Books I couldn't finish.

The Golden Calf, Ilya Ilf & Evgeny Petrov: Billed as "the funniest novel of the Soviet era"! Which it very well may be, but I'm reminded of a saying I never heard until I left my hometown: "like the tallest building in Wichita."

In Hovering Flight, Joyce Hinnefeld: Yup, creeped out by birds.

The Passage, Justin Cronin: Oh man, I really really tried with this one. It's the book of the summer, apparently, and has indie booksellers all het up about it; my co-worker Stephanie read and liked it; it's a post-apocalyptic vampire book, which should be right up my alley, right? And yet. I just couldn't get past the writing, which seems overwrought and flat at the same time. I kept thinking of Michael Crichton--and while I enjoy a good potboiler, this book is 750+ pages. To keep on keepin' on that long, a book has got to be awesome. So no. This one defeated me.