That's happening now with one of the five books I'm currently reading. I read Robert Jordan's opening tome for The Wheel of Time, The Eye of the World (review here), and finished with a slightly favorable impression. Nothing amazing and terribly exciting, but the series is one of the essential fantasy series, so I thought I'd give it a chance. Plus I'd already bought about five books in the series. Book Two, The Great Hunt, is grieving me as I press on. I find myself not caring really at all about any of the characters, only mildly interested in what's going on and what their fates are. I'm currently on page 481 of 705, but I just don't know if I'll be able to finish.
But still I feel bad about not finishing a book. Part of me understands that there are so many other unread things out there waiting for me that I shouldn't spend time with something I'm not enjoying. I completely agree and understand this part of me. But then I also feel like I'm giving up, and that doesn't jibe well with me. In fact, the last book I put down was almost a year ago, Dan Simmons' The Terror (review here), and I went through the same struggle with it.
Who knows what the ultimate fate of this series is? I really wanted to get to the Brandon Sanderson take over, but I really don't see that happening now. I also would like to have read the whole series just to experience it, but again, I just don't see that happening. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel weaves, eh?
(On a side note, Peter Brett's The Warded Man just may be my favorite thing I've read this year. I'm about halfway through this, too, so look for a review in another week or so, as time wills it.)
