Stretch @ the Guardian blog on a familiar ‘problem’:
Whenever I discover a new author, it always starts so well. An enticing cover image, a seductive first line, some flirtatious opening pages. Before I know where I am, he’s found his way into my bed and is keeping me awake late into the night. But as with any relationship, it isn’t long before questions of commitment crop up. As someone with a frankly promiscuous attitude towards writers (I’ll try anyone once), I always find myself asking the same question: am I really expected to read everything they’ve written? [...]
One fundamental problem remains – and not just laziness (although to be honest, that’s part of it). The truth is that bad novels sometimes happen to good novelists. Absolute consistency is the hallmark of very few writers, particularly the more prolific ones. Must we, as readers, suffer bad prose for the sake of loyalty?