I often wonder if things are the most disappointing when your expectations are set really high (I suspect this makes total sense!). I had just finished reading Alyssa York's Fauna and was amazed at her talent as a writer. I wanted to read more! I picked up Effigy and expected to be dazzled. Oddly, it was about Mormon taxidermists, but in the hands of a talented author, this could work. Right? Wrong! This book plodded along with relentless details about the stuffing of animals, coupled with the dramas of multiple wives. I finished it as I kept waiting for the point where it would turn and be fantastic. Didn't happen and I now live in fear of future Alyssa York novels. Perhaps I just need to pay closer attention to the topic next time.
As an aside, I wonder if this is why I'm reluctant to start my second Sarah Water's book Fingersmith (as mentioned yesterday). Perhaps I have found a second hypothesis.
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