Just so we’re all on the same page, I think it’s important to say right from the get-go that I believe in a strong calibre gradient when it comes to literature. As such, I don’t really consider something that’s featured as a must-read in TigerBeat to be in the same category as the likes of Dumas, Tolkein, or the Brontë sisters. And while I know I’m no Jane Austen, I do feel safe in saying that M.L. Stedman’s The Light Between Oceans is tied with Twilight as the worst book I’ve ever read. Which is surprising because over 2,000 Amazon customers appear to be in genuine awe of its existence (i.e.,  reviewers describe it as “complex”, “extraordinary and heart-rending”, and “irresistible… seductive…[with] a high concept plot that keeps you riveted from the first page”). Seriously, I’m convinced they were reading a different book. Because the only emotions I entertained throughout the entire novel were boredom and boredom. And maybe also boredom.

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