I hate it when I read something that everyone else is raving about and I don’t like it. For a variety of reasons, this book Mister Pip by Lloyd Jones has not grabbed me, certainly in the same way that it’s grabbed other people. Several other booksellers at BEA raved about it and then today I read this piece on the Globe’s Off the Shelf column. I think it’s a problem with me than with the book. The writing is fine, lovely even. We’re just not meant to be. It seemed too sentimental for my taste. I find it more difficult often in describing why I didn’t enjoy a book than when I do, especially when there’s nothing overtly wrong with it. It’s me, not you, Mister Pip. We’re just not going to work out I’m afraid. Let’s end it now before we hurt each other even more.