A relative had recommended a series, and after watching the first episode I let him know I didn’t think I’d watch the rest.
He was aghast. “It’s the best series I ever saw,” said my dear family member. “It got me thinking about so many questions and had so many twists and turns.”
Yes, that’s the plot. A whole town full of characters. Mysterious occurrences, once begun, continue to baffle as they go on and on. Good premise.
The problem was that I found every single person in the town unlikable. Not in an interesting sort of way what’s-with-him/her unlikable, but in a dull nothing-to-like-here mode.
My relative lamented that his wife also dismisses stories (be they books or movies) when she doesn’t like the main character. “I just don’t get it,” he added.
Here’s the best explanation I can give on this matter. Spending the most precious thing I have, time, in a place I don’t like or with people I don’t like, is something I won’t do unless compelled to by law.
We all occasionally have to. It might be family, or a job. But we’d be wise not to do so for longer than necessary.
Reading a book or watching a movie is very much like hanging out in their time, place, and with their characters. What happens there can be interesting. But without liking someone in that world, I’m out of there, thank you.
And so I left that series, which incidentally is named The Leftovers. I may give it another try someday. Who knows, never say never. But the feeling that I choose who to hang out with when I begin a story is forever. Same for the ones I write.