Just finished what has to be one of the most frustrating, juvenile, annoying reads: "Finding Faith" by Andrew Barriger. From its gushing praise by a Ronald L. Donaghe of "Foreword Magazine"(?) to its pointless epilogue and so-unnecessary afterward (Really? "Faith might be the most mysterious force of all..."?) this is an amateurish, poorly over-written love story about two gay men living in an idyllic small town, in which the author feels the need to spell everything out and embarks on sappy sentiments and pointless asides.
For instance, Taylor is given a shopping list by his roommate, and Barringer gives us the entire shopping list: a paragraph worth of waste.
Or this piece if ultimate stupidity:
"Taylor took the slip and looked at at. In the man's handwriting was a phone number and the name, "Jen." Taylor was confused for a moment, until he realized it was a misspelling of "Gen." "
Really? I mean really? Taylor is a lawyer and doesn't realize Jen is another way of spelling Gen?
This is the type of book in which a character does something, then tells another character what they have done and then the second character repeats it back. For no plot reason at all, someone asks if they have A/C and the following dialogue occurs:
"I turned it off with the door open," Gen admitted.
"I'll get it," Tom said.
"I've got it," Taylor said, beating him off the couch.
Really? A tree died to for this?
Oh- and Faith? It's supposed to be personified by a pushy, female real estate agent who has no boundaries, falls in lust with Taylor and calls him a fairy once she discovers he's gay. And in reading the afterward, I got the impression the author was confusing faith with fate.
Put this book in the so bad its bad section, which is too bad because it could have been a good, light romantic escape of a book, instead it's page after page of needless droning. Stay away at all costs.