Slow Suicide

I'm writing an essay at the moment about Ernst Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises. It wasn't bad, only terrifically boring! I supposse you know books mean a lot to me, I read between 4-6 books / week. But this one, I could barely stand it. I became tired of Jake Barnes (the narrator) and his friens daily visits at different bars to get drunk. And now, I'm apparently suppossed to write this huge and important essay about it. I'm not even aware if I can do it, a feeling of panic is heading towards me.

Some last words for you folks, DO NOT READ THAT BOOK!