I was told in elementary school that I only could read at half the speed for success in college. Oh well, one benefit of slow reading is you get to live with the characters a longer period of time. I read in a vain attempt to better understand people. At my other homes, I'm known as a spouse, pop, guy in the choir, physical chemist, computer/web dilettante and child-care provider. In theory, I'm a published author, if you consider stuff like Quenching Cross Sections for Electronic Energy Transfer Reactions Between Metastable Argon Atoms and Noble Gases and Small Molecules to count as publications. I've strewn dozens of such fascinating things to the winds.
I thought this might be an interesting book. After all, a historical novel set in China during the 1920s and 1930s could be rather interesting. The writing style was so horrible that I gave up after about 5 pages. It was written in present tense, which is a valid approach, but this was so stilted as to seem false.