I read a novel called The Gin and Chowder Club last year. I picked it up initially because I saw it was set in Cape Cod, and I have a fascination with the East Coast. The book’s plot was mildly disturbing. I was uncomfortable because of the relationship between a young boy and an older woman who was in a relationship with another man. However, part of the reason I hated it was the fact that I really enjoyed reading the book because of the plot. The story also seemed very forced. The language was construed in such a way that made the dramatic elements of the book seem overdone, but I can’t say that I wasn’t intrigued by what was going to happen next. I was caught between my enjoyment of the book for its entertainment value and my shame in enjoying the book because of its poor execution in plot and language.