The never-ending novel

This weekend I read 'A Long Way Down' by Nick Hornby. This book is one of the reasons that I am a library addict; I'm glad I read it, but really glad I didn't buy it. I would say the ending takes about 50 or more pages. It just goes on and on and on. Geesh! It strikes me as a publisher contract sort of book - i.e. he had to make it X number of pages. I guess I'm not surprised. Nick Hornby isn't exactly Nobel Prize winning, but even if this book gets made into a movie like most of his others, I don't even think it will be good at the box office. The characters are interesting and the story has merit, I didn't find myself wanting to skip/skim pages, but it sort of felt like a waste of time. And I do love a pulp/trashy novel as much as the next guy, so I think this is the harshest review I've posted this year. If you find this book on the floor of an airport, pick it up. If you are thinking of putting down cash for a paperback, there are zillions of better ways to make yourself happy for $15.