I've hit some resistance in my Iris Murdoch novel. I didn't realize, going into it, that it was going to be about an unhappily married older man falling in love with a bewitching little artist gal...I find that to be such a sad topic...I'm not sure that pure admiration for her prose is enough to get me over that lump of "ugh, no."

Reading a novel--not a thriller or mystery which has a definite agenda to entertain--is an act of opening your heart to someone else, without judgment. With this topic, it's hard to stay open and not irritated.