I HATE DICKENS WITH THE PASSION OF A THOUSAND BURNING SUNS. The original rift occurred in high school, when I read A Tale of Two Cities. I fell in love with Sydney Carton and was confident that I could get through the silliness of Lucy frickin' Manette UNTIL THEY RUINED THE END WITH A SAPPY AND SENTIMENTAL DEATH. WTF.

Since then, I've had to read 3-5 novels for school and hated every single one.

Melville might be redeemable because he's not a sentimental fucker, but all I've read so far has been Billy Budd (HATED IT) and Bartleby the Scrivener, which I don't think are his epic works.

There are other writers who cause me to bristle, but I'll generate a list when I'm not at work. For now, let me start it off with STEPHANIE MYERS.