I can't read anymore of Anna Karenina. I can't. I tried, and made it 100 pages, but it's so slow, and the day-to-day activities of these pampered rich people are so mundane, so boring, that I keep hoping some Communist revolutionaries will come along and send them to Siberia. I actually like the inner lives of these characters, but I hate their mundane activities, and I wish the story would move. I toughed it out for 120 pages and that was enough.
Sorry, Tolstoy. Maybe I'll try War and Peace one of these decades.
My next book is Academaze by friend-of-the-blog Sydney Phlox, aka Xykademiqz.