I just subjected myself to reading one in particular. It that was written by a favorite film star of mine; an actress who is obviously clever, very skilled at her craft, still alluring, and who cannot write a rhyming couplet that recognizes any consistent rules of either grammar or scansion. It was so bad that my firstborn climbed out of bed and pulled out the next book on the queue; I tried to tough it out, but gave up three pages later when two sentences more or less collided in a fireball. Pretty, it wasn’t.
Now all I need to do is figure out a suitable subject. Preferably something not political; those never end well. More importantly, they usually don’t sell well, either.