Dan Brown - the salt that I pour on my open wounds

I don't know why I read and listen to Dan Brown books. I think part of it is the fomulaic nature of the books (starts with a death written in an odd and mysterious fashion, middle is a protagonist caught outside of his or her element but is incredibly brilliant in their new awkward role, and ends with a grand conspiracy being exposed) and the other part is how utterly ridiculous his props are. I say "props" because that's what they are - it's usually some object or device in the book that is designed to make the reader feel like the story is told by a technothriller author (as if Dan Brown were Tom Clancy) but end up fanciful and childish. He starts off his stories with "these things are true" to make you assume that the fake stuff is too… but come on! He always dives into what sounds like a technical description of what a theory is or how something works and then manages to get it slightly (or sometimes totally) wrong. It's like reading an article written by some guy who only read the Cliff's Notes to Popular Science who is trying to pass it off as having decent source material.

Why do I keep reading his books? Probably for the same reason why people pick at scabs and squeeze pimples… I just can't help it (and there's part of me that takes enjoyment out of being annoyed by some part of his stories).