Twilight. Utter garbage.
I made myself read the first book because I told myself I couldn't just base my hatred of it on the few snippets I'd seen other places. I couldn't make myself read the rest of the series. There's this blog called "Mark Reads Twilight"--his reactions are pretty much what I think about it.
It's not romantic when someone is watching you sleep and you don't know it. Or breaking and entering.
Cry, the Beloved Country. I might still be bitter because if I'd had my way, my AP Lit class would have read Wuthering Heights instead.
I HATE when people use the -- mark instead of quotation marks when people are talking. Hate, hate, hate. It is why I refuse to read Joyce.
My Antonia. For some reason, I also carry atavistic hatred toward this book.
The Scarlet Letter. And this one. I hate this one. I had to do way too much stuff about all the symbolism in it. Blah blah blah, yeah, whatever.
Pride and Prejudice. I've tried like 3 separate times to read this. It bores me to tears before the end of the first chapter.
Argh, I know there's more. More contemporary stuff. But apparently I've blocked it out of my memory.
I DID like My Sister's Keeper...until the end. Then it was a big "what the?!" Did not fit at all.