Why am I reading this shat?

In order to become a more well-rounded individual, I have decided to take a break from Catch-22 and Dr. Zhivago and start reading some more "mainstream" titles. This weekend, I shall sink my teeth into the fourth Harry Potter book (which I'm quite looking forward to) and, er, um, uh...A Nicholas Sparks novel.

I read one of his novels about a year ago and shortly afterwards experienced internal bleeding. My eyes also filled up with blood and I started coughing up a black, tar-like substance. Okay, it wasn't all that bad, but it was pretty sappy and simple. I'm reading "The Rescue" and already on page 52, I can totally foresee the ending. Perhaps it won't be all that bad, but I'm not holding my breath. The author's picture on the dust cover also threw me--The writing reminded me of an Andy Griffith-esque old man, not a guy looking like an old preppy kid.

This reading will not bode well on my writing plans. If I start writing the literary equivalent of Celine Dion schmaltz, someone please put me out of my misery.