Occasionally I read young adult literature, novels written for young people. The reading is easy, and I can get through a book quickly.
Last night I read one that was unsatisfying. The main character was in a depressed state, unhappy living conditions, dead end job, broken relationship. Then! she inherits her grandmother's house, her like-new vintage automobile, and a pile of money; she's handed a ready-made dream job writing her grandmother's advice column; and she has several good-looking single men eager to know her better. Oh, and she's beautiful to boot.
Why is this unsatisfying? Because she doesn't do anything. She doesn't work for these things. She had long ago given up any dreams she once had.
And I had to look at myself, procrastinating, often wishing for pie in the sky—that is, that my current book would write itself, that my other books would sell themselves. So, I did benefit from reading this unsatisfying book because it made me wake up, reaffirm my goals and get busy making them happen.