A few years ago, my dad got me this book he found at an ukay-ukay somewhere. A science fiction novel about immortal people born at different points in history - Poul Anderson’s "The Boat of a Million Years." I persevered through three or four thousand years of historical fiction that had little value besides massive infodumps and generic character development, before reaching the present/future dates, and finally I decided that I was not going to derive any enjoyment from this, and closed the book. It was the first and only time that I ever did that.