I have a really odd way to explain why Dan Brown causes me distress.

If you're hungry, you want to eat something. You have two choices: some chewing gum/a pack of crisps, or a tasty, balanced meal. You choose the meal, you're satisfied at the end, it's all good. You choose the chewing gum or crisps, you munch away rapidly and before you know it, the artificial taste is gone and you're even emptier than before, left with either an empty crisp packet or a wad of rubbery crap in your mouth and a nasty aftertaste either way. Oh, and you're probably feeling somewhat upset that your choice failed to stop the hunger.

Dan Brown = the shit option.