I wanted to like Jeremy Scott Blaustein’s “The Home For Wayward Ladies” so much that it angers me that I am so disappointed by it. The first part of the book set up the three characters so well – three men in New York City of today, living and struggling as artists on Broadway – actors, choreographers, directors. We got to see their trials and tribulations, how they made themselves fit in the city – how they laughed, how they played, how they loved. But then Blaustein took them away from the city to a theater in the Poconos and that’s when it fell flat for me. Blausten has a way of overselling the story that after a while I stopped buying what he was selling. I got so bored by the last third that I was rushing through the book just so I would finish it. I just stopped caring about the characters, and that’s too bad for me since I kind of digged them in the beginning. And I really didn’t like that they referred to themselves as ladies. Oh well, call me old fashioned.