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Sunday, Jan. 21, 2007 - 5:56 p.m.

Okay, peeps, I have read 2 books in the last week, and I feel compelled to comment on them now, if only to distract myself from the fact that I got my outdate already from the basic cable urban reality show I just started working on, and it's an entire month early, which is a boatload of money I was really stoked to have and that would have enabled me to save money after I paid off my debts, and which I will no longer be able to save, on accounta needing all of the 2 months I will actually have a job to dig out from under. But instead of chatting about that, let's talk books. Chick lit, to be precise. The more male of you go ahead and check out now, coz you'll be bored. If I think of anything at all relevant to your gender, I'll bump it up here, rather than posting it after, so go. Shoo. Scat. We are done with anything you will find at all remotely interesting. (not that any of this paragraph was interesting, but whatever. i have a very bad headache for the last 4 days now, so i have nothing really cool to say; sorry.)

So, the first book I read this week was "A Girl's Guide to Witchcraft," by Mindy Klasky, and which was, for the most part, cute. I will probably read any witchy sequels Ms. Klasky ponies up. That being said, there were some things that were less than optimal about the book, the first being it could have *easily* been 100 pages shorter with no one being even a tad the wiser, and if I'd been her editor, it would have been. It was also pretty predictable, in that I knew where her love life was going as soon as it got started, and any dunderhead who doesn't have more sense than the heroine did really shouldn't be allowed out. Ever. There wasn't enough witchiness in a book with that title, either. I expected a lot more about witchcraft and trying to keep her secret while solving all the problems learning witchcraft would invariably cause, but it was really little more than a frothy romance with a little bit of "witchcraft" thrown in every once in a while, and frankly, that bored me. Ms. Klasky really needs to grasp the concept that if the main premise you're using to grab an audience is that your 20-something character just accidentally discovered she's a witch, you should actually DEAL WITH THE WITCHCRAFT ASPECTS OF THE STORY. A lot. So it was really a fairly disappointing read, and I skipped chunks of it, which remembering actually makes me decide that no, I probably WON'T read any further sequels. Klasky really missed the boat, imo.

The other book was The Suck. Completely. It was titled "How Nancy Drew Saved My Life," by Lauren Baratz-Logsted, and it was a Hoover of Epic Proportions. I do NOT read romance. I do NOT read romance because it's boring. It's predictable. It's trite. It's formulaic. And it's embarrassing. It's embarrassing to be seen with, it's embarrassing to read, and I dislike intensely heaving bosoms, fingers plunged into love canals, and gasping with delight at the size of his man shaft. Seriously, gross. There are those of you I know do enjoy those things, and you are entitled to your likes as you have them, but with very little exception, I really, really, really do NOT like romances.

I especially do not like romances masquerading as chick lit.

I would be remiss if I did not warn the more chicklitian of my readers that this book is not only a romance, it is even more pathetically predictable, formulaic, trite, poorly written, and wildly improbable than the most predictable, formulaic, trite, poorly written and wildly improbable Harlequin romance ever. In fact, most Harlequins are actually much, much better than this book. For one thing, they are shorter. For another, they tend to make sense, even if they are improbable. And while they are wildly formulaic, they at least manage not to be ridiculously trite. Trite, yes; ridiculously trite, not usually. This book is nothing but trite. It's also chock full of plot devices which exist solely to demonstrate to the reader that yes, the heroine IS in love with her employer and dumb as a box of rocks, just in case you haven't been smart enough to figure it out yet from all the million and one other indicators you have been given that she is in love with her employer and dumb as a box of rocks. The stupidity aspect is another dislike, because frankly, I dislike stupid people in general and don't want to have to suffer through 300 pages of a main character who is too unbelievably stupid to live. And if you have to keep telling me your heroine is plucky despite her stupidity, then you have done a poor job of demonstrating said pluckiness. I wish I could say you've also done a poor job of demonstrating said stupidity, but unfortunately, that was made abundantly clear. No girl in the history of the world is actually so incredibly stupid, clumsy, and incapable as the "plucky" heroine of this book. Nor was she at all plucky, unless plucky has taken on some entirely new, heretofore unheard of meaning. Every major event in the book is also so wildly implausible and without reason or logic as to make fairytales look believable and reasonable. I was ready to quit reading this book by the end of chapter 5. Out of sheer boredom, I continued reading to the end - skipping a lot and skimming as I did - and I really, really wish I had chosen to spend that time watching paint dry instead. I am thankful now that they did not have any more of Ms. Baratz-Logsted's books on the shelf at Borders while I was there, because I'd had in mind to buy another, and if I had, I'd be out another $14 for nothing, because there's no way in HELL you could ever pay me to read another of these. If anyone wants to read this abominable book just to see if it could at all possibly be as bad as I've said, lemme know, and I'll mail it to you. But you have to either mail it back or to someone else who wants to see if they also think it's abominable, so it can make the rounds with you, my kindred readers, without anyone having to pay for it. (That Girl and Reader, I'm lookin' at you. You too, Suburban Isle, if you still read here. And if anyone actually likes it, they can have it back to keep when it's done making the rounds; I understand someone who reads romances might like it.)

Okay, gotta go, now. My head is really killing me.

Peace out,
Katie

copyright 2002 - 2005 Katie Doyle; all rights reserved
Don't even think it, punk.






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Yesterday's News - Next Stop

In which Katie shares sad news - Wednesday, Apr. 01, 2015
In which Katie returns after a very long absence - Monday, Jun. 25, 2012
In which Katie pokes her head in and brushes some of the cobwebs away - Thursday, May. 06, 2010
In which Katie asks you to write your congressman again. - Monday, Jun. 02, 2008
In which Katie asks you to please click the link and send the message to protect the rights of artists - Wednesday, May. 21, 2008

 

 

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