Jenna. Does. The. Best. Tags.
(Trigger warning: dating disasters)
My love life, for once, is going well.
I can’t say the same about my reading life.
This started out as a jokey blog post that turned really serious. (I wrote it during the December Sads.)
To avoid the dark, woe-is-me implications of something I’d INTENDED to be funny, I turned that post into a book tag.
1. Answer the questions.
2. Link back here.
3. Tag friends, family, and fellow bloggers.
4. Try not to cry.
5. Cry a lot. Continue reading “The Book Break-up Tag”
You all knew it was coming. Continue reading “Fruits Basket Book Tag”
Good ol’ genre fiction. The stories I love tend to be more plot- than character-oriented, promising a fun ride. My favorite genres include chick lit, mystery, romance, and adventure.
Meet the biggest offender for each of the above genres.
Kale, My Ex, and Other Things to Toss in a Blender by Lisa Greenwald
Most Confusing Moral of 2017
In my defense, I was going through a breakup when I bought this book.
I LOVE breakup lit. And revenge stories. And, again, I was in a bad place.
I bought this book during the summer, the perfect season for fun, fluffy literature. Not only did I find the title hilarious, I loved the idea of two girls creating their own smoothie business as part of an elaborate scheme to destroy an ex.
I was so ready.
I ended up finishing this, partly fueled by rage. The writing offended me. Completing this book become a test of will: could I finish a novel this awful?
Listen, if you’re going to sell me a fresh plot, you better deliver. Don’t promise me a smoothie stand if all you’ll give me is gross teenage romance and friend fights. I don’t care about these characters. YOU don’t care about these characters. Why develop them at all?
Both protagonists find love in this book, which…okay, one of them just went through a break-up, but you know what? Go for it.
Both romances were disgusting. The author amped up the awkwardness of teenage boys by a thousand. Normally cringeworthy lines became unbearable. “Quirky” behaviors multiplied like rabbits. One of the guys used flashcards as his “in.”
AND NO ONE CALLED THEM ON IT. Neither protagonist said, “Huh, that was kind of gross,” or “Is he hitting on me using trivia?”
Instead, both girls found the weird pick-up lines, moves, and excuses “kind of sexy.”
I now understand asexuality.
The VERY worst part of this book (and this is a spoiler): the girls blow all their hard-earned smoothie money on a helicopter ride to school. Now everyone will know who they are!
WAS THAT THE MESSAGE THIS WHOLE TIME?
WAS THAT WHAT WE WERE SUPPOSED TO LEARN???
All that time getting revenge on the ex, hooking up with gross boys, and rewriting your friendship dynamic…the real goal was showing up the jerks at your high school!?!?
I can’t. I can’t anymore. I’m done.
Dancing in Red Shoes Will Kill You by Dorian Cirrone
Best False Advertising of 2005
Looking at this book as an adult, I can see where I went wrong.
I love a good mystery; give me plot twists and whodunnits and thrills. Tipped off by the symbolic pumpkins, I realize now the author never intended the mystery to be the main focus.
I missed that detail as a 14-year-old.
After one or two mentions, the promised ballerinacide gave way to:
- the [teenaged] protagonist considering breast reduction surgery to further her ballet career
- the protagonist’s sister fighting for the right to draw realistic penises
- a censorship march with a chant that rhymed “rude” with “drop your pants, dude.”
- (my favorite plot point and a huge spoiler) the love interest’s expulsion for writing the threatening note (“It was a metaphor! I was quoting a poem!”)
As a former completionist, I read the whole thing (it was a dark time.)
I remember best the disappointment. In my view, Dorian Cirrone LIED to me: if you wanted to write about censorship and body image, why didn’t you just tell me??
Can we mark this as the official moment where I lost my innocence? That seems healthy. Let’s do it.
The Weight of Feathers by Anna-Marie McLemore
2015 World Record Holder for Fastest Romance
I’ve noticed book reviews use the word “lyrical” when they have nothing nice to say about the story.
Everything I read about this book continued in that vein: the prose was “lush,” the love story “magical,” the world “fantastic,” all very impressive descriptions for a debut novel. From all appearances, this looked to be a whimsical romantic journey.
None of the reviews mentioned how harsh this book is.
I will put up with a lot if like a story enough, but I draw the line at abuse.
This book isn’t very long, only about 300 pages, and yet unnecessary acts of violence comprise most of the plot: the chemical rain that burns the protagonists; the physical deformity Cluck received from a family member; Cluck’s older brother stabbing his sibling’s hands with a needle.
The promised romance covered 40 pages. In those pages, the leads went from enemies to lovers to back to enemies. The author packed too much relationship into too few pages.
After the aforementioned needle stabbing, I couldn’t continue.
I’m torn – McLemore also wrote a trans romance that sounds great, but after this? I expect 200 pages of physical violence capped by a single kiss between the leads.
Not worth it.
The Girl From Everywhere by Heidi Heilig
Winner of the Medal for Worst Execution
Squandering solid ideas infuriates me.
Sometimes I feel like coming up with ideas is the hardest part of writing. Even if something excites me, I wonder, “Is it strong enough to fuel an entire story?” If it’s an idea with a lot of required research or moving parts, I wonder, “Am I motivated to complete this?”
I’d like to be a great little cheerleader who supports other writers and their attempts to create, no matter the quality.
Instead, I’m the slackjawed critic made sick by wasted potential.
If someone publishes a unique idea – an unusual setting, a specific historical retelling, an unlikely perspective, a speculative bent – that idea is now timestamped with their name on it. Others can be inspired by this idea or use similar elements to make their own stories, but they can’t use that idea without someone crying foul. The original, amazing idea belongs to whichever author thought of it first.
How does this relate to my rant?
Before I answer, I have a letter to write:
Dear Heidi Heilig,
WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?
Let’s take an inventory:
- Diverse pirate crew: YES. Have I mentioned pirates at all – AT ALL – this entire rant? No? Well, I love ’em. I only read historical fiction if it has pirates.
- Promised love story: I’m here for it. I LOVE love stories. Drinks all around!
- Time travel: This?? This is GENIUS. And not just time travel – the pirates can travel to any time period and location, real or imagined, so long as they have an accurate map. That’s AMAZING. What a clever twist.
- Natural father-daughter conflict: I must be getting better, because a few years ago, I couldn’t handle father-daughter conflict of any kind. This book took an interesting tack, too, with the fight involving protagonist Nix’s fate. In short: the father wanted to return to the place and time where he met his babymama so he could rewrite their tragic relationship. Doing so, however, would write Nix out of existence.
Look at all these DELICIOUS ingredients. SURELY all these separate parts would yield a wonderful recipe. Just let that tension simmer…
No? You’re not even going to turn on the heat? I mean…okay, Heidi, it’s your story.
The pirates…the pirates aren’t even gonna pirate anything? Just talk about it? Geez, hope the father-daughter conflict is better than this…
WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S NO CONFLICT? Why is the protagonist RESIGNED to her fate? WHY IS SHE HELPING HIM?
At least we’ve got that love interest kicking around. Surely… Oh, he doesn’t care about her. RAD. Wait, Heidi, are you trying to push a race angle with him? Stick to sucking the tension out of your story.
Okay, we’re switching locations!! It’s time for some action!
…OR the protagonist can go shopping. That’s cool, too.
Ew, who’s that freckled kid? WHO’S THAT FRECKLED KID? HEIDI! ARE YOU THROWING A ROMANTIC FALSE LEAD AT ME RIGHT NOW? HEIDI! ANSWER ME! I’M NOT STUPID, HEIDI. DON’T TRY TO DISTRACT FROM YOUR THIN PLOT! HEIDI! GET BACK HERE!
I gave up after 80 pages. Once Freckle McPonytail showed up, I knew Heidi didn’t have anything interesting planned. With the plot at a dead halt and the characterization barely present, I couldn’t see anything promising on the horizon.
So I abandoned this book with all my hopes and dreams.
I hear you wrote a sequel, Heidi. I hear you duologied this garbage.
I wish I could go back in time to the moment I bought this book as a depressed, unemployed recent graduate. I would MOVE BACK TO BREMERTON if it meant I could ERASE THIS BOOK FROM MY MEMORY.
You betrayed me and I don’t care anymore.
This list did not turn out how I planned.
I started writing about my all-time favorite books – Princess Diaries, Lunar Chronicles, all that junk – when I noticed a pattern.
I have a habit of acquiring books, thanks to unwise spending habits, a Seattle library card, and literary friends. I fill my pile with finds that others have recommended or that have interesting covers or that cost $8 at Target (a price that hits my stingy sweet spot. $9.99? What am I, made of money? $8? That means I can buy 4!) The floor of my studio is covered with brand new and gently used books I should be reading right now.
…I reread the same 11 books instead.
I think about these books constantly. I press them on good friends, whispering, “This book ruined my life.” I read them to stave off anxiety attacks and cure bad moods.
These aren’t long-time favorites that I’ve collected throughout my life, but more recent volumes that I’ve read over the last two years. These are the stories I need right now, the ones that reassure me I’m on the right track. Continue reading “Lauren’s Go-To Reads: New Favorites Editions”
There are some memories attached to today’s post.
While not the biggest fan, for a while I was pretty into “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” My friend Erica and I would buy Haagen-Dazs, huddle in her dorm, and blitz through entire seasons of “Buffy” on days when we were tired of school.
I tend to like side characters more than the protagonist, which is especially true of “Buffy” and “How I Met Your Mother.” Seriously, Ted. No one cares about your problems.
Even though Buffy got on my nerves, I enjoyed watching Xander, Willow, and Giles and tried to imagine a show where they had wacky adventures while Buffy sat at home being terrible and making bad choices. I had reservations when Seth Green joined the “Buffy” cast. I hadn’t seen him pull off “monosyllabic musician.” I was 19! I didn’t know better!
Oz quickly became my favorite part of the show. When Oz and Willow fell in love, I couldn’t handle it. When people talk relationship goals, they always mention Chandler and Monica or Lilly and Marshall. For me, it was Oz and Willow.
That is, until they broke up.
“Broke up” doesn’t quite cover it. Oz cheated on Willow with a rogue werewolf, got caught by Willow, murdered said werewolf when she tried to kill Willow, then decided to skip town.
I tried–and failed–to explain the above to my then-boyfriend without crying. Three years later, I’m still having a hard time. Oz was such a great boyfriend. He and Willow were great together. It hurt to watch him screw up his relationship and know it couldn’t be fixed.
“Oz, don’t you love me?”
“My whole life I’ve never loved anything else.”
Need cheering up?
Yikes. How to follow that up? Quick, internet, find me something funny!