This entry is a bit of a jumble, I’m afraid, and teeters ever closer to non-professional, but I stand by what’s here anyway.
I got too caught up in end-of-semester projects and more relationship drama than you can shake a stick at to review the two books I’ve read since I read Water for Elephants, which were Firefly Cloak by Sheri Reynolds, and Girls in White Dresses by Jennifer Close. I really regret this, and I hope to remedy this as soon as possible, because I actually quite enjoyed the former and found myself surprisingly enamored of the latter, and I feel that the reactions they elicited deserve to be documented here.
In the meantime, I will say that I officially cannot tolerate any part of Nora Roberts – at least not if Vision In White is an appropriate example of her work. I got about halfway through it with my teeth clenched the entire time due to the narrator’s extremely aggravating lisp and complete lack of imagination, not to mention the fact that the plot was so far beyond tedious I’m not even sure what to call it. I was as turned off to the entire book as the stereotypical male is to stereotypical female interests. The characters were weak in every sense; they were poorly developed, and those poorly developed individuals were predominantly passive, shallow, translucent, and effeminate. In fact, the only element that came across strongly was the extreme amounts of estrogen pervading every pore of every character, male or female, every event, and every scene. I know, what could I have ever really expected otherwise? I think what I hate the most about books like this is that there are so many people around who gobble up the formulaic, archtypical plotlines with pretty little silver spoons and call it literature. To me, it’s a far greater waste of paper and is more destructive than these lovely book carving art projects that seem to be gaining popularity as of late.
Hm. Let’s check in with Johnny Depp and see if he has any wisdom for us today. Oh, snap! Looks like he does!
“If you love two people at the same time, choose the second one, because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn’t have fallen for the second.” – Johnny Depp
Also, while we’re on the subject, I hate the fact that so many of the songs on light rock radio right now remind me of a certain someone I’d like to forget (at least for the time being) and I can’t wait until they’re no longer popular and on constant rotation. However, given how things panned out, I can also think of no greater insult than to always associate this person with the unimaginative and entirely base appeal of overproduced pop and watered down soul.
Ultimately, however, I am probably most upset by the fact that I listen to so. much. light rock. It’s not my fault I work in an otherwise totally wonderful office! Sometimes I think about how many Kelly Clarkson songs I’ve heard in my lifetime and I have to stop myself from tallying up how much time I’ve wasted assaulting my poor ears to low-key “I swear I’m not a lesbian” girl-power up-tempo ballads. Ugh.
Also, images. So many inspirational images!
(More maps of the human heart found here.)
Take What You Need…and give what you can back.