I gave in, I finally read it. I realize I am a book snob and I’ve proudly read neither a Harry Potter, nor a Twilight book, but the FASTEST selling paperback of all time? 90 million copies? Translated into 52 languages? Possibly a bigger seller than the BIBLE?
THIS I had to see!!!!
Fifty Shades of HUH?
If there was any sort of a “book” contained within the pages of Fifty Shades of Grey, I certainly missed it. It wasn’t a “novel”, it was book-bound blogging~ all emails and what appeared to be the clumsy journal entries of a naive eighth grader, interspersed with a few rudimentary and childish, not even too terribly raunchy sex scenes! This is about more than shamefully poor prose, I did not even notice any sort of a real plot! NOTHING! I’d have had about the same experience had the pages been blank.
As a writer myself, I usually bite my tongue in regards to this sort of thing~ it isn’t my place to rip another “writer” apart, particularly one who is billions upon billions of times more successful than I. But since I am abso-freaking-lutely sure that Miss E. L. James (whoever that is) doesn’t give a good, hot damn what Miss Brianne Sloan (whoever that is) thinks of her, I’m just going to say it:
ARE YOU KIDDING ME? IS THIS A JOKE?
WE LIVE IN *THIS* WORLD?
* * *
It was bad. Just SO bad, on every single possible level! I’ve seen deeper episodes of The Simpsons! Shoddy prose, elementary storylines and a trashy, one dimensional “heroine” with zero personality and ZERO self respect. And she’s losing her marbles over a basically boring character with stalker like, borderline sociopathic tendancies, that obviously were not even intended? Because he happens to be good looking? A man who “wants” her and “wants” her and never says WHY? He sees nothing in her, which is a relief because neither did I.
So she wants to visit ENGLAND . . . WHY?
“It’s the home of Shakespeare, Austen, the Bronte Sisters, Thomas Hardy. I’d like to see the places that inspired those people to write such wonderful books.”
And the dealer passes! The bitter irony of THAT line being within *these* pages is a heartless affront to all writers, anywhere and everywhere!
Now my subconscious may want to bitch slap the inner goddess of E.L. James, but it isn’t really her fault. I doubt she originally intended to even publish the insipid tripe, let alone top bestseller lists everywhere! Come on. Snowqueen’s Icedragon wrote FanFiction, she wasn’t exactly trying to be Jane Austen . . . yet somehow she’s become one of TIME Magazine’s 100 Most Influential People In the World? You almost have to applaud the bitch!
Not everyone can write, I understand this~ I always say God bless their hearts for trying! I’ve seen it a thousand times, people with minimal or non existent talent, churning out page after page in vain, writing and writing and getting nowhere? More for release from their suburban 9 to 5 lifestyles than anything? Craving adventure and excitement? Longing to be Anais Nin?
Oh, my! We’ve all been there.
Still you take E.L. James, a typical middle aged woman without even a vague shadow of any real literary talent, plus precious little knowledge of what the world of BDSM is actually like! She types up four hundred pages, full of a naive, clumsy narrative, asinine phrases which she repeats interminably and what appear to be copy and paste
My subconscious may be shaking her head and narrowing her eyes skeptically, but my inner goddess is shaking cheerleader pompoms and jumping up and down for this woman! Doing back flips worthy of a Russian Olympic gymnast!
Oh, E.L. James! You go, girl!
Laters, baby!!! <3