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26 Jun 2011

ChickLits... Aargh.

I have been feeling a little guilty this past month, since all my free time has been directed towards writing and not much towards reading (the original reason I started to write). And hence a hurried visit to the library had me picking up an assortment of books one of which was Isobel's Wedding by Sheila O'Flanagan. I fell for the pretty chick on the cover and the blurb at the back. 

Looked like a chick-lit, read like a chick-lit and felt like a chick-lit. 

The back cover read:
Four hundred and twenty pearls hand-sewn on to the wedding dress. The Mediterranean honeymoon booked for months. A pile of presents bigger than the Everest. And her lovely Tim, with his jet-black hair and navy-blue eyes, the most perfect bridegroom a girl could wish for. Except, two weeks before the wedding, he changes his mind... Isobel's wedding is off. Her world in tatters, Isobel turns to Spain, a new job, a new life, and as many men as she can decently manage. But part of her knows she has to go back home some day. And that, despite all that happened since she left, she still has unfinished business...


Not that I have anything against chick-lits (am I saying chick-lit too many times?:P). They are good timepass when you are sitting in a bus, bored to death of staring at people and your ear phones have decided to go on a holiday. They are light, easy-on-the-brain and mostly fun (if you can ignore the wafer-thin plots). They don't masquerade as something that they aren't either. Literature written by women for women about (what they perceive to be) women. As simple as that. I have even enjoyed some chick-lits like Something Borrowed by Emily Giffin and such.

But this? This is 600 pages (599 to be exact) of pure rant. Granted that even rant can make sense and be fun (Like Poulomi Das's random rants:P) but this.. *shudders* First it's agonizing over the dumping. Then it's agonizing over the break up. Then it's agonizing over going abroad. Then about sleeping around. Then about the new guy. Then the old one yet again. And the agonizing doesn't stop till the very end. Ms. Flannagan could have wrapped it up in a crisp 250 pages and made life easier for everyone concerned.

Apart from wasting one whole day of my life (I have the unfortunate habits of not resting till I finish a book and not leaving ANY book incomplete, however boring it might be), I gained nada from this book, not even a new word to my vocabulary*sigh* The best part? *note the sarcasm* It is supposed to be 'The Number One Bestseller". Wow. 
It also made me wonder if we, women, are like that in a relationship... over-analyzing everything, clingy and weak-minded. I hope not *shudders again*

And we wonder what guys/men have against chick-lits and why chick-lit authors are not take that seriously. 

Moral of The Story: Next time you reach out for a chick-lit (for alleviating-boredom purposes only) make sure it has no more than 300 pages, max.

In other news, I have been selected (YAY!) to review Love On The Rocks by Ismita Tandon Dhanker by BlogAdda. I haven't been big on Indian authors (except Chetan Bhagat, of course) and I can't wait to change that. The plot sounds interesting, looking forward to the read