Let me start off by saying that I have not read 50 Shades of Grey, and nor will I be reading it. Ever.
Ok, I’ve read the first ten or so pages (they were still in the office – that’s as far as I got) and I couldn’t read any further. It hurt my brains, and I tell you what, my reading standards are fairly low (I’ve read ALL the Sookie Stackhouse books and I get a bit excitement when the new one comes out. Standards. I have them. They are LOW). If it’s entertaining and well written – eh, I’ll read it. This was neither, therefore I won’t. In fact, if this were an essay produced by a hormonal teenage girl (which is what it reads like) in year ten – I’d still be sending it back with a lot of red pen and ‘please try harder’.
However, in saying that, I really don’t mind that it’s more everywhere than Eddie McGuire. You know why? Because even though it’s badly written drivel – it’s getting a whole lot of women who have, for one reason or another, lost the time or the interest in reading and getting them picking up a BOOK. And reading it. And talking to their friends about it. (And according to at least one friend, gettin’ jiggy with it. Which was way too much informations at the time, I fair give you the tip. Sometimes having a very visual imagination is NOT a good thing.)
And because this book is classified as “mummy porn” – I dare say I would be quite within my rights to assume that it’s a whole lotta mummies with their paws on it (and the odd granny or two as well. TMI, peeps. TMI.) And mummies have kids and the best way to get kids to read is to well, read in front of them! Even if it’s badly written, loosely disguised fan-fiction masquerading as porn (or the other way round – ten pages, remember?) You never know… maybe, once these mummies have rediscovered the joys of a book in hand, so to speak – they’ll hit up the interwebs and discover Jacqueline Carey and Anne Rice. Much better written filth, I give you the tip.
Now, what HAVE I been reading, seeing as I’ve not been reading 50 Shades of Grey?
Let me see…
Book 17: Insurgent – Veronica Roth. Good, but a) not as good as the first one, and b) a little disappointing. And less than memorable, too.
Books 18 and 19: Books 10 and 11 of The Dresden Files. I’ve told you about those before, so more of the same. Less dinosaurs, more swordfights. As an aside, I finally got hold of the TV series and I was a little disappointed. They’d played fast and loose with the characters and the car and the locations and everything – in fact, the only thing the did well was BOB! Disappointment. Again, perils of the strong visual imagination.
(Struggling a bit to remember what else I’ve been up to – e-reader is FLAT, damnit!)
Book 20: A paper one! Whispers Under Ground by Ben Aaronovitch. This is the third in a series about a policeman who discovers magic is real when he tries to interview a ghost at the scene of the crime. They’re good. Read them. And read his blog as well. He has a really cool series about how he was inspired to write The Folly series, and the books he read that inspired him in some way. This includes a couple of my absolute favourite books (Roofworld, Christopher Fowler; William Gibson – can’t remember which one). Oh, and the cover is absolutely gorgeous (hence my buying an actual book! I fell for the cover of Rivers of London, then, when it was good, followed it up with the rest of them. He’s also written some more sword and sorcery stuff, and some Dr Who books as well.)
Book 21: The Mother’s Group – Fiona Higgins. You know what? It was crap. It was well written, but the story? Cliche ridden, totally predictable AND well left open for an sequel. Didn’t like it at all. There was something missing from all of the characters, and it took a really really long time to get to the Bad Thing, which seemed to be glossed over instead of being the main focus of the story. Don’t go there. Please.
Currently, I’m reading a couple of books – A Game of Thrones by George Martin is the main one holding my attention. This is REALLY good. However, I am finding it a bit too exciting for before bed reading and I’ve been having a few quite interesting dreams as a result. Interesting – and not in the slightest relaxing! So I’ve been reading something else in between times – and the name of that one escapes me. And because the e-reader is flat, I will most likely be thumbing through the CWA cookbook which is also on my bedside table. So, it’s the end of July and I’ve read more than TWENTY books! I think it’s probably 22 or 23, as there’s a couple I can’t remember. But hey, it’s a load more than I thought I’d get through.