Chick-lit Gets Serious: Infidelity

I should have campaigned more strongly for a separate category for typical chick-lit authors who occasionally tread in more somber waters. Our official rules require me to balance a light and fluffy book with something more serious, but what about when a Cool Whip book suddenly turns serious? When I'm shuddering, not laughing? When bad things happen to children? What is this genre coming to?

I love to loathe Jennifer Weiner. I didn't mind her first books so much, but at some point she just plain began to bother me. I can't be the first person to think it just wrong that Weiner is shelved right next to Elie Wiesel. But, anyway, she just published "Fly Away Home" and I, lemming that I am, bought it. (In Target. I apologize to all the small, independent booksellers in my area). For some reason, Weiner decided the world had not yet tired of real political sex scandals and thought we'd might like to read a fictional account of one. Yet, she drops names like Eliot Spitzer and Mark Sanford into the plot (are we really going to remember these details of hookers and hikes in 2020?). For me, Weiner committed an unpardonable sin by killing off a child 2/3 of the way into the chick-lit story. Granted, said child was not a main character and was just a blip in the storyline-- but then why did you need it, Jennifer, why??? You let little Joy survive and thrive in those Cannie Shapiro books. As my son would say, "I'm mad at you."

Emily Giffin appears to be trying to leap from chick-lit fame to (slightly) more serious fiction with "Heart of the Matter". The arrogance of some of the central characters kept me from settling into the book. I wanted repercussions, consequences, and punishment for the blatant infidelity (come on, isn't someone going to report this to the Board of Ethics??). I wanted to support the single mom, but she kept insisting on making ridiculous decisions (hey, how about being there for your son instead of texting away to his doctor?). I simply wanted everyone to be on better behavior. If Valerie had just followed her gut and not allowed her six-year-old son to go to a sleepover birthday party at the house of adults she didn't know, none of this would have happened. Cowboy up, Val; it's time to start pointing the finger of blame at yourself.

Sigh. Why can't authors write the plots I want them to follow? I want my chick-lit to be light, sweet and airy, a nice literary dessert.

(I wonder how much longer I can avoid "The French Lieutenant's Woman"? Didn't I read it in college or something?)

The Lure of the Bargain Book: Maneater, Gigi Levangie Grazer

I am a sucker for the bargain bookstore (as is my credit card). My first job in Boston was located across the street from a Buck-a-Book store, and I hauled many a heavy bag laden with books all the way to my apartment behind the last stop on the B Line. I was a charter member of the PaperBackSwap, until I wearied of receiving smoke infused paperbacks that had taken a spill in the tub. Building 19 is great for children's picture books. I've browsed through most of the bargain bins in my area, but had never looked in the book aisle at Ocean State Job Lot...until now.


Since most of my pop culture references are pre-1990, when I read the title, "Maneater", my brain immediately backtracked to Daryl Hall and John Oates. (I recorded it off the radio onto a mixed tape. It probably took me a whole afternoon of circling the dial to finally hear it. Now, I could find and download the song in about 3.2 seconds). The author, Gigi Levangie Grazer, rang no bells. I almost kept walking, but then spied the $1.99 price tag. The cashier exclaimed that it was "freakin' funny", all her friends liked it, and "like the only book she, like, ever read that, like, the teacher didn't make her"...and asked if I had seen the movie?


So then I learn that this book, known (apparently) to all 18-year-old girls in the greater Kingston, MA area, was made recently into a Lifetime movie starring Roseanne's Second Becky (ok, Sarah Chalke from Scrubs, but she'll always be the replacement to me). A bargain book that was made into a straight-to-DVD movie, loved by teen girls? Aren't these all signs telling me that this will be the worst chick-lit book ever??

Never one to run from a challenge, I bought the book and read it. Guess what? I smirked a few times and laughed out loud once. The hours that I was awake that night waiting for my kids to settle down and fall asleep just flew by (or perhaps the absence of a working clock kept me ignorant). I am neither a better nor a worse person for having read "Maneater". I am, however, up a book in the log. As an apology for such an easy read, I ordered the movie from Netflix and will lose at least two nights of reading time in order to watch all 172 minutes (falling asleep while viewing it and waking up hours later will also suffice).

(Is anyone else wondering if Brendan's latest strategy involves stockpiling read books in an attempt to race ahead in the final day of our countdown?)

In Defense of Reading (The Bachelorette Party, Karen McCullah Lutz)

You'll all be happy to know that my daughter is finally on antibiotics, so chances are high that she (and I) will sleep soundly tonight. Besides, I didn't make it to the library today and am all out of a fresh supply of chick-lit.


But, really, why the fuss over whether I'm reading high- or low-brow literature? Last night, my husband watched "Ice Road Truckers". I read 100 pages of "The Bachelorette Party". What's the difference? It's not as if either of us made the world a better place through either choice.


Before settling on a channel, I noted that we could have selected "10 Things I Hate About You" or "Legally Blonde", or even streamed "The Ugly Truth" via Netflix. (God Bless America) In honor of these myriad entertainment options, all in which Karen McCullah Lutz shares screenwriting credit, of course I had to finish her book.

I love when screenwriters decide to write a novel (I'm sure Brendan will chime in with several examples). The book reads just like the movie would, with just a little extra description. The pace is fast, the story moves along quickly and, even if you're not really into the plot, you know you're just racing toward closure. "The Bachelorette Party" is completely unapologetic and never once attempts to be any more than a quick, fun read. Really, with jacket blurbs from Heather Graham and Selma Blair, how could you possibly take it seriously?

Don't Even Think About It, Lauren Henderson

Starting in the late 1970s, my whole extended family gave my grandparents (the heads of a family of nine children) a week on Cape Cod. I use the word "gift" loosely, as we ultimately all joined them in this small cottage for a week of family frenzy. Summer after summer, we returned to this same cottage that, eventually, began to feel like our own. Nothing changed about the cottage (until it practically tumbled into the sea, but I'm ignoring that part), except what books you'd find on the shelves. The titles were rarely anything a 12 year old would recognize and fell heavily in the Rosamunde Pilcher and WWII varieties, neither of which held my interest. Every summer, however, once I depleted those in my own stack, I'd find at least one book that could help pass the time once the sun went down and the card playing started. There's something to be said about books you choose simply because they are there for the taking as opposed to books for which you have some set expectations.

Brendan reading on the deck, 1980 or 81, Dennis, MA

This little vignette has little to do with "Don't Even Think About It", other than it was within my reach early yesterday morning when my daughter finally fell back to sleep after a long night of being sick. I didn't want to risk waking her by leaving to grab my book from the other room, and this was what was available. By the time my daughter was in a deep sleep, I was halfway through, and managed to finish all but the final pages before my younger boys woke up. (Have you realized now that I am the world's most finicky sleeper?) Other than the presence of air conditioning and adult responsibility, it was just like those summer nights on the Cape. Well, almost. Honestly, I really have nothing to say about "Don't Even Think About It", other than the fact that I read it. I apologize in advance for the next book on my log, because my daughter didn't sleep well last night either.

Smart Girls Like Me, Diane Vadino

Admission: I judge books by their covers. Some people select books by author, by recommendation, by awards won. I am a marketer's dream: I select by cover color, font type, book blurbs, buy one/get one stickers.





"Smart Girls Like Me" grabbed my attention with its light pink cover (always a good sign), stock photo image of clothes on hangers (bonus points for creativity), and use of CAPS and lower case (how e.e. cummings of you). The cover blurb by John Hodgman sealed the deal (otherwise known as the PC, but I love him most on The Daily Show). I recognized the author, Diane Vadino, from her blog. Chick-lit, with a dose of humor. How can you go wrong?

Well, first you'd start with a main character who you want to throttle for her outrageous whininess. Add the minor characters of the bridezilla BFF, token gay friend, lying boyfriend and parents having a retirement crisis, and you've got...still nothing. I didn't care about any of the characters and frequently wanted to put the book away, away, away (but that would break my rule requiring me to finish every book I start, a rule that has remained unbroken since I was 10. My other rule is that I can never turn off any song by The Police. I promise, those are my only weird rules.).

Next, add in the fact that each time I turned the page, I wondered if I had actually read the book last summer. I'm still not sure if I did or not (and, alas, the library does not offer a list of books you have checked out previously). Fortunately, this blog will allow me to remember the next time that this pretty pink book catches my eye that I've been there, done that before.

My only take away from this book occurred early on, when the main character talks about a coworker: "As smart as she is, and we all know she is the smartest person in the office, she probably wouldn't have gotten all of what she has if it weren't for her glossy black hair and green eyes and the way she manages to turn a pile of rubber bands sitting in a desk drawer into a bracelet we are meant to infer was casually yet artfully constructed." This line made me flip to the front to find out the copyright date: 2007. Did Diane Vadino invent Silly Bandz? I immediately turned to Google, my trusty comrade, and learned that no, that title belongs to Robert Croak. But she could have been on to something good, had she only capitalized on that thought.

But still, I finished this book, which brings my book count to 1!