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Saturday, November 3, 2007

Not often do I stop reading a book before it's finished

...But once in a while there's one that's just so completely god-awful that I just don't want to waste my time. This time, the culprit was Real Vampires Have Curves - I forget the author.

Now, I barely read chick-lit anyway. The variety with vampires or other occult characters is mildly more interesting, but frankly I just can't relate to big-city twenty-somethings with fluff for brains who spend 1K on designer shoes on a regular basis. They just have absolutely no relation to my life, now or when I was twenty-something. I find them pea-brained and annoying. I picked up this one because it had a vampire, she wasn't living in New York City, and she was a Large-Size woman. As she was 500 years old, I figured she'd have her shit together.

Not so. Even though as a vampire she'll look like she does forever, and she had men telling her constantly how beautiful she was, and she had 500 YEARS to come to terms with her body - not to mention that size body has been stylish up to the last century - she whined and moaned and obsessed on every single page about her weight. Over and over and over. Yawn city. Hell, if I can accept the fact I'll never be smaller than a size 18 for the rest of my life in less than a century, how come she couldn't do it in five? Especially since she had plenty of men telling her they liked her body! That's just stupid. And I don't read books about stupid people. There are enough of them walking the streets.

I read 40 pages, and put it on the freebie shelves at the library I work at. What a waste of paper.

Quote of the day: Of course truth is stranger than fiction – fiction has to make sense.
Mark Twain