I tried to write about my morning yesterday but not like the way I would have. I tried to write about in the Stephanie Meyer’s (Twilight) kind of way because it intrigues me, it intrigues me how someone can write like that. However, I decided not to bore you with it. Four long paragraphs and I hadn’t even been able to get out of bed. I’m the kind of woman who needs her coffee pronto in the morning. I decided it was too torturous for me to have to wait so long for my hit, even if it was just in my little musings, just because I had decided to make use of superfluous adjectives and unnecessary prose. I think I saved us both from pain.
I’m not a fan of the Twilight books. Actually they make me wretch. There are other things that apparently make me wretch. There’s a company that sells books at work. They leave a new bunch every week and you can order them for about half the price we pay here in Australia, in other words they sell their books at American prizes.
Yesterday I was waiting for someone and I took a look at the latest on offer and what did I find if not the much raved about Fifty Shades of Grey. I have heard much but I have never seen before. I picked it up and started to lazily and longingly flick through the thick yet light paperback casting my eager gleaming eyes over the pages, hungrily taking in the small black print that adorned every page.
I’m sorry. It’s rubbish. It’s the same mindless, excessive description crap one sees in Twilight. Maybe that’s my reaction because I happened to land on a page that had a conversation between a very submissive woman and some sort of alpha male. Oh, how droll.
When are we going to get some real heroines?! When is someone going to write something decent with a kick ass gal in it, a girl like tank girl?! I loved tank girl! Tank girl was cool.
I need to avoid that kind of “literature”. It makes me feel odd.
I’m just saying.
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