Those of you who know me know I've been in a state of transition for about a year now. I took on a new career, moved to a new city ... temporarily without my husband. Let's face it: a girl's got needs.
When a co-worker was reading the book Fifty Shades of Grey, I asked her if it was good. She said, "It's porn!" That piqued my interest because I'd heard of this book and it did not look like a romance novel. |
| No good way to read this in public |
Oh holy hell. What happened with this book? I'm approximately 20% through the first in the trilogy and I've found myself sighing (audibly) with exasperation (in crowded subways, no less) at writing which I can only assume is the first draft. A recent review on Amazon sums it up perfectly. If I were laughing or cringing at things the author intended, that would be fine. But when your protagonists are caricatures, and serious moments make you snort with laughter, that's a bad sign. Not sure I can finish this one. A nice bodice-ripper doesn't sound so bad ...
Edit: Here's another article about someone who'd rather read this book with a red pen.
And another.
