A few weeks ago, one of my friends raved about this new eBook she downloaded on her kindle. 50 Shades of Grey, have you heard of it? I had. I heard about how it was originally Twilight fan-fiction and morphed into an adult erotic novel. I told her that I had no interest in romance books. Neither did she. She claimed the sex scenes in the novel were better than any romance novel.
I told her I’d try it.
I mean, it’s safe sex. Can’t get pregnant from a book.
Unfortunately, I can’t get turned on either. I’m stuck on page 30 with thoughts of drowning Anastasia Steele in a tub of vegetable oil. She’s THAT corny and pathetic. Here’s an example sentence for you: “Paul has always been a buddy, and in this strange moment that I’m having with the rich, powerful, awesomely off-the-charts attractive control freak Grey, it’s great to talk to someone who’s normal.”
What? That kind of man is attractive?
Reminds me of Tom Cruise and if the tabloids have even a grain of truth in them, it is not a happy marriage. If the tabloids are 100% accurate, Katie Holmes is in hell.
I’ll give the author, E.L. James, some slack. Women often make horrible choices in men and vice versa. But, the combination I can’t overcome; I like neither the female main character nor the male main character. Anastasia describes herself as not nearly as attractive as any other woman mentioned so far in the book (except for her mother), clumsy, in college without a goal in life, lacking social skills, and stupidly not interested in a killer job offer. If she wants to marry this jerk, Christian Grey, so be it.
I don’t care.
As a reader, I should care.
Which is why I probably will never read that awesome sex scene halfway through the book my friend loved. 50 Shades of Grey is getting shelved.