I Drank the Kool-Aid, Yo…and I Feel, well, Used.
Spoiler Alert! If you are currently reading “Fifty Shades of Grey” or plan to read it, stop reading now. I may give away or hint at some vital plot twists and turns. If I am going to receive angry hate mail, I want to earn it. I don’t want it to be over something as ridiculous as Fifty Shades.
When I first learned about it, I had absolutely zero interest in reading “Fifty Shades of Grey,” but I kept hearing more and more, and I’m ashamed to say, I totally caved to the hype. Even after the author confessed to being a crappy writer, and for this, I am embarrassed for myself. Not that I am any sort of literary genius, but when the author herself says that a book is mediocre, you should probably listen. Right? In a conversation with my friend Margaret, I mentioned my annoyance with the book and she said; “I think expecting a book like that to be stylized literature is like asking the Pope for fashion advice.” Fair point, well made Ms. Mags.
It was with this knowledge that I was able to plod through all three books (which, I didn’t realize it was a trilogy until I was already well into the first one). Another annoyance to me.
I will admit, the first one was titillating, exciting, and had a great cliffhanger ending. I was proud of strong, empowered Anastasia for standing up to Grey and walking out on him. Go girl power! So naturally I wanted to see what would happen. But by midway through the second book, I. Was. Bored.
I started rolling my eyes at the sexy scenes, and skipping over anything that mentioned her “inner goddess” or “subconscious.” And, was anyone surprised when she got pregnant? It’s like when a sitcom is out of ideas so they start adding babies to stay on the air. Seriously, think about it. Did Andy actually add any great plots to “Family Ties” or Chrissy on “Growing Pains” for that matter?
Not to knock the little tykes, they were cute and all, but they were just pawns to hold off the inevitable.
The only thing that the addition of the baby to Fifty Shades added was proof that she tamed her man. Like that’s possible. I guess that’s why they call it fiction.
Also, to drive the final knife into my heart, I discovered that my father-in-law was at the same point in the third book that I was at last week! Yes, you read that right. My seventy-five year old father-in-law. So in my head, the book is now titled “Fifty Shades of Pop-Pop” ~ Awkward! That’s the high school boy equalivlant of friending your mom on FaceBook. The media hype needs to end. We’ve reached the end of the spectrum.
Thank you. Rant over, I’ll just get my coat (bows dramatically).Uncategorized by Sandee Harned