Overdosing on Chick-Lit
Reading chick-lit out loud to Choo-Choo which can be downright funny, is no fun. He just looks at me and wails. Thinking he wants me to stop reading books like Smart vs. Pretty which I finished yesterday, and Asking for Trouble which I’m already half-way through and move on to more serious literature. Not to be a book snob, but some of these books are no better than harlequin romance novels which I pride myself on not reading. In fact, I’ve never read a harlequin romance novel. Yet, I can’t tear myself away from this new wave of romance novels with there predictable plots. Basically, all the books revolve around a 20 or 30-something single woman who obsesses about her love life, weight, family, floundering career, etc. They are all too Bridget Jones. Or better yet, wannabe Sex and the City. Goodness! Why do I keep reading these things? Yes, on some level I can relate to the main characters, but come on. You know what, maybe I should just stop trying to analyze and be thankful I’m reading and recognize that as much as I want to start reading Madeline Albright’s memoir (which is bound to be much more serious and profound), I’m so not ready for that type of book right now. I need escapism. Of course it not really escapism, as these books remind me about what I need and want so much in my life. Oh well. Next up, Ghosts of Boyfriends Past. Oh Goodie!