Bad Book Bonus #2 – Beautiful Dead – Jonas by Eden Maguire

The Bad Book Bonus goes on. I guess you could say I’m sort of biased when I pick up a book and decide it’s going to be part of BBB, but what can I do? I try to give these suckers a chance and in return, all they give me is a headache. Ow.

Title: Beautiful Dead – Jonas
By: Eden Maguire
Pages: 277
Published by Politiken, 2011
First published 2009

Something strange is happening in Ellerton High. Phoenix is the fourth teenager to die within a year. His street fight stabbing follows the deaths of Jonas, Summer and Arizona in equally strange and sudden circumstances.
Rumours of ghosts and strange happenings rip through the small community as it comes to terms with shock and loss. Darina,Phoenix’s grief-stricken girlfriend, is on the verge. She can’t escape her intense heartache, or the impossible apparitions of those that are meant to be dead. And all the while the sound of beating wings echo inside her head! And then one day Phoenix appears to Darina.
Ecstatic to be reunited, he tells her about the Beautiful Dead. Souls in limbo, they have been chosen to return to the world to set right a wrong linked to their deaths and bring about justice. Beautiful, superhuman and powerful, they are marked by a ‘death mark’ – a small tattoo of angel’s wings. Phoenix tells her that the sound of invisible wings beating are the millions of souls in limbo, desperate to return to earth.Darina’s mission is clear: she must help Jonas, Summer, Arizona, and impossibly, her beloved Phoenix, right the wrong linked to their deaths to set them free from limbo so that they can finally rest in peace. Will love conquer death? And if it does, can Darina set it free?

***

Rating on Goodreads:

I don’t do lying. If something is good, I promise I’m going to tell y’all. I acknowledged that Hush, Hush had tolerable prose and did sexual tension well. In this case I’ll admit the idea is bloody brilliant. If this story had been handled differently… ye gaaads! It would have been awesome. It could’ve been potent and deep and relevant. A perfect book combining crime, romance and the paranormal. A brilliant tale of love and loss and moving on and… gawrsh, I get all tingly just thinking about it.

So… why is it not good? Sit tight for the next 1,5 pages and you’ll find out! Here we go.
Let’s look at writing first and I’ll tell you I’m not impressed. This woman does not know what ‘show – don’t tell’ means. I guess she believes it’s the slogan of a football team or something, ‘cause she sure as hell doesn’t  use it in her writing. It’s all “I was very sad because my boyfriend died” and “he loved med very much” and that’s great and all, but you really got to show me. Because Maguire just tells the reader what’s going on inside the characters’ heads (even characters whose thoughts she couldn’t possibly know BECAUSE SHE HAS A FIRST PERSON NARRATOR) I don’t feel anything for them. At all. And this is supposed to be about love and mourning and loss and if I don’t feel anything reading a book about dead teenagers, you’re a Very Bad Writer™. I guess it IS a very special kind of achievement. Making someone not care about the death of four teenagers… that’s, wow, that’s really impressive. But sad.

[UNREASONABLE, CHILDISH, UNRELATED BIT - if already angry, skip:
Another thing is just a weird choice of words in two places or something (this is nitpicky, but fun, so bear with me). I’ll give you a sentence and you tell me what you’re thinking:
“He took my head in his hands.”
Are you laughing? Because I am. I know what she means, see, but I also have this image of zombie Joe tearing of Boring Sue’s head and subsequently using it as a bowling ball. Not that that sentence would work in any book but when it’s actually about zombies, that’s just hilarious.]

Maybe it’d be easier to sympathise with the tragedy if Ellerton wasn’t the City of People with No Personalities. The characters are so bland, so boring, so stereotyped and trite. There isn’t a single character that stands out to the reader. Their looks are described but at the last period of a description you forget what you’ve just read. The main character is a no one, literally only described by being in love with her boyfriend and there’s some shit about her not liking to give hugs… which is never shown in any way (okay, so it’s told something like: “I don’t usually like to hug people, but now I made an exception” that’s like me saying: “I never eat raw onions, but now I’m eating a sandwich with onions because that last sentence was just stupid filler and an attempt at characterisation which failed BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT CHARACTERISATION IS AND MY BRAIN IS AN OTTER”). Her stupid boyfriend is described by being extremely hot (it’s not like I’ve heard that one befo- OH WAIT) and very nice. Guess they are a perfect match, though, because they’re both boring as a cardboard box with a face painted on it. And even the thought of such a box makes me giggle. If the face is funny.
Speaking about the main character… is it a trend to have a TERRIBLEEEH stepfather of TERRIBLEEHNESS who’s terrible for no  reason whatsoever? Her stepfather is so horrible… not because he beats her, not because he screws her mother’s sister and forces Darina (I actually forgot her name for a second there, fancy that) to shower with a hairless cat as a sort of weird fetish thing, but because he’s boring… really now? He’s boring and thus you can’t get along with him? He actually stands up for you when someone’s almost physically abused you? But he did it all wrong and stuff anyway? WHAT THE FRICK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! I’m not saying some stepfathers aren’t sent from hell, but this guy isn’t. You’re just being difficult to be difficult. You were used to a father who cheated on your mother and this guy is obviously too boring to cheat on her? You should be happy, you little skank. Not moaning that he’s just so boring. IF YOUR BOYFRIEND WASN’T A ZOMBIE HE’D BE MORE BORING THAN YOUR STEPFATHER.

Oh, I guess that kind of leads up to the plot, right? I already said that this idea is brilliant. I absolutely love the premise, because I do like crime stories and I do like crime stories with supernatural elements and I do like crime stories with supernatural elements with romance. I like zombies, too, and I could’ve even lived with the Stephenie Meyeresque reinvention of zombies if this book had been any good. It’s not. And one thing is the fact that a book like Marked (Twilight is so last year – bashing Marked is the new black) is friggin’ horrible, but it doesn’t have any potential like this does. This could’ve been so good and she just wasted it on a blatant Twilight knock off. That hurts, Maguire, it hurts.
Because I’m telling you: if you want to handle subjects like death and loss, you BETTER be talented enough. You BETTER not turn the whole thing into a romantic plot tumour. You BETTER deal with the subject in a way that’s emotional and respectful and intelligent and thoughtful. This is not to be taken lightly. This is not just stupid f**king vampires. This… this… this is so insulting. There are some subjects you shouldn’t tackle without either having experienced it first hand or doing so much research, your eyes pop out and scream “No more! No more! We get it! You understand loss now, just GIMME A BREAAAK!” That’s stuff like death and mourning, drug abuse, rape, child or domestic abuse, serious illness, and serious crime. That is your responsibility as a writer. If you write for serious, you do the f**king research or terrible people like me have a good reason to bitch slap you.
Turning it into a love story between a bland girl and a BUUUTIFULZ zombie is so insulting. Screw vampire stories – they’re harmless, maybe because their deaths usually aren’t so recent as the zombies’ deaths. I can live with vampires and angels and even werewolves but this is just disturbing on so many levels. I know I said instant awesome = add zombies, but I wasn’t talking about a love story, and I wasn’t talking about books dealing with subjects as serious as this.

There are lots of things I won’t elaborate on: the stupid names (Phoenix? How can I take that seriously?), the ugliness of making out with a dead boy, how two dimensional the bad guy is, how boring the ‘mystery’ is (four teenagers have died and that’s supposed to be coincidence or what? Really?)… there are so many aspects of this that makes it terrible. And it’s so much sadder than many of those bad young adult books because this had actual potential for a good plot.

*Deep breath* Dang.

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen

Week 15 is… quite a while ago and thus it’s also quite a while since I read Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. This is not really a review of it, since I don’t feel entitled to review great classics like this. So here guys: have a ramble on Jane Austen’s awesomeness.

Title: Sense and Sensibility
By: Jane Austen
Pages: 462
Published by Collector’s Library
First published 1811

Sense and Sensibility, the first of Jane Austen’s major novels, is a portrait of two very different sisters, Elinor and Marianne Dashwood. Elinor is practical and disciplined, Marianne Capricious and emotional, yet they share a troubled and impoverished family background, and both must struggle to achieve the happiness they deserve. Ranged against them are the forces of a society where men and masculinity predominate; Elinor and Marianne have to balance their emotional needs against the harsh financial realities of the world at large. Sense and Sensibility is a chronicle of romantic misfortunes, narrated with irony and a sharp eye for hypocrisy. A powerful drama of family life and growing up, the novel is at once a subtle comedy of manners and a striking critique of early-ninteenth-century society.

***

Rating on Goodreads: (really liked it)

If I had to describe Jane Austen shortly as I see her, I’d call her an ideal writer. One of my favourite things in a story is a great cast of characters and Austen’s are always unforgettable. Who could ever forget Mr. Collins or Miss Bates or Lydia Bennet? All characters are well-defined and well-rounded. You can hear their voices as clearly as if they were in the room with you.

It’s no wonder that Jane Austen is a classic. Repeatedly, married women with children completely fail to establish romances that are as convincing as Austen’s – and she remained unmarried and a virgin her entire life. No, I’m not talking about Stephenie Meyer, why would you even think that would be the case?

Jokes at Meyer’s expense aside, there is a tendency to misinterpret Austen’s meaning what with Twilight claiming to be (at least partially) based on Pride and Prejudice. It cannot be stressed enough that Austen would not approve of most of Young Adult paranormal romance literature these days – I am certain she would not. What little I’ve read of it, I know there’s a tendency to admire passion over close friendship and equality in character. I’m not just talking about Twilight, but a book such as Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick, which is all about this insane passion that even goes against all reason.

This takes me back to the book at hand, Sense and Sensibility, and wouldn’t you know it – it’s right there in the friggin’ title. It’s in the book’s plot. Be warned: there will be spoilers in a bit.

As is probably known to all, this is a story of two sisters: Elinor is sensible and calm, while Marianne is romantic and emotional. Elinor suffers the loss of a lover while in the end, Marianne almost puts her own life at risk. Guess who’s the more sensible of the two? Yeah, you guessed it. Austen knew it’s not reasonable to put your life at stake over a man. She knew life will go on regardless of a broken heart. She knew what nobody seems to know these days. Ironically, Austen’s books are a better life lesson for girls, and they were written at a time when women weren’t allowed to get an education or to vote and they were thought inferior to men. Take away the whole ‘you need to marry or you’re nothing’ and the message at it’s core is: Life goes one. It’s never worth throwing your life away for some man. Even if Elinor hadn’t gotten her man in the end, she have, in time, have gotten over it.
That’s not unromantic or anything – it’s healthy.

Guys, stop reading Hush, Hush, and Twilight and other such books and go for Jane Austen. Fill in a message that fits our time period better and you have not only a most entertaining read with a cast of great characters, sizzling wit, biting irony and a good story – you also have a message that makes most young adult literature look like soft core porn with a plot deficiency.

5 Amazing Book Titles (That Were Stolen by Terrible Books)

I’m behind schedule. Hard. ‘Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell’ is a mouthful (and a seven hundred-something page mouthful – that’s a lot of book) – couple that with laziness and unexpected illness which I suddenly ran into yesterday and you have it. Behind schedule. I apologise to the god of books, if such a god even exists (and let’s just pretend I’d believe in such a god) and I apologise to my perfectionism, which is quite stubborn, but couldn’t quite fight of whatever the frick was wrong with me yesterday. I’m generous, though, so I decided that I wanted to give you a teeny-weeny article anyway (teeny-weeny = three pages). Let’s do this!

Book titles, an elusive species – they lure you in and make you all curious and gooey. Some of the most brilliant titles hide brilliant content: Pride and Prejudice, A Game of Thrones, Wuthering Heights, The Merchant of Venice, Portal (yes, that’s a video game – your point being…?) Others though… not so much.

I’ve gathered five books with brilliant titles and crappy content. Now, I expect this list will probably expand as I continue my bad book bonuses, but so far this is what I found:

#5 – Twilight by Stephenie Meyer

“Louise! Louise!”
“Why, yes, hypothetical curious person?”
“Why is Twilight number five on this list – is it because it’s less sucky than the rest?”
“Nope. Not really. There are actually books on this list that I thought were better than Twilight, but EVERYBODY is bashing Twilight, so I decided to put it number five so as to not spend too much time on it.”
“You don’t really have anyone to talk to, do you?”
“No, I don’t, but that’s what hypothetical curious people are for!!”

The title promises:
Something like the song Twilight by Vanessa Carlton (no relation to the book series, whatsoever) which is a magical piece of music. Something mysterious, dark yet hopeful. Check out the song and tell me that song is not what you feel when you hear the word twilight.

We get:
Oh, you all know what we get – moody teenagers, borderline abusive relationships, lack of plot and characterisation and a very disturbing fourth novel. Twilight isn’t fun to mock anymore – moving on!

#4 – Marked by P. C. Cast and Kristin Cast

This is, hands down, probably the worst novel on the list. If you’ve read my review of it, you know how I feel about this, so I won’t go into too much detail (though that would be fun) – I’ll just say that this is the worst, but it’s number four because I’ve already bashed it so thoroughly, I’d be surprised if the Casts didn’t have bad dreams that night.

Because I totally am that bad ass… yes I am, shut up.

The title promises:
Well, I don’t know, but something awesome. At the top of my head, I see a sweeping epic about a young woman who’s been branded in society for sleeping around. Or a super bad ass prison story where all prisoners are marked with this bad ass tattoo and treated like crap. That sounds totally awesome. Can we get someone to write that? It could be all symbolic and shit – something along the lines of both a mark that can be seen and one that cannot, and even though the horrid prison tattoo is gone many years later when Jack White tells the story to his grandchildren, the mark is still there, under his skin…

Crap, I hate this book even more now. Wasted potential for awesome hurts.

We get:
Don’t get me started. Really. I think I made myself clear enough in my review. I’ll just give you a few key words: sucky, poorly written, stupid plot, Mary Sue’s cousin, abuse of ancient Greek names… jsf03w9ut0325r345r90jhdfkj… We basically get the stupidest thing in young adult literature since Stephenie Meyer started hammering on the keyboard – and this somehow managed to surpass Twilight in stupidity. That’s impressive, Casts, but also really, really sad.

#3 – The Secret Crusade by Oliver Bowden

I like Assassin’s Creed. I like books. I should like books based on Assassin’s Creed, and yet, I f**king don’t. Right, so maybe it should have been obvious to me that this would suck. It is a truth universally acknowledged that books/movies based on videogames suck… but I was blinded by awesome, I wanted moooooar!

The title promises:
‘The Secret Crusade’ is one big question – what crusade? And it’s also… quite clever, actually. The book (and first AC game) takes place during the Crusades and this is about a secret crusade going on alongside the not-so-secret Crusades. And that… you know that’s actually kind of clever. I like it. Even not knowing this sort-of-symbolism/punny-thing, the title is cool. Secret is a good word in a title because it makes you curious. ‘There’s a SECRET thing?! I have to know what that secret thing is all about!!!’ At least that’s how I react. I like secrets.

We get:
Copy-pasted dialogue from the game (which is actually cool – the dialogue is probably what made this bearable) and Bowden’s shitty writing. What is that, you say? Character depth and emotion? Ha! Bowden laughs at such notions! No, let’s just… copy-paste stuff and… skip parts and shit. And kill off characters! And be very inelegant about it! And not research the time period or culture it takes place in!

Look, I’m not sure I can write this any more clearly: this book sucks. Screw you, Bowden!

#2 – City of Bones by Cassandra Clare

If you go buy this book these days, it’s recommended by Stephenie Meyer. The quality is kind of what you’d expect based on this info.

The title promises:
Dude, look at that title. Are you thinking about zombies? Because I totally am. Or perhaps an army of skeletons! Or, or – perhaps an army of skeletons fighting an army of zombies for the right to rule the City of Bones! That’s so… I can’t even… that would rock! (Instant awesome – just add zombies!) If they wanted, they could throw in a silly love triangle and I’d still buy it, as long as there were zombies tearing off skeletons’… heads? Skulls!

We get:
Cassandra Clare’s edited Harry Potter fan fiction. I am not flippin’ kidding you. Before she was published, she was known as Cassandra Claire (wow that’s… so imaginative) and then she wrote a very popular Harry Potter fan fiction – the Draco Trilogy. I’m in a generous mood, so I won’t mention the fact that she apparently lifted several sentences from other books, from tv-shows, etc. (oh, look at that, I mentioned it anyway – the irony!) but apparently she decided, when she got published, to just change the names a bit (well, okay, and probably the plot) and publish it as original fiction – that’s what people who read both believe, so who am I to argue? I only read this. On its own, it’s pretty bad, too. It’s not as sucky as Twilight (it has a plot, you see), but it’s not good either, and certainly not worthy of a title that should belong to an epic book about Zombies vs. Skeletons!

#1 – The Expected One by Kathleen McGowan

This is one of the only books I’ve ever not given up on, but flat out refused to finish. Fifty pages before the end, I just slammed it shut and thought: No, screw this. Here’s why…

The title promises:
So, the titles is bit of a cliché, sure, but it’s still cool. The Expected One. It sounds cool and destiny-ish and stuff. On the top of my head, I’m thinking: a civilisation on the border of complete destruction (by zombies) and they’re waiting for the Expected One, and then one day someone turns up and says ‘I’m totally the Expected One’ and everyone believes him, but in the end it turns out he’s really not – the entire society is, and when they finally join forces to kill the zombies and save the world, they realise that they, together, are strong enough and don’t need an Expected One. And there’s this angry guy and a more idealistic guy with some political differences and they have to find common ground to defeat them and show that the people is strong and… I’ve totally written this entire story in my head. Would be so cool.

We get:
A descendant of Mary Magdalene. Leonardo da Vinci as a bad guy (who casts Leonardo as a bad guy?! Leonardo was totally cool – a bit weird, sure, but completely chill and stuff, he drew tanks and flying machines, how was he not cool?). A boring book. And it’s about the Holy Grail and came to light right around the time the Da Vinci Code became popular (yeah, go figure).

Oh, and this is the kicker: even if this book isn’t as bad as, say, Marked, if you look around on the web, you’ll find the author of this book swearing that she, herself, is a descendant of Mary Magdalene. It’s true – she had visions while in Jerusalem and she has definite proof that she’s the descendant. Oh? You want to see this evidence? Well, she won’t show you. Even if the book isn’t so bad (what made me slam it shut was the whole ‘I’m the descendant’ coupled with boredom and Leonardo as a bad guy (you seen him in Assassin’s Creed II? He’s way cool), but it was mostly just ‘meh’) the craziness of the author is really jarring and makes me completely unable to enjoy this thing. You so silly, McGowan…

Bad Book Bonus #1 – Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick

Bad Book Bonus is mostly a bonus for me (and those who like swear words and Caps Lock and childish behaviour). When I’m ahead with my list, I like to read stupid little books that are Very Bad and write seething reviews that truly display what a terrible human being I am. This first Bad Book Bonus is Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick and… sigh, I’m not even sure I’d call this a bonus. Let’s take a look at it.

Title: Hush, Hush – Forelsket i en engel
Original title: Hush, Hush
By: Becca Fitzpatrick
Pages: 318
Published by Tellerup, 2011
First published 2009

For Nora Grey, romance was not part of the plan. She’s never been particularly attracted to the boys at her school, no matter how much her best friend, Vee, pushes them at her…until Patch comes along.
With his easy smile and eyes that seem to see inside her, Nora is drawn to him against her better judgment, but after a series of terrifying encounters, Nora’s not sure whom to trust. Patch seems to be everywhere she is, and to know more about her than her closest friends. She can’t decide whether she should fall into his arms or run and hide. And when she tries to seek some answers, she finds herself near a truth that is far more unsettling than anything Patch makes her feel.
For Nora is right in the middle of an ancient battle between the immortal and those that have fallen – and when it comes to choosing sides, the wrong choice will cost her life.

***

Rating on Goodreads:

Third time’s the charm. At least I hope so with this review (This is the third time I’m beginning… though, strictly speaking, this was added when I edited so this is 3.5^th time and I guess it’s the charm or something or other… wow, this is so… mindfucky). Thing is – I knew this was going to be bad but I didn’t know in what way it was going to be bad. I’m not even amused. Marked was a lot of fun to read – it’s bad beyond all reason so you expect nothing. This, however. What the fuck was she thinking?

We start out with okay writing. That was a bit disappointing, seeing as I was hoping for something worse but yeah, I actually liked it (though unwillingly). Fitzpatrick is hopeless at similes though (they’re really awkward – she’d do well to stick with more obvious similes or just avoid them all together), and she should just not try to write any kind of action or suspense, ever. She has this habit of putting the action to a screeching halt to analyse the situation logically and that just kills suspense stone dead (basically it’s like if I put a halt to this review to get all meta about how many times I’ve rewritten this review). Leave logic out of your suspense, lady – suspense is not about logic but emotion, most specifically fear – and fear is not logical. Other than that, yeah, you know, it’s okay.

The plot’s where everything goes to Stupid City. Fitzpatrick is trying so desperately to create a mystery with several plot threads and then to tie them together in the end and it just fails. She introduces a character that seems nice enough and then very, very suddenly *youdonotseeitsheisaninja* she turns him bad and the rest of the book is basically Fitzpatrick manically yelling: ‘HE’S THE BAD GAAAI! HIM, OVER THAAAR! HE’S EVUUUL!’ by the time you get to the reveal of the real bad guy, you’re both deaf (metaphorically deaf, then, shut up) and bored out of your mind. Who cares about the reveal? The plot is a mess and it basically comes down to different people wanting to kill the main character for different reasons (very bad reasons, mind, I mean, she’s not Bella Swan level annoying… for the first few chapters of the book). The plots don’t tie well together and it just doesn’t work. Fitzpatrick is not good at suspense or subtlety and that, my dear friends (cue people throwing stuff at me, no, you’re not my friends, but shut up, I like to pretend), is why this woman should absolutely stay away from mystery in her writing.

What really makes me angry about this book though is something different, and it’s not a good kind of angry I’m afraid. The good angry is giddy and childish and Caps Locked and lolcatted and this kind of anger just isn’t. I’m just sitting here, thinking of every swear word I can think up and they don’t cut it. I can about sum it up like this: What.

What is this woman thinking? Is this what this Twilight-craze has come to? Absolute, utter insanity?
As a writer of romance, your job is to make your reader fall in love with the character along with your main character. Now, feeling attraction towards this character, sheesh, no biggie – she actually does sexual tension pretty well, but am I in love with Mr. Moody? (Not Mad Eye, sheesh, you think he’d be the love interest in a paranormal romance? The change would be nice, but no, sorry) The answer to whether or not this character is one to fall in love with, is, of course, a whopping: Fuck no!

I’m going to spoil kind of parts of the ending (though, not much to spoil seeing as Fitzpatrick is just as subtle as a kick to the groin) – this guy wanted to kill her. He wanted to throw her off a rollercoaster and later he considered stabbing her and sure, he didn’t because he was so in wuv with her, but does that really excuse everything? He regrets and it’s twu wuv but take a look, deep down inside, consider the implications of what I’m saying here: He. Wanted. To. Kill. Her.
Kill. Her. He wasn’t just compelled by some vampiric desire to drink her blood like a certain mister Sparkly Pants, he wanted to kill her (spoiler) for his own sake.
He wanted to kill her.
Now, say I was a smoking hot guy and I told you: “I ameth so in love with thee! I had plannedth to kill thee, but I couldst not do it!” (right, so my Shakespearean English is a bit rusty and I’m exaggerating and shut up). Would you forgive me? If anyone said that to me, I sure as flippin’ hell wouldn’t. There are three things you need to do when someone casually tells you: “I wanted to kill you” they are not: swoon, moan and make out. More like: run, yell, call the police.
This is despicable. This is horrifying. I don’t care that her ‘instincts’ tell her he won’t kill her. This is what you want teenagers to live their life by, Fitzpatrick? Really? This is despicable even for young adult paranormal romance. It makes Stephenie Meyer look sane (see what I did there? Hyperbole!) and it makes me cringe. In spite of the hopeless plot, this isn’t even that terrible, but with the message you’re sending to young girls… it is unforgivable.

[Edited for language 27/5-2012]

Explaining Myself

So, I kind of feel like a bitch. I’ve read three books recommended by friends. One, I really liked (A Game of Thrones), and two of them I weren’t too fond of (7.a and The End of Mr. Y). It’s fair game, really, there’s no reason I should feel guilty about having a different taste from my friends. Disagreement is the spice of life (or, you know, something along those lines), yet, I do feel guilty – will my friends feel like they’re wasting my time? Well, they’re not, and here’s why.

I read bad books on purpose. I read the entire Twilight-saga and loathed it. I read Danielle Steel and loathe her books. The point being I sort of like being angry at books. I’m not a masochist (at least I’m pretty sure I’m not), but I like being angry at books, I like writing bitchy reviews and maybe it makes me a horrible person but it also makes me feel… alive.

See, life isn’t too short for bad books. Life is too short to not feel every single emotion in the world. Happiness, love, excitement are the things we want to feel – sadness, disappointment and anger are things we need to feel. If I only ever read good books, how will I know what a bad book is? Try looking up what good it does a person to only ever feel happiness in his or her life. Not only is that damn near impossible, it’s also, you know, unhealthy. We need ups and downs and highs and lows and personally, I’d like to be really angry at books instead of the people I love.

Another thing is I’m a writer (I write therefore I’m a writer – I haven’t published) and as a writer there’s a craft I want to master. That craft is writing and I don’t care how many Interwebs-guides there are that says you can write however the F you please – there are rules on how to write a good novel, there are certain guidelines you need to follow to make a good character, a good plot, a good story. The rules are broken all the time, sure, but before you break the rules, you gotta follow them. Learning by doing is not enough when you write, at least that’s what I believe, you have to learn by imitating, then you break away from the rules and start doing your own thing. Reading teaches me what I like to do with books, how I like to write – and they teach me how I absolutely don’t want to write.

I can’t promise that I’ll like every book thrown at me (Oi! That’s metaphorically speaking, put the book down!) but I can promise to be as honest as possible. If I like a book, I like it and will rain praise from the heavens upon it. If I don’t like it, I’ll roast it in the fire of my reviews. Because reading is important – whether what you read is bad or good.

Let’s not even get started on the definition of good and bad litterature!

Borrowed Books

Sometimes, I don’t wanna buy books or, more often, I want to but I can’t afford it because I spent my money on a Yogscast T-shirt, Assassin’s Creed comics and cat food. And that’s when the library and kind people come in handy! Sometimes, even kind people at the library.

From the Library I got my hands on 7.a by Bjarne Reuter (left)(Danish book), I’ve already finished it and the review is coming up soon. Woohoo!

To the right: L. Frank Baum’s The Wizard of Oz which I borrowed from my friend. Don’t know how long I’ll hold on to it, ’cause no one knows when I’ll be reading it. Only time – and the draw from my little Twilight Eclipse*-box will tell!

*No, I am not, in fact, a fan of the Twilight saga. Quite the opposite and therefore a friend of mine gave me a little Twilight candy-box with lovely Edward Cullen on the front *le facepalm* when I made little pieces of paper with the numbers of the books on them it seemed so brilliantly obvious to draw them from this little box. Useless fact for ya.

45 Books in 2012

I had a writer’s crisis recently and it led me to ponder the wise words of Mr. Stephen King who says that J. K. Rowling is a magnificent writer and Stephenie Meyer can’t write worth a damn… wait, sorry, actually, the wise words I pondered were what he says about reading and writing – that if you don’t have the time to read, you don’t have the time or the tools to write.

And hey, I want tools! So, what’re you gonna do when you’re a university student with two written assignments coming up and too much homework to count? You’re gonna read a book a week for the rest of the year, that’s what! Rather than just picking out 45 books on my own, I decided to let other people choose for me and this is the list of 45 books – y’know, to broaden my horizon. Surprisingly, these lovely people decided not to make me read crap, despite my saying I’d read anything.

1. Tales of Unease, sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
2. Journal 64, Jussi Adler-Olsen (Danish).
3. Second Chance, Danielle Steele.
4. Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen.
5. Morning, Noon and Night, Sidney Sheldon.
6. Marked, P. C. Cast and Kristin Cast.
7. A Bend in the Road, Nicholas Sparks.
8. A Game of Thrones, George R. R. Martin.
9. Mistress of the Art of Death, Ariana Franklin.
10. Gallileo’s Dream, Kim Stanley Robinson.
11. Duma Key, Stephen King.
12. The Outcast, Sadie Jones.
13. Arabat, Clive Barker.
14. The Colour of Magic, Terry Pratchett.
15. Imperium, Robert Harris.
16. The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Douglas Adams.
17. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, Susanna Clarke.
18. The End of Mr. Y, Scarlett Thomas.
19. The Hobbit, J. R. R. Tolkien.
20. Fight Club, Chuck Palahnuik.
21. The Dice Man, Luke Rhinehart.
22. The Fry Chronicles, Stephen Fry.
23. The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ, Philip Pullman.
24. The Divine Comedy, Dante Aleghieri.
25. En ufo gør entré, Jonas Gardell (Swedish, reading in Danish).
26. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum.
27. Ned til hundene, Helle Helle (Danish).
28. 7.a, Bjarne Reuter (Danish).
29. Lille Virgil, Ole Lund Kirkegaard.
30. Animal Farm, George Orwell.
31. The Help, Kathryn Stockett.
32. Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China, Jung Chang.
33. Becoming Madame Mao, Anchee Min.
34. The Princess Bride, William Goldman.
35. The Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, Gregory Maguire.
36. Brave New World, Aldous Huxley.
37. Lord of the Flies, William Golding.
38. The Gods Themselves, Isaac Asimov.
39. Ondskaben, Jan Guillou (Swedish, reading in Danish).
40. Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury.
41. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl.
42. Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.
43. The Uncommon Reader, Alan Bennett.
44. I, Claudius, Robert Graves.
45. Cat’s Cradle, Kurt Vonnegut.

So, yeah, there is crap on there, surely, but all crap was chosen by me (because I’m a big, fat cheat and I’m gonna suffer for breaking the ancient code of reading challenges). The rules are simple: I’m gonna read a book a week and except for the first two, I’m gonna pick them randomly – I’ve made little notes with numbers and put them in my lovely Twilight-tin box-thingy and everything (don’t you just love friends who give you stuff you really don’t want?)

So, I hope you fancy joining me on my litterary quest of awesome (and, frankly, non-awesome, because I’m gonna read Danielle Steel and it’s gonna get ugly) – maybe you’re inspired to do the same? Maybe you just want to read my bitchy, snarky posts? Maybe you just want a snack? In any case, I’ll do my best! (But I can’t promise I’ll give snacks).

//Gnasler