I didn’t abandon ship, although I’m sure I’ve lost the two bots that seem to read this. There are things in the pipeline.
I had a birthday, and a comission, and an art show, and moved my friend Stacey (again), and saw my friend Christa. Sadly, that’s twice more that most friends since I’ve moved up here, and she’s in Boston. But it’s been a relatively busy month. Also, the Lego movie is even better than I expected.
What I really mean to post, though:
Now that the trailer for the 50 Shades of Badly Written “movie” is out, my twitter feed is at least half related to it. Mostly either people discussing E.L. James’ insecurity and sending her minions to harass detractors, or just how awful/abusive/misrepresentative the book is. Having never read more than a page or two, I feel my not having read it makes up for all the other schlock I’ve ever read. All those Babysitter Club books I read when I ran out of books on those 10-hour car trips and the Gameboy batteries died. Bad D&D novels (lookin’ at you, Salvatore). Anything I ever read for the cover as a child, especially those A-Team knockoff pulp novels. Any Dickens book I ever managed to get more than 10 pages into.
All of that seems miles better by comparison. Without even getting to the plot and its implications, the deconstruction of the prose I’ve read makes me disappointed that even one human being paid money for it.