Got up this morning and read the first 67 pages of The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards.  That's as far as I'm going to go with this one.  I realized I don't give a crap about the bad decisions made and consequences suffered by fictional people.  I mean, really; isn't life full of enough tragedy without making up stories to entertain ourselves about it?

Years ago I heard some celebrity say that they never read Oprah's book picks because they hated "dead baby" books.  I don't know if Oprah picked this dirge and the baby isn't exactly dead, just down syndrome, but I too, hate "dead baby" books.  I should've checked to see if it was an Oprah pick.  I learned years ago not to trust that woman after reading The Bridges of Madison County.  Oh my god, that book was so bad it made me want to chop out my own ovaries.  Romantic?  There was no romance involved.  It was nothing more than a bored housewife jumping on an opportunity to indulge in a sordid affair with a dink ass-hatted enough to describe himself as the "last cowboy"!!!

If a guy had the nerve to say that to me, I'd punch him in the face, I wouldn't roll around on the kitchen floor with him. 

And that wasn't even the worse part.  The worst part was that the whole story was supposed to be a letter she wrote to her kids!!!!  ABOUT HOW SHE CHEATED ON THEIR FATHER.

There is something morally, intellectually and logically flawed about anyone who liked that book.

Or else they've simply never read a good romance.

Even the teenaged vampires was better than that turd on paper.

I need something good, fun and exciting to read.  I'm not ever remotely interested in a tragedy du jour.

Time to get to Half Price Books.

 

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