I like the idea of this tag because I function from honesty always….but also because it reminds me of being on MySpace in the early 2000s. #emo
If you are familiar with my reviews or general things I write around here, it’s not going to come as a surprise to you that I can be very straightforward with my opinions and thoughts. And in the spirit of my honest principle (different from the pleasure principle) I’m going to be straight with you: This tag is lonnnggggg.
And it will only be interesting to you, if you a) want to know more about me to better stalk me via the internet, or b) think I’m funny and want to see what crazy shit comes out of my mouth.
I’ll try to keep my answers short and bitter sweet so it doesn’t take you as long to read as it did for me to write it.
Now, I know it’s not Tuesday, but if you read my post from last week about Blake Leibel, the trust fund douche who murdered his girlfriend just weeks after she gave birth to their daughter, then you have been waiting with bated breath for an update on the trial.
Or you’ve been waiting with normal breath, no irregular breathing pattern at all. That seems more likely.
Breaking News: about 12 hours ago, the jury came back with its decision.
So it’s officially time for True Crime Tuesday – Thursday Update…or something like that. It would be better if I had some kind of flashing graphics for it.
Hey Nerdos! How’s the mildly inflammatory post title hitting you?
Right in the nads, I hope.
But, seriously, how’s life? I’m honestly interested. I need to know. Tell me about yourselves, tell me what’s going on. Because I’m always telling you about my life, like maybe to an overtly personal degree, as if this isn’t a book blog at all.
So, let’s make this uncomfortableness a two-way street.
This week is crazy busy for me. There’s so much going on at home, from preparing for a 15th birthday party for the stepkid, to cleaning out the other stepkid’s room because he moved out and I want my goddamn office space, to trying to build and stain our Adirondack chairs because it was cheaper to DIY-it than to buy them ready-to-sit and I’m all about DIY where I can if it saves me more money for books.
PS. whoever decided that Willy Wonka Funko dolls are worth $50 can get bent. You’ve ruined a teen’s birthday wish!
Anyway, through it all, I’m super dedicated to getting some books read and putting some half-assed content up on this clearly amateur blog.
Today’s post is going to be a personal book blogging existential crisis experience. That sounds like a blasty-blast, right?
I’m going to be working through a thing, so just bear with me and feel free to let me know your opinions in the comments.
If you’ve ever thought to yourself “what would Bridget Jones be like as a homicide detective?” …then I think you’ll want to read this book.
I myself have never wandered about Bridget Jones taking on different career paths, (really she does enough of that in her own stories,) but now that I have some idea of what a DS Jones would look like, I’ll tell you, it doesn’t work.
Missing, Presumed in the first book in the DS Manon Bradshow series – a UK police procedural revolving around the disappearance of the twenty-something daughter of a prominent doctor.
Overall I found this to be severely lacking on the police procedural part and overwrought on the personal “character-study” side, like to such annoying degree that I’m physically disappointed by this book. It’s certainly not what it was presented to be on the jacket or in the blurbs.
I wasn’t old enough in the early 90s to full enjoy it. The big bangs and long hair and neon spandex. Saved by the Bell, 90210 and Nirvana and Chris Farley SNL days. I was aware, but I wasn’t. I remember being in my cousin Bill’s room one day after school – he’s 10 years old than me – and he had the Nirvana smiley face on everything. I asked him “what’s this?” and he said, “it’s a thing for a band.” That might have been the first time I took in the concept of a band.
I was a teenager in the early 2000s. Things like Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake in full jean outfits, Blink-182 and “flared” jeans, trucker hats and unnecessary scarves were really what was going on when I fully came online as a person, for better or for worse. Early 2000s fashion is truly some of the very, very worst.
There are things about being a little girl in the 90s that have stuck with me and shaped me as a person, though. Clueless is still one of my favourite movies. I always wanted to grow up and own a white Jeep. Maybe some day still. Scream inspired my love of horror. And Silence of the Lambs inspired my love of crime fiction.
My love of true crime didn’t start until later when I turned on an episode of Dateline for the first time. Oh, you mean this is like the murder-mysteries I read except for real life?! Count me in!
Maybe that’s why I find myself drawn towards 90s true crime. It was happening, and I didn’t know it. My access to information was so much more limited. But now I can learn all about these things that were going on in the world while I was growing up. Plus the fashion, the pop culture – I feel connected to it.
So, for this week’s True Crime Tuesday, we’re going to go back to 1991. To a yogourt shop in Austin, Texas, where four girls died in a fire.
This is Booknook Sunday – my one day to talk about home design as it relates to books and my own life.
I’ve had a long past couple of weekends with some reno projects, so I haven’t been able to post book nook decor as much as I intended to, but the good news is, we finally finished renovating our foyer/front hall closet (it only took six weeks!) and even painted the upstairs hallway. I took a queue from Dita Von Teese and went with a deep purple just like her personal library. My husband hates it but I don’t give a shit…
My girl Greyson, over at Greyson Reads, tagged me to do this original gem created by Cait @ Paper Fury, which was inspired by a couple of G’s other blog posts. It’s colours as emotions as related to books.
It’s like our very own booknerd version of Emotion-evoked Synesthesia. (Google it, it’s pretty cool.)
Of course, I will never experience Synesthesia because, I’ll be honest, I’m pretty dead on the inside. This tag could end up being exceptionally difficult for me, but I’ll usually try anything once – even emotions.
“What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate.”
This quote from the 1967 film, COOL HAND LUKE, basically sums up how I’m feeling after reading this book. And I’ve never even seen the movie. The quote just came to me, as a thing I know somehow, deep from within the pop culture recesses of my mind. There’s a lot of useless information in there.
I might also go with: “…in the galaxy of This Sucks Camel Dicks!” Stepbrothers, 2008.
What I mean to say is: I wish the publishers hadn’t stuffed this novel into the psychological-thriller genre just because that’s where all the cool kids are, and had instead been honest about what this book is: a dark romance meets women’s fiction meets soap opera intrigue with a terrible, TERRIBLE message.
It’s not a thriller. I’m sorry, but no. I am not thrilled.
Had I known this from the start, I would have passed on reading it, because this level of dramatic soap-opera nutty-ness is just not my thing. It lacks humour and humanity, and is overpopulated with terrible one-liners, cliches and silly dialogue and tropes that feel like a reenactment. And the writing is derivative and basic.
Not to mention, the internal misogyny that permeates the entire theme gets my feminist hackles up.
Anyway… I didn’t know I shouldn’t read this, so I did, and now I have library late fees and a shitty review to write, so buckle in, bitches.
(This could get mildly spoiler-y because I’m going to rant, so if you’re super excited to read this, here’s my takeaway: Don’t waste your time with this, unless you’re cool with domestic abuse. Otherwise, read on!)
Bonus for me: I’ve got Monday off work. I’m determined to make this weekend super productive for reading! It’s top priority.
I’d say last night was pretty productive for reading, as well, because I literally had no other choice. When I got home from work around 5PM, the power was out at my house, as well as 223 other houses. And we didn’t get electricity back until this morning! Joy-of-fucking-joys!
I felt like an Amish person – lighting candles, walking around in the dark, crying that we have no Wi-Fi (Amish people cry about that, right?)
As expressed by my 14-year-old stepkid: “I want to look at memes! This sucks!”