An electronic book and an execrable* book

Kindle Kindle Kindle, I got you yesterday; Kindle Kindle Kindle, with Kindle I shall play!

As ‘most everyone knows (at least, those who have spent longer than 36.8 seconds in my company), I am a diehard bookworm.  “Eclectic” doesn’t even begin to describe my tastes; my favorite authors include James Herriott, Tom Clancy, Pearl S. Buck, Sharon Shinn, Anne Bishop, Robert A. Heinlein, Amy Tan and J.R.R. Tolkien.  I read Jane Austen and VC Andrews; James A. Michener and James Patterson; Orson Scott Card and George Orwell.  When going on vacation, I might grab “Give Me a Break” by John Stossel or “Gone With the Wind” by Margaret Mitchell (and it was the latter book that used “execrable” in such a way that I remembered it).  Yes, I own all the Harry Potters and the entire Little House series.  Traditionally, I read the way that most people watch TV: I can read a favorite book over and over again, and I read for the story and the characters, rather than the education.  (I’ve been trying to improve on that lately; we’ll see.)

With that being said, I am SOOOOOO IN LUUUUUUUUV with my new book-toy!!!  In the not-quite-24 hours since I’ve received it, I’ve already consumed “The Yellow Wallpaper,” “Animal Farm,” “The Puppet Masters,” one of the Oz books and one-quarter of “Cancel Your Own Goddam Subscription” by Bill Buckley.  True, it takes a little acclimation.  For example, there’s a black flash that lasts about a second whenever you turn a page; however, anyone who reads music knows the rhythm of turning a page before you reach the end of the measure.  Mostly, I’m pleased that I can read big hefty books without having to use both hands   (Although, I obviously can’t replace all the hardcovers in my current library, due both to cost and availability; so thanks Jenny for my book pyramid-pillow!)  And NEVER AGAIN WILL I GET STUCK DREARILY PERUSING AN AIRPORT BOOKSHOP!  YAY!!!!

And now for a horse of a different color:

The last time I got stuck without a book was on our Caribbean cruise.  (Cue the chorus:  “Pooooooor Liiiiiiissa!”  Sotto voce: “Spoiled bitch.”)  I therefore ended up reading what is possibly the worst book known to Man or Woman.  Lest you escape with your literature-stomach intact, I shall proceed to briefly review it for you.

A BEND IN THE ROAD, by Nicholas Sparks.  SPOILER ALERT!  SPOILER ALERT!!!!

Good God, did this book suck.  I’d never have picked it up to begin with except 1) the ship library was REALLY limited, 2) it was a paperback and therefore light enough to read while suntanning (yay Kindle!!), 3) I received a copy of some Sparks book as a present and never got around to reading it; I figured this would introduce me.  I’m so, so grateful that I didn’t pay any money for A Bend in the Road; also that it was short (it didn’t torture me longer than two pool sessions).  Without having the book in front of me, let me run down the plot for you:

A nice, handsome policeman (Miles Ryan) lost his wife and high school sweetheart (Missy) in a mysterious hit-and-run two years ago.  His nice, sweet son (Jonah) is having trouble in school.  The new, nice, sweet, pretty teacher (Sarah Andrews) offers to help Jonah and is delicately attracted to Miles, who is (awkwardly) attracted in return, though he doesn’t know how to handle it.  The book is introduced and interpolated with a mysterious narration in italics; the author, it turns out, is the PERSON WHO KILLED MISSY OH MY GOD.  This anonymous killer is telling us the story, you see, since he is connected to all these lives in ways no one could predict.  The killer also lets slip that 1) it’s years later, 2) he’s married. 

Anyone puking yet?  No?  Okay, I’ll continue.

The book doesn’t give us a lot of characters to work with, so either we have no chance to identify the killer, or we have a pretty good shot of guessing by flipping a coin.  If it’s the latter, our job is made even easier by the fact that the killer has told us he’s a guy.  Wonder of wonders, we are introduced to Sarah’s brother Brian, who has in the last two years had trouble in school, looked old, developed a nervous tic and lines in his face.  And gee, if it were BRIAN that killed Missy, wouldn’t that just suck?  Wouldn’t that totally throw a wrench into Miles’ and Sarah’s budding romance?

Gag me with a spoon.  Not only is it reeeeeeeally easy to figure out whodunnit (and I’m not exactly Sherlock Holmes when it comes to novels, y’all) but we know that Brian doesn’t get killed in revenge, or go to jail, or anything, BECAUSE HE’S ALREADY TOLD US HE’S WRITING AT HOME WHILE HIS WIFE IS ASLEEP.  Tack on nauseatingly shallow description meant to be touching (my god, Sarah’s ex-husband is getting re-married; she decides to have TWO WHOLE GLASSES OF WINE, BY HERSELF, only to drop the bottle, which tragically shatters, which cuts her finger, which makes her cry) and Miles’ quiet-but-manly strength to contrast so well with the arrogant ex-husband, and I give this novel a rousing Four Hairballs.

Fleh.  If you’re going for sappy romances, I swear you’re better off with VC Andrews.  At least those books aren’t regarded as GOOD romances.

Anyone disagree?  Do you have your own nomination for The Worst Novel Ever?  Leave your suggestions in the comments!

*For those curious about “execrable”: Rhett is informing Scarlett of the terms of their upcoming marriage; he lets her know that she can have all the money she wants for fal-lals but HE’S going to pick them out, because “you have such execrable taste in jewelry, my pet.”  Now THAT’S a good romance (assuming you can ignore all the despicable justification of the ante bellum South).