Based on the many recommendations and the word of people who have read a lot more chick lit than I have, I now realize that there are plenty of chick lit novels out there that don’t feature stupid, broke-ass conspicuous consumer heroines. I gladly concede that I was talking out of my ass on that issue, and that I just had a streak of bad luck in my initial choice of chick lit reads. (And hey, like I said, it took me SIX YEARS before I found a romance novel I loved.) Thanks to all of you who recommended lists of books for me to try, by the way. My TBR shelves, on the other hand, are cussing you out soundly—seriously, they’re even calling your MOTHER names, that’s how rude they are—for consigning them to carry even more weight. (And speaking of my TBR shelves: I just noticed the other day that they’re actually curving from the weight of the books. What the hell?!? My shelves are now medium-density fiberboard versions of Deenie, only without the masturbation and… wait, it does hold books featuring masturbation. Help, the ghost of a Judy Blume novel has possessed my bookshelves!)
One thing, though: For those of you who think that I hate all chick lit, that I think all chick lit is stupid, that romance is somehow a far superior genre (which, given the endless, tiresome bitching I indulge in about this particular genre, is a truly odd conclusion to draw), or that I’m even somehow trying to dissuade people from reading chick lit by bashing it—you seriously have the wrong end of the stick. I’m not even trying to dissuade MYSELF from reading the genre. Re-read the rant. Pay close attention to the disclaimer. Please. Will nobody think of the poor, lonely little disclaimer?
OK. Back to bashing only romances for a while—that is, until I read and review the first chick lit book I don’t like for the site. I might very well get “666” tattooed on the back of my head just for that blessed occasion. It’ll only confirm what some chick lit readers/writers already think about me, anyway, hee!