Tuesday, July 31, 2012

50 Shades of Red Flags

I recently was forced into reading that 50 Shades of Grey book because my cousin is a smart ass and used my own words against me. You can't talk shit about a book you haven't read. I say this often and it remains true. So I read it...in order to talk educated shit about it.

For those who don't know, the book is essentially the story of Twilight but with BDSM sex instead of vampires and a completely unsympathetic idiot for a narrator. Oh no wait, that's the same. Love you Bella <3

I don't really know what to say about the actual book. So I think I'll just let a few of my favorite excerpts speak for themselves. I need to stress, I am presenting these quotes EXACTLY as they are in the book. I have not edited them in any way. This is actually what is written.

His voice is warm and husky like dark melted chocolate fudge caramel...or something.
Or something. No need to come up with a real descriptor here.

He starts the engine and reverses out of his space in the parking lot. He switches on the MP3 player. The car interior is filled with the sweetest, most magical music of two women singing. Oh wow… all my senses are in disarray, so this is doubly affecting.
I can only imagine what the sweetest most magical music sounds like....

Christian pushes a button, and the music is caressing me once more. It’s a gentle, slow, sweet, and sure assault on my aural senses.
No comment.

I belatedly realize he’s not asked me where I live - yet he knows. But then he sent the books, of course he knows where I live. What able, cell-phone-tracking, helicopter owning, stalker wouldn’t.
Why won’t he kiss me again?
Um, perhaps we should work on sorting out your priorities....

Under Kate’s tireless and frankly intrusive instruction, my legs and underarms are shaved to perfection, my eyebrows plucked, and I am buffed all over. It has been a most unpleasant experience.
I'm concerned about your bathing habits on a normal day if this is odd to you.

“Do you know what you are doing?” I ask.
Quick lesson to all aspiring authors: not using contractions doesn't make you sound smart. It actually has the opposite effect.

“Are you impressed?”
“I’m awed, Christian.”
He smiles.
“Awed?” And for a brief moment, he’s his age again.
I nod.
“You’re just so… competent.”
“Why, thank you, Miss Steele,” he says politely.
I know I swoon when someone tells me how competent I am.

He hands me a pen.
“Aren’t you even going to read it?”
He frowns.
“Anastasia, you should always read anything you sign,” he admonishes me.
“Christian, what you fail to understand is that I wouldn’t talk about us to anyone, anyway. Even Kate. So it’s immaterial whether I sign an agreement or not. If it means so much to you, or your lawyer… whom you obviously talk to, then fine. I’ll sign.”
He gazes down at me, and he nods gravely.
“Fair point well made, Miss Steele.”
I lavishly sign on the dotted line of both copies
Agree to disagree, Christian. I can't even comment on the fact that she just signs it.

Beautiful. I flush with pleasure. Christian Grey thinks I’m beautiful. I knot my fingers together, staring at them hard, trying to conceal my goofy grin. Perhaps he’s near-sighted, my subconscious has reared her somnambulant head.
How many thesauruses do you think this woman owns? Caity says at least 7.

I can hardly contain the riotous feelings or is it hormones that rampage through my body.
Apparently punctuation is no longer a necessary thing in publications?
Gripping his upper arms, I feel his biceps, he’s surprisingly strong… muscular.
LOL I just can't....

I stretch out and open my eyes. It’s a beautiful May morning, Seattle at my feet. Wow, what a view. Beside me, Christian Grey is fast asleep. Wow, what a view.
You literally just said that.

I could gaze at him all day, but I have needs – bathroom needs.
I don't even have a smartass comment.

Oh this is so confusing. I have to try and categorize and analyze my feelings for Christian Grey. It’s an impossible task. I shake my head in defeat.
Well I mean, solid effort Ana. You spent a good 2 seconds on it.

He moves down my arms, then under them to my underarms washing gently. I’m so glad Kate insisted I shave.
Seriously, what is up with your hygiene???

I am in a sexual thrall to this man, and he doesn’t let me move.
I really don't think that's correct. It's....not even a proper sentence.

I’m soon lost in his kiss. He cradles my head, his tongue exploring my mouth, and I get a sense he’s expressing his gratitude – maybe – for my first blowjob? Whoa? 
Whoa? I'm using weird punctuation? Is this the proper response?

Aaaaand that's about as far as I got. I had to stop because I swear, I could feel my brain melting and slowly leaking out of my ears.

I have read so many reviews/talked to so many people about this book and the number one response I seem to be getting (aside from "I wanted to die while I read it") is, "If you can get past the bad writing, it's a really sweet story!" UM, IT'S A BOOK. Being well written isn't a luxury, it's a REQUIREMENT. When actors do not act well, they get mocked. When clothes aren't made well, they're thrown away. When people do their jobs badly, they are FIRED. Being an author is no different. There is so much good stuff out there, PLEASE for the love of God, do not read this shit.

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