Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Sparks Fly...and Eyes Roll : Jordyn vs. Nicholas Sparks

In the time between high school and now, I have come to loathe Nicholas Sparks. LOATHE. And because of this, my dear, dear "friend" Andrew has challenged me to watch all six Nicholas Sparks film adaptations. I have seen two (A Walk to Remember and The Notebook) but the rest I've successfully avoided...until now. In each loving review, I will express exactly why I dislike Nicholas Sparks' certain what the French and hormone addled youth call...I don't know what.




Here's a little known fact in my internet life: once upon a time, I wanted to become a historical romance novelist. Yes, picture in your mind one of those drugstore staples, where Fabio or Sergio or some other mononym male model, with his perfectly sculpted tan chest and flowing golden mullet, embraces a nymph of exceptional beauty who has an equally beautiful chest and head of hair. As he holds her in the rippling vise of his biceps, she swoons and an orgasm overtakes her and her neckline threatens to reveal her pert nipples.




Yeah, those.

I happen to like those. And no, I'm not ashamed of my past. In fact, I've learned lots from them...but that's a different story for a different day. The point is, I loved romance novels and while in high school, got piles upon piles of shit for reading such tripe. Still, I went on reading exactly what I wanted.

It was around this time that other people started nosing their way into my reading habits. My best friend Ashley's grandmother suggested a little novel called "The Notebook" by Nicholas Sparks. Even though some grandmothers read romance novels (like my 101 year old one), I knew that Ashley's grandmother was a little bit more prude, so I asked for a synopsis. I was not impressed.

In high school, things just got worse. The girls in my class started reading Nicholas Sparks books and feeling superior to me. With the tragic endings and teenage characters and cancer patients, those books were more important, damn it! What I read was "perverted" due to many a purple prose sex scene. But seriously now, why in the hell would you not want to read about your favorite characters gettin' it on? (Just a mystery of life, I guess).


So anyway, I hate Nicholas Sparks. Almost to a point where I can't really form coherent arguments and I end up sounding like an ignorant chump jealous of his success. (Not that I am or anything). This blog series will hopefully allow me to finally express my merited disdain for this over-hyped author. I will not be discussing acting, directing, music, art direction, costumes, etc. This will solely be a bitchfest about STORY.
 So sit back, grab a tissue box, barf bag, hit of X, bottle of tequila, rosary or whatever it is you may need to get through the next few weeks because I'm telling you, it won't be easy.


Also, because I'm just as evil as my comrade, Andrew, he will be reviewing six of Tyler Perry's Madea movies over at Diversion 2.0.




Note: No, I am not reading the books because I would like to live to see my next birthday. And if you're going to get snarky and say..."Oooh...if you don't read the books, you're not getting the full experience." I say "Bullshit. If it weren't for the movies, the thirteen year old girls of America wouldn't be picking up his paperbacks at Wal-Mart!"

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