Nah, it’s not that bad. It’s so non-bad I don’t even care enough to get worked up about it. I’ll read something that angers me. Of course, I’ll read anything that fascinates me, intrigues me, makes me feel happy or sad or romantic…basically, anything that evokes any kind of emotion in me. 50 Shades of Grey just bored the hell out of me. As the writer of Revelation put it: So, because you are lukewarm – neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth (3:16).

Just to be honest here: I only read 50 pages. But then again, I gave it 50 pages, which seems fair as most literary agents have turned down my book with far less pages.

Am I jealous, then? Maybe. I know my book is good. It has well developed characters and a great storyline and still at least a dozen agents have turned me down. One even sent me an e-book with tips on how to be a better writer. I have to admit, the gesture was nice and at least I got something out of the deal, but do they really think I’m that bad? Seriously, is my work worse than 50 Shades of Grey? Some agent somewhere actually looked at that book and thought it was good enough to publish, but my book just get tossed in the out-box? So, yes, I’m jealous. But I’m also slightly disheartened. If I believe my book is good and 50 Shades of Grey isn’t, and that books gets published and mine not, then I’m definitely missing something here. Something important. It’s like the picture my mother-in-law sent to the family on whatsapp last night. It’s a picture of Jacob Zuma being given a Springbok rugby blazer and a caption about balls. I know it’s supposed to be funny and I can even guess at what they were talking about, but I just didn’t get it. I still don’t and hubby explained it to me!

Okay, enough whining and getting back to the book I took upon myself to read. It’s bad. It’s boring. It took me two weeks to convince myself to start it and 50 pages to realise I just don’t care about finishing it. Ever. At all. I took a gander at it, and ended up feeling ‘nah’ about it. Now I know it hurts whenever someone disses something you’ve spent a long time on, and a very large part of the world has been dissing ms. James. I’m truly sorry for her. But then again: she did make a lot of money from it, so I suppose that softens the blows somewhat.

Bunny love

Oh, just as a last note: I see the fanfiction title for the book was Master of the Universe. Has someone told the woman that’s He-Man, not Twilight? But I have to admit that her inline name is awesome!

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