I read a few excerpts and found myself fighting the urge to beat my monitor to pieces with a Louisville slugger.
The author and I write similarly, I think: like mouthy Californian girls who are trying to be funny, except that she hasn't found the magic of self-deprecation and dick jokes yet, and probably never will, now that she's rich.
She writes about romance like Ayn Rand writes about trains; as a cold, infallible object that you're too stupid to understand. I felt fucking insulted.
Let's examine this with some novice commentary:
"She hands me a security pass that has 'visitor' very firmly stamped on the front. I can’t help my smirk. Surely it’s obvious that I’m just visiting. I don’t fit in here at all. Nothing changes. I inwardly sigh."
Oh, woe is you, the victim of minor-league bureaucracy. God forbid they try to keep pedestrians from sneaking a piss in their bathroom when the security guards aren't looking.
"She arches her eyebrow as I stand self-consciously before her. I’m beginning to wish I’d borrowed one of Kate’s formal blazers rather than worn my navy-blue jacket. I have made an effort and worn my one and only skirt, my sensible brown knee-length boots, and a blue sweater. For me, this is smart."
No, this is stupid. This is a classic diamond-in-the-rough story with a cardboard naughty-puritan twist, isn't it? Should I start singing about the rain in Spain?
"To be honest, I prefer my own company, reading a classic British novel, curled up in a chair in the campus library."
Paddington Bear, I'm guessing. It can be condensed into a single page and is written with the vernacular of a toddler. Like you.
"So young—and attractive, very attractive. He’s tall, dressed in a fine gray suit, white shirt, and black tie with unruly dark copper-colored hair and intense, bright gray eyes that regard me shrewdly."Anybody here ever read My Immortal before?
Just don't even get me started on the sex scenes, the laughably unrealistic characters, and the exploitative, backwards nature of the whole damn concept. It's not real, James needs an editor, and I need a drink.