Now ladies, as you know I am generally opposed to using the word abortion. It’s divisive and graphic, and it just invites unwelcome inquiries into the political views of our little book club. But I must say, it’s really the only word to describe this month’s selection – an absolute abortion.
Gemma, sit down. Do not leave this room. I know you picked the book and you thought we would like it, but we all know that you’ve been under a great deal of stress at work lately, and we probably shouldn’t have allowed you to make such an important decision while trying to complete the Baines merger and potty train an anal retentive toddler at the same time. So, really, it’s not your fault.
We are all smart ladies. And this book is derisive of intelligent women and all they stand for. It basically boils the romance formula down to its most reductive elements and expects us to tolerate it because of our affection for the genre. It’s no surprise it’s written by a 23-year old man – my stepson is 23 and he doesn’t know a single thing about love and passion, except where his X-Box is involved. What, because we don’t have DAY JOBS we’re expected to eat up this romantic slop with no complaints? This type of authorial aggression cannot stand.
So here is the plan – the standard letter writing campaign to the publisher begins tomorrow and lasts 5 weeks, then we move onto stealing copies from Walmarts and burning them on our grills. This time, I think we should up the ante and make it personal. Let’s figure out if we know anyone in common with this “Jeremy Standskill,” if that’s even his real name, and start to infiltrate his social network. We cannot allow Mr. Standskill to ever again defame the romance genre like this. I think my mother-in-law’s podiatrist may know his mother’s gardener. We’ll start there.
Do we even have to vote on this?