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Just thinkin’

November 25, 2008

So I’m reading Hana-Kimi and I’m thinking to myself, Oh self, look at the guys in this book.  They’re just objects to the readers.  Then there was a lot of my brain trying to figure out what was the connection between Japan and objectifying men, until I realized: Oh shut up, we do it all the time here.

It’s called “romance novels,” and nowhere can you find men more like objects.  They are walking, talking, living, breathing, sexxin’ perfect objects, not existing in real life.  They are puppets on strings by the authors for mastubation material.

Oh don’t get me wrong, it’s not EVERY SINGLE STORY.  Of course not.  But the bad ones?  Puppets.  F*ckpuppets, if you will.  You’ll know them when you see them.  They have no interests, or just one interest (have you ever met anyone with only one interest? not someone you want to marry).  They have no friends or relatives, or just one friend who thinks the heroine is great, or a sister to be the heroine’s bff.  Come to think of it, those heroines don’t have much of a life either.

Not to always go back to Jenny Crusie, but she is my favorite romance writer.  Her heroines are completely tangled up in their families, the way real people are.  But there are other authors who write about families, and it’s just so hollow and weird.  I know I come from an unusual family situation (or it was at the time–my parents never married, I only got to know my dad after I was seven, and only saw my half-sister some of the time), but I’d like to think I can tell when a family’s written badly.

Oh, I was also thinking about blogging, and how blogging with a theme other than “my life” is pretty difficult.  Like I said before, if I were doing 365 books in 365 days or something?  No problem.  But I’m not, so I need time between posts.  Blogging every day will only work for me if I’ve got the time to do this stuff, but my daughter’s home now, and I’m trying to find home for the foster kitties, and I’m trying to finish up my writing lessons so I can work on my writing final, which–in case you were wondering–is a short story about a guy who’s deciding whether a somewhat flaky girl is worth dating.  Because he’s looking at the big picture, you see.  He likes her but he wants–oh, not The One but someone who’s wife material.  Can you see yourself for the rest of your life with someone who’s constantly late?  Argh.  I HATE being late.

Speaking of which, I should probably get to the second to last lesson.  I have to interview myself!  That’ll be fascinating.  I expect that there will be a lot of sarcastic “Wow, Prof (we’re supposed to pretend she’s the interviewer), that’s a FABULOUS question!”s.

Thus ends your randomy, stream-of-consciousness post today!

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