The thing about books

I love reading. I usually like a book better than the movie version because there is so much more depth and you're not limited to a two hour run time to develop characters and play out the entire plot. You can picture things the way your mind wants to, instead of having someone else's vision unfold on the screen. This being said, there are certain things about movies that I prefer. If it's a bad movie, it means I've only lost 90 minutes to three hours of my life, tops. It's still time, but not nearly as much that gets wasted when I read a book. I've started giving up on books, but I try to give them a chance. If it's marginally good, I might hold on till the end, in hopes that it will get better. I'm a tough critic, I know. Sometimes the plot picks up and it's enjoyable. Sometimes, I'm wrong and the book sucks.

I picked up Sistah Souljah's "The Coldest Winter Ever" from the library. Well there's a start--it is free so at least there's no money invested. The cover is kind of icky looking but don't judge a book, right? The first page threw me. Specifically, the line "I came busting out of my momma's big coochie on..."

I mean do I need to continue? Give up or press on? Does any real human being actually talk like that when describing her own birthday? Between this and my commentary on certain movies, maybe I'm not as open minded as I'd like to think I am.

Out of over a thousand reviews, there are none in the one and two star categories on Amazon. I have friends that liked the book. I want to give it a chance, but I don't know if I can stick it out for the three hundred plus pages I have left to read.

1 comment:

Micki said...

So, um. Did you read it?