Hi World - 3am and I'm sitting on the floor of my room wondering why the fudge I'm not asleep - and the only answer I can come up with is, "there's not enough hours in the day". True story.
I've recently read the much hyped about "Fifty Shades of Grey" Trilogy by Erika Leonard, pseudonym E. L. James. Getting through the first chapter alone was a mission for me - I had to fight the urge at every line to simply shut the book, and close it up in some dark hole for all eternity - after I made it alive past the first book, I decided to move onto the following book to satiate my curiosity and see where this Twilight-style saga led...my poor mind kept having trouble wrapping itself around the cloying cheesiness of it all (intelligent, handsome, untouchable billionaire with deep emotional problems and masochistic tendencies falls for the quiet, naive, mousy girl who he eventually cannot live without because she frees him from his inner demons with her pure, undying love - all in a space of less than three weeks).
And I sat there, incredulously, throughout all one-hundred and fifty shades, wondering, "this is on the world's best seller lists?!" Where has the culture of good writing been banished to? At first I simply could not understand the obsession that women the world over had for this book, but I slowly began to realise that the pages and pages of mediocre writing, tacky clichés, soft porn and,quite frankly, overkill baseline plot represented one thing that every woman wants out of life: more.
It's that need for more out of life than a single-minded career or some compromise relationship. Every woman, even us ambitious and independent ones, all want that elusive, "something more". The hearts and the flowers and the corny pet names, and the one guy who is willing to turn his whole life upside down and topsy turvy - to do just about anything to put a smile on her face, a kink in her day, a spring in her step and keep the big, bad world at bay.
THAT, is the reason why this rather glorified Mills & Boons is so popular among the female population of the world - and also the reason why, despite my appal at the uninspired use of words and unimaginative writing, not to forget the sketchy grammar and road-kill of catchphrases, I read the Trilogy from beginning to end.
It's one-hundred and fifty shades of fucked up - but also, one-hundred and fifty shades of More.
I couldn't have said it better myself. The heroine is like a pair of "pants" that fits every type of women. We cant imagine anyone but ourselves in that situation.
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