Ding Dong, the WHAT is dead?!

(WARNING: This is not a happy blog post. i’m pissed off. Very pissed off. Woke up on a cold rainy day and there's no hot water in the geezer pissed off! Grrrrr)

This morning, over my usual giant pink cup of coffee, i made the mistake of clicking on a blog post re-tweated on my flipboard before rubbing the make-up-residue sleep out of my eyes. My punishment was to read yet another rant by some hater that ‘Chick Lit’ is dead. This statement baffles me. i do not understand people who, when they don’t like something, call it dead. Rock is dead; Tell that to Korn, or Steven Tyler who just never says die or Keith Richards who i’m pretty sure never will die. Cassette tapes are dead; Tell that to Nigeria. 

Advertising is dead; Really? Tell that to my Apple MacBook, iPad, iPod and iPhone – all purchased with the sub-conscious burning desire to be as cool and confident and creative as the subliminal messages suggested to me, hell, deeply ingrained into me over all those years of watching Sex and the City. Elvis is dead; (ok, gotta agree with that one…) God is dead; TELL THAT TO MY MOTHER! The Printed Word is dead; Oh just shut the fluff up and go back to your wii or what ever it is you losers do with your time now.

Here’s a lesson in good manners and general socially acceptable and amiable behavior by Cherry Blossom: When you don’t like something, say “This is not to my taste”, not “Chick lit is dead”. You may not enjoy reading it, but you are one little (probably horribly morbid, boring, self obsessed and oh-so-drab) person. There are 7 billion people on this planet, and amongst them, yes, i think its safe to say that there are still chick lit fans who find chick lit to be very much alive. HUGE numbers of chick lit fans in fact. Gaggles and flocks and clusters of droves of schools of chick lit fans. Myself being one of them.

But let me not get ahead of myself here. i do understand where some of the hating is coming from as i too have had the misfortune to read a few of those chick lit books that would put anyone off. Truly awful instances of (and total embarrassments to) my favorite genre. But lets remember that there are many examples in this world of good versions and bad versions of EVERYTHING. You can get a great cup of coffee (VIDA, Nespresso), and you can get something dark and liquidy-like with floating black lumps and a slight scum? round the rim of the mug. You can get Mom’s home roasted chicken with thick steaming gravy and crispy golden potatoes, and you can get a soggy chicken burger with putrid dripping chips at a non-disclosed establishment. There are gorgeous red-heads and, well, the rest of us. You get lovely genuine blondes and real bitches, fabulous brunettes and color-blind, anti-human-hygiene specimens , princes and frogs. And you get good books, and bad books in ALL genre's.

When i say ‘Chick Lit’ and talk about aspiring to write in the genre, i am NOT talking about soppy romance novels. i'm referring to books such as Anne of Green Gables, The Devil Wears Prada, Emma, Twenties Girl, Far From The Madding Crowd and Confessions of a Shopaholic. My definition may not fit in with the usual norm, but when i say Chick Lit, i mean literature that takes a real woman, real life, interesting characters, the ridiculousness of every day that we are on this planet and smooshes it all into a light hearted account that makes you want to laugh, cry, rave about and sometimes throw things. But mostly laugh. 

It’s the book that leaves a character in your heart because you really feel where they were coming from by the end of it, even if you are nothing like them at all, and they actually don’t exist. (Have you ever cried at the end of a book because you realize you are going to miss the fictional character in it? i have.) It’s the book that makes you root for the little people. The one you find yourself snorting out loud to, mortifying yourself, while sitting in public places waiting for modes of transportation. It’s the one that leaves you with a sense of happiness that something in this life turned out well, and general warm fuzzies thanks to all the laughing. And it is the Charles Dickens of genius constructed characterizations – where the situation IS just that darn funny because you KNOW people EXACTLY like that, and secretly laugh at them behind their backs all the time.

 Or maybe its just me.

 So if you don’t like chick lit and one day post on your haters blog about my new book, to you i say: You are simply not my target market. (oh, and do the world a favor, grow up, stop taking yourself so seriously, and at least TRY to get a sense of humor.)

But i guess no one is perfect. i’m a writer after all, and sometimes come hell or high water i simply can’t construct a sentence (or blog post) to say what i am trying to say. Heck, i can’t even spell! (Thank the lucky-Buddha for spellcheck and literary editors!)

But at least i have good manners.

Love, lust and fairy-star-dust

Cherry Blossom