Fuel: Yellowglen’s Pink (with much thanks to Miss T who knows what I like). Marketed as a seriously girly, bubbly thing – I’ll readily admit I love its strawberry flavours and its spunk. It’s just on the border of a-touch-too-sweet, but never crosses it. Ah!
On to the gripe:
I’m sure I was more or less the last person to hear about the book One Day, only this autumn – I haven’t been following book news since I discovered Pratchett, Murakami and Stroud a few years back and have been busy reading everything they have produced (which, in the case of Pratchett in particular, is not a little). I only really heard about the book when I heard about the movie that was coming out, and like a true bibliophile, I will always rather read the book. My imagination is heaps better than anything Hollywood (or any other place, for that matter) can come up with. I did struggle slightly with the fact that, after having read that Emma was being played by Anne Hathaway, and I know what Anne Hathaway looks like, my mental image of Emma looked slightly like Anne Hathaway. This I could live with. David Nicholls, on the other hand, I could not. Oh, and nor could Emma.
You know the thing David Nicholls did in Cold Feet, where he went and killed Rachel for no good reason? He does the same thing in One Day. Yes, people (the 12 of you who have not read the book or seen the movie), Emma dies. About four fifths through the book.
Because that’s what David Nicholls does. Stupid, stupid, misogynistic, one-trick-pony David Nicholls. No great woman shall live! I shall shake you all to the core with this one turn of events I have been able to come up with! Ha ha! I shall create a character you really like and then kill off her for no reason, because life is shit and you should not become attached to anything! Ha ha! Look what I did there! *David Nicholls chuckles*
I have no idea what the remaining 1/5 of the book was about, since I cannot imagine anyone being particularly interested in what happened to the self-centred boring whatsisname who was apparently considered the other central character in the book.
Did I just ruin the book for you? Good. Thou shalt not spend money on it. It’s enough that I did. (And I shall be getting rid of said book through bookcrossing.com. Bwahaha! It will be somebody else’s burden soon enough!)
Gawd. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me, or some such thing. There will not be a third time, Mr. Nicholls. Just stop hating great women, willya?
