We always knew this day was coming.
First and foremost comes the Selection series by none other than Kiera Cass.
In short: America Singer, the singer (no, really), is Selected to compete against thirty five other girls for the heart of the prince in a dystopian United States.
I’ve read my fair share of bad books. I know what it is that makes books wholly unsatisfactory or what it is that makes them only somewhat dreadful. I know much better than I’d care to, in fact. Based on that, I have to say that the Selection series is not a very good one.
These books have close to no plot, faulty character development, and I very honestly can’t find anything to praise about it without sounding disgustingly feeble in my efforts.
And yet, somehow I still ate up every one of these books in a matter of a sitting or so.
No, I didn’t particularly care who would win the Selection. I most certainly didn’t care who’d win the little love triangle. The Selected quite literally sat in a room until the prince would come and snog one of them, which infuriated me. The characters were all stereotypes and the storyline was anything but unique.
I’m as baffled as to why I like it as I assume you are, dear reader.
I love it, though.
I couldn’t, of course, have this wee compilation here without the Scarlet trilogy.
In short: Scarlet is a girl masquerading as one of Robin Hood’s men to escape her mysterious past and, as fictional young ladies tend to, falls in love with several guys at once.
Yikes, huh? I see now that maybe I should have read that description over a few more times before I decided to read the books.
The writing in this book is nauseating. Even though I admittedly enjoyed all three books to a certain extent, it’s kind of painful to read.
It seems that every now and then, I need a dull book with a pitiful historical setting and a love triangle that is essentially the entire plot to… well, amuse me.
This shouldn’t be surprising to see on this list. In fact, I love City of Bones. It’s oh-so-clichéd and and gets hilariously inconceivable at points (quite a few points, come to think of it), but I am simply smitten with the book.
In short: Clary Fray sees a murder and befriends the murderers sooner than later. Adventure pursues.
With this book, I think it may very well be the banter that kept me from becoming the sophisticated book reviewer that is my alter ego (Don’t laugh. I’m divinely sophisticated, hadn’t you noticed?). Goodness, the banter.
Banter of any kind is my bookish Achilles heel.
Nothing really is truly spectacular about City of Bones. It’s one of those stupid fun books.
But, golly, it’s just so darned stupid and fun, for a stupid and fun book.
Every cutesy Kasie West contemporary there is drags me down, every time.
In short: Girl meets boy. They’re adorable. Angst happens. Love happens, too.
The stories are so simple, and while that infuriates the tiny little intellectual part of my mind, these books are just so darned squishy! The characters started out complex and adorable and became less so with every book, but I still love them to the moon and back.
I think I’m actually beginning to morph into a fan of contemporaries, even if I only can stomach about ten of them.
Plus, I can’t help but admire that Kasie West and her publisher have mastered the art of don’t judge a book by its cover, no, really, I swear it’s good.
Lastly, there’s this little duology.
In short: Lara Jean writes love letters; they’re mailed to every boy she’s ever been infatuated with under mysterious circumstances; lots of embarrassment happens; love does, too.
Ms. Lara Jean Covey isn’t a particularly level-headed individual. She has a flare for most all things overly dramatic and flashy. I, personally, can’t relate to her one bit.
I think, though, that’s why she’s such a great character.
She’s all these things I tend to dislike in humans, in general, but she pulls it off in such a dignified, unpretentious way.
Of course, Kitty and Jamie Fox-Pickles are my favorite bits of the books, but that’s beside the point.
Bonus: I hate Peter so much that I love him, too.
Oh goodness, dear reader, all the banter in these books.
I kills me (in the best possible way)!
That’s about it, thank goodness. I’ll get back to you the next time I read some books that are terribly fantastic.
…And we all know there’ll be a next time.