I'd rather be dating...

Ok...so, enough with the bad dates. Now it's time to acknowledge that not all books are good. In fact, some books are so bad that I'd rather be held hostage in a nutjob's house or explaining about my alien implant that curled up on the couch reading.

So, what book brings this out in me most? Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons by Lorna Landvik. I hated every minute of this book, and it is the singular reason why I will never again be in a book club.

The book takes place in suburban Minneapolis and features a handful of women who live on a cul de sac together and, frankly, are probably the most annoying women ever. I would move out of the neighborhood if these women were near me. The women are all predictable, trite characters. I didn't want to be friends with a single one of them. Honestly, I just wanted the damn book to end.

I guess the thread that ties the book together is that these women have created their own little book club. Each chapter features the title of a book they'd allegedly read. The thing is, none of them ever mention a single book, there is no book discussion. It's a structural technique that never, ever gains traction. In fact, I think it is a lame conceit for one of the big scenes, where the women are having book club and one of them goes into labor.

There is nothing interesting about these womens' lives. One woman is so astoundingly passive in her abusive marriage that she decides hiding food in her hairstyles is the way she's getting back at ther husband. Yeah, I don't know. Is it supposed to be funny? Instructional? Inspiring? It's nothing but dumb and disempowering.

I had a profound visceral reaction to reading this book. I hated every page. I wanted to rip them out of the book and destroy every word. When it came out in paperback a while back, I cringed when I saw the displays. I wanted to burn every last cover. It's the most offensive book I've ever read -- offensive because it wasted my time.

I am actually the only person I know who has reacted so violently to this book. Some people I know have liked it, the balance have tolerated it. Personally, I think the book is grounds for ending Landvik's writing career.

It was also the last book club book I ever read. I was in the club for six months. I was pretty much the only one who read any of the books. One woman even shared that she didn't even like reading at all.

That was the joining the meetings anymore because it wasn't working for me. And, frankly, it was probaly the most healthy breakup I ever had. I simply said I wouldn't be attending any more meetings. Usually "breaking up" consists of me just never answering the phone again until the calls stop. Then again, none of those men ever made me read this sucky book.