Chick Lit

December 12, 2008 at 7:09 PM 2 comments

photo provided by Studio 34 on Flickr

photo provided by Studio 34 on Flickr

I was riding the trolley the other day. I like riding the trolley despite how it barely moves along the roads (and how SEPTA barely moves you anywhere). I like it for the fact that it looks like what they thought space ships and modern travel looked like in 1970.  One thing that is hard not to notice while riding the trolley or the train, is that when it is dark or you are in the tunnel systems, you have a mirror reflection of yourself in the windows. Most vain riders really enjoy checking themselves out a few more times before exiting the vehicle. I don’t mind this, I find it quite entertaining to see what kind of faces people make at themselves. However, everything in moderation, grasshopper.

This girl gets on the trolley. She had heels, dress pants, and a suit jacket. I’m very enthusiastic that’s not me. She has her pink fingernails wedged in a book, holding her place, and she sits in front of me. Now, being the bookworm I so unfortunately am, not to mention, the Curious George of everything, I had to know what she was reading. Once I saw the abstract pattern of soft purples, yellows, and muted greens, with a pink handwritten font title of  “Unleashed…” something or other, I knew it had to be Chick Lit. The genre of writing I believe I hate more than the entire Manga genre and it’s atrocious section of Barnes & Noble. I despise the phrase so much, I will now refer to it as wastesofpaper, since that’s what they are.

At first, this all made sense to me. Yes, she wears heels every day at 8:20 am, of course she would be into that crud they call literature. Yes, her hair is curled, but it looks rather nappy, a bird’s nest piled on top of her head. I’m not saying I have a great head of hair at all times, but I don’t think that my hair is great, and I certainly don’t tossel it into different abstract piles while checking myself out. This, as you can see, is when I started getting annoyed.

The most popular female literature going on in modern times is these wastesofpaper. Adorned with pearls and pink sunglasses, holding martinis, and wearing every color of pumps on it’s covers, it has ever growing popularity. We can trace it’s origins back to the popularity of Sex & the City. Now, people can be into this, that’s their choice. I certainly don’t mind. What I do mind is how hard it is to think of a great female novel, enjoyed by both sexes. (That given, all Jane Austen books are thus null and void)

Ahab kills whales, Chicks go shopping

Ahab kills whales, Chicks go shopping

We have greats characters like Tom Sawyer, Holden Caulfield, and Captain Ahab, all created by male authors. There are so many striking stories that changed our lives, but home many of those stories were told through the eyes of a male? I now feel a duty to begin a novel that has a female protagonist, and will be read my males and females alike. I just don’t want the future looking back on my generation’s literary interests to say “Oh yeah, the girls were really into Chick Lit.” Because I’m not.

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