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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Serials and Spoofarios ~ You Don't Deserve Me, Loser ~ Reviewed



This spoof-e-view series is dedicated to a very pregnant friend who wants to live vicariously through mean-spirited reviews and bizarre interviews. She's moved from begging to weeping and I do not want her to try to bribe me with one of her children. My integrity can obviously be tweaked.

Readers, today, I make an exception to my normal rule of thumb. My mother raised me with Thumper's mother's admonition. "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." Nice in theory, but then I entered the world of 'words for sale' and the land of critique groups. Book reviews were the next step. I've learned the art of Samurai Wordfare, but I've always hesitated to get mean. After all, taste in literature (or toilet paper for that matter) is extremely subjective. So, I've made a point to not say anything at all if I can't at least say something positive, too. Until today. Today, I'm jamming Thumper's mother on a spit and slathering her in barbecue sauce. (Figuratively, of course.)

You Don't Deserve Me, Loser
Shal Lowell
Spoofara Publishing under the Gaga Growth Publishing Giant

Let me start by expressing my relief that I can spare you, dear, innocent reader from the travesty I'm about to dissect. I took one for the team and let me tell you, the nightmares are still bone-chilling, though the incessant chattering of my teeth and the weeping have subsided to a tolerable level. If you can't believe the book "You Don't Deserve Me, Loser" is as awful as I lay out in this review, come back tomorrow. Ms. Lowell answered the questions which totally confirmed my decision to be brutal in this review.

I've read hundreds of books. I have yet to encounter one that even comes close to "Deserve" which is a bizarre meld of chick-lit, lad-lit (yes, you are reading this correctly) horror and self-help with an underlying sense of responsibility shirking on the part of the author.

Often, I've scanned reviews of books that I've read and I wondered if the reviewer was talking about the same book I reviewed. Huge facts are twisted or overlooked and completely taken from left field and then these issues become ranting points. That said, I did read this book, every horrid, slimy and hideous word. During the final five chapters I made a friend call me so I was forced to give her updates on where I was in the book and what I was reading about so I'd be accountable to finish. She is no longer my friend. I'm afraid I pushed her over the edge.

The only positive I can see in this tome is that it's under 250 pages. However, given the choice to undergo serious dental work without painkillers of any kind every day for a month sounds more appealing than rereading "Deserve."

Ms. Shal Lowell's career as a supermodel turned life coach has been summed up in "Deserve." Her voice is unique which is very, very good because it is similar to a pouting two-year-old post a temper tantrum that included fire, body fluids and screeches that reach a decibel that could steal the hearing in the range equal to that of a nuclear blast. Ms. Lowell's vocabulary is slightly beyond preschool. The overall experience of her book is somewhere between the hazy hovering on the edge of wakefulness after a horrific nightmare and a very, very bad LSD flashback. In her collection of random "helpful hints," chick-lit style shopping excursions, lad-lit drinking bashes and parent/government/the man blaming, she slides in snippets of poetry.

Warning. Reading this sample may cause nausea and shortness of breath. You may want to check with your doctor first.

Your lips.
I hate them. The jiggle when I yell at you and you start to cry baby. CRY!
The dried spit crust at the corners when you yammer.
Most of all I hate your words.
You tell me about YOUR day.
YOUR DAY?!? Whatever.
Listen to ME!
I hate your lips.


Some books reach literary Nirvana in that they become nearly seamless. A mesh of characters, word-smithery, scenes that steal the breath of the reader and transport them to another time or another place. Themes that shine brightly like a brilliant sun peeking through leaves on a breezy day, casting an ever-changing trail of light for the reader to follow. Now those are books. Books that make me want to be a better person.

"You Don't Deserve Me, Loser" made me want to be a better mole. Why? Because moles can't see to read.

Finally, I need to suggest what type of reader would appreciate "Deserve." I do believe that everyone is entitled to their own opinion and our constitution grants us the right to share said opinion. I propose that Ms. Lowell's book would best serve society by making it a mandatory read in all prisons. I promise that if this was to be the case, re-offenders would be no more.

There are no links. I don't want you to accidentally click on something that could possibly ruin your life.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Kelly,
I love this! I love the poem. I want to read this book. It sounds great. Why do you bash it so? Why would someone you know want you to intentionally be mean-spirited? That is soooooooooo not right. That poem has inspired me. I can now get through my day. It brought a smile to my lips. Thanks for sharing.
Xta

Kim said...

Kelly -
YOU ROCK!!! Brutally honest, and based on your brief example, I imagine I'd agree.

Remind me not to get on your bad side!

(shove Thumper's mother on a spit?----WHOA!!)

Kim

Kim said...

P.S.
I picked up a book yesterday that may get a similar review from me. I hope it was just a bad mood or something. I'm going to read something else and try again.

Yesterday I couldn't get more than 30 pages in and I hated those 30 pages.

Kim

Kelly Klepfer said...

Xta. What can I say? I love my edgy, inappropriate, pregnant friend...if I can offer her some comfort in the 90 degree temps, I'm pretty sure the world is a safer place. : )

And Kim, don't try this at home. Feel free to borrow the slam-spoof idea anytime you need to vent, but I would always remember little Thumper's mother, with a glaze, browning over an open flame and know that our words can come back and flame us. : )

That said, I did ask you for the info on the real book that you are reading -- off the record, of course -- at your humble little house o' reviews.