I should have gotten the hint that I wouldn't enjoy this novel by its title: The Twitter Diaries.
I don't even 'Tweet!!' I mean, I've attempted it and I do have a twitter account but bugger me.... what a load of #!@.
I love a good chick-lit - but can we just emphasize the word 'good' here please!?
This book intrigued me because I had this idea not so long ago to put my latest novel in complete email format. I went into a local bookstore in town and told the guy behind the counter my idea, asking him if he could recommend any books with a similar style so that I could study it.
This was the recommendation.
I am one of those people that have to finish what they start... no matter how torturous it may be.
To me, this book was the biggest waste of my time and especially nearing the end of it I was literally craving something of more substance. Something nourishing for my soul.
I got no messages in this novel. Not one... and I need to feel uplifted and feel like I've gained something from a book I've spent my time on. This however was pointless and boring and just urgh. I would rather gouge my own eyes out than have to read it again.
OK - if this wasn't enough for you to basically take a pre-warning and not waste your time... let me tell you what it is about:
Two women who are a part of the elite world, one in London and one in New York City. They meet at a party one evening by introduction from a mutual friend. Since the party they start 'following' each other on Twitter and DM (Direct-Message for you guys who like me, have no clue what abbreviations for the Twitter world are!!!!) each other.
The book goes through a year of their conversations, a month at a time. Each month they set different goals that concerns whatever it is that they are going through at that time. They are also absolutely obsessed with how many followers they have and actually sometimes count other people's followers.
The mutual friend who introduced them is OBSESSED with his following count. Are people really like that???? I just don't get it.
It is just sad. Sad, sad, sad.
I'm about to start a book called The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Anyone read that???? I'd love to get your thoughts on it before I crack open the spine and begin reading! Just in case!
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