On impulse, I picked up Claimed by J.R. Ward. It was by a best selling author, and she had graduated from Smith College; it couldn’t be that bad, right?
Let me give you the briefest sample of her writing:
“As she continued to mutter while staring at the barn, he tapped on her shoulder. When she finally looked away from the newscaster and cameraman, he took Lydia’s hand to make sure she paid attention.
“What did they do to you.” He put his palm up as she opened her mouth. “No, you don’t fucking lie to me. You brought me into this. You don’t get to start editing the story now.”
Her eyes went back to the barn, her brows down, her lips in a tight line. As a breeze came up her ponytail was swept in his direction and he caught a whiff of her shampoo.”
Okay, let’s forget about the fact that there is not a vocabulary word in the entire 200+ pages I’ve read that a third grader wouldn’t know. Let’s even forget about the fact that there are at least two grammar errors in as many paragraphs. Dependent clauses, compound sentences, omission of ending punctuation marks be damned.
What really troubles me is that it is all so trite. What I’ve read is absolutely meaningless! The characters lie, swear, futilely joke with each other, break into another’s home, and essentially do nothing of any interest to me whatsoever. So, I’m abandoning this brief foray into a genre by an author I’ll never be tempted to pick up again.
Even if she does have 88.2K followers on Instagram with “F**k is a comma” in her profile. That’s the best you can come up with?
I’ll be back in a day or so with thoughts on more books listed for the International Booker Prize 2025. What a joy that will be.
