May. 30th, 2008

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So I finished Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story, which was grotesquely overrated, unfunny and generally stupid. It's about a pretentious loser of a wannabe writer, Tommy, and his vampire girlfriend Jody. 

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Apparently the Anita Blake series started off interesting and slid into porn. For example, an Amazon reviewer savages Narcissus in Chains, a midstream book in the series, as follows: "This book brings in a new character, the male Nimir-Raj of another were-leopard pack, with whom Anita immediately has sex. And there's mental sex, virtual sex, interspecies sex... it gets downright tiresome. You never knew sex could be this boring." HAH!

Maybe I should go back and read some of the earlier books in the series? I keep confusing them with Nancy Collins' Sonja Blue series, which memorably has vampire protagonist at odds with her vampirism, personified as a sleek and crazy killer that squats in her mind and talks to her under its breath. I would reread Collins again just for Sonja's internal dialogs.
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I zipped through Innocence by Jane Mendelsohn, a metaphor-drugged story about Beckett, a young teen girl who grieves the death of her mother. When her father marries the school nurse and Beckett gets her horribly painful period, she suspects sinister and blood-related hunger lurking beneath the surface of her new stepmother. Eventually Beckett determines that her new stepmom is out for blood and that she, Beckett, is the Last Girl of the horror films, who must either confront the monster or become its culminating victim.

As you can see by the reviews on Amazon, this book is either a work of transcendent genius or a piece of unreadable, pretentious fluff, depending on the perspective of the reader. I personally liked it.

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