Chelsea M. Cameron

Well, this is certainly a book people are going to come into with preconceptions.

As for me, I’m not queer—I do think there should be a gender-neutral word which means gay or lesbian, etc—but I’m also not a specialist. I mean, if you read my catalog, you might think I was a Regency landowner or something, which would almost be weird, you know. (I’m actually just a straight guy, which of course means I have a deep and abiding hatred for all women, lol.) Chelsea here is also, judging from her other books, also probably more of an ally than a queer person, (*) you know—which is a magnet, I suppose, for, I don’t know. You know how there’s that popular Spencer biographer who wrote the non-technical medieval history overview, A World Lit Only By Fire, which I’d like to read some day, or something like it; but the specialists flamed it; they’re like the nativists of intellectualia, they meet the immigrants at the border with sticks and broken bottles and start building a wall. “We’re going to build the wall, and Barnes & Noble is going to pay for it.”

(*) Actually, it turns out, she (she/they!) is queer herself (themself).

I don’t know; I’m straight, but I’d like to get over myself, and see queer people as just like the person next door, the cute and wholesome romance instead of the weirdo or the person who doesn’t exist, but…. But, you know, other people, theoretically, could get over themselves too. Like when Tony Soprano got shot and he saw the Indian saying on the wall, Sometimes I go about pitying myself, and all the while a great wind carries me across the sky, and it helps him, but then he gets out of the hospital and he starts carrying on and haranguing his criminal associates about how a great wind is carrying them across the sky. That’s what I am—not a great wind, but Tony Soprano. After all, we’re both straight guys, even if he’s a little more excellent in his straightness than me, lol.

…. It’s very pretty, it’s achingly sincere romantic drama, and I’m already regretting not getting it in its e-reader version: hmm, not here. Walk walk walk. Walk walk walk. *looks around*

[Incidentally, where I live I didn’t have that reaction reading the Gita—I live in NJ, albeit in what I think is a light red county. Once I was at the mall and this guy in a Star Wars stormtrooper costume helmet was I guess trying to get attention and failing, and he asked me what I was reading so I just showed him the cover of the Gita edition I was reading and went right back and he didn’t say anything. At the time I didn’t believe in engaging the popular culture—I don’t know how I’d handle it now, but I Really don’t know how I’d handle harassment even one time (better at the mall than by people you know) about reading a lesbian novel. What am I supposed to say—it’s June? People aren’t homophile for thirty days every June; that’s a polite fiction. Like this! Lol. It’s a very polite novel. I mean, Chelsea has her say, Aww that’s a fucking shame, very occasionally, but other than that it seems all shy love. Much better behaved than many contemporary romances or even this girl’s other books…. I guess they’re still trying to get them over, you know, the gay couple that doesn’t have sex in public (they own an art gallery, for God’s sake) “doesn’t know that they’re gay”—but I don’t want to tell you who said that. I don’t work for the Stasi; I just want my “imported” West German consumer goods lol.]

…. I’m a lot more like the femme. Do I always let fear dictate my life? Of course not. I only fear two things—death, and life. Most people fear lots of things. My fears are very abstract, so they’re fewer.

…. The quiet desperation of small town life. You think of the New Englanders as all being little Emerson boys and Thoreau girls, but. “I never got out of the fishbowl.”

…. They also seems like they’re just poor and sad enough to be relatable, while also kinda contented and local, you know. I guess that would set some people off, but I’m basically the person who benefits, lol.

…. Eventually I started reading it at home.… (més)

Readable but semi-ridiculous. Lots of telling, less showing. Dude-pro was too perfectly understanding and the chick-pro was abusive. If the roles had been reversed, dude would have been put in jail for all the physical violence. Understandably, the chick had lots of issues, but still, NOT OKAY. The verbal abuse was pretty bad too.

The writing itself was uneven but not offensively bad, though there were some rookie mistakes (to instead of too, frex). The sex scenes were SO BORING, which was especially disappointing considering that they don't even start until 75% through.

I need to stop reading self-pubbed New Adult, but [b:Easy|13548456|Easy|Tammara Webber|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1342983117s/13548456.jpg|19113823] makes me keep trying. Thank baby jesus for Amazon loans.… (més)

I received a copy of this novel in exchange for my honest review. Taylor Caldwell is surprised her sophomore year of college by the addition of her fourth roommate. Not the fact that she has to share her room with someone, but that it turns out to be a guy. If you'd never believed in love at first sight, you will after reading this book. There is so much undeniable chemistry between these two that you can't miss it. This book is 200 pages of sexual tension as Taylor comes to terms with her attraction to Hunter. They have a bet, will she love him, or will she hate him when this is all over? Guess you better read it and find out!… (més)