Friday, March 10, 2017

bitches gotta read: the hate u give.

i'm creeping closer and closer to the beginning of the month with these book selections. and one of these months it's gonna be on the first or maybe even at the end of the month prior and you guys are gonna have a goddamn heart attack. to prove my newfound dedication to this group, i went to my local independent bookseller and purchased seven or eight interesting-looking YA novels so i can get ahead of the curve, even though i had to withstand the irl scrutiny of real human eyes who were definitely thinking "bitch you don't have this many kids." or any, but whatever. maybe it's not even embarrassing to buy YA books anymore?

when i'm not busy giving into the anxiety wrought by my 126 unanswered emails, i read as many book lists as i can remember exist: book riot and vulture and indie bound and ew and bustle and the millions and bust and the times and newsweek and buzzfeed and elle and refinery 29 and nylon and i'm pretty sure i bought everything off the new teen vogue list, and the hate u give was on basically all of them. i get nervous when i see a book everywhere that i actually really want to succeed because man that's got to be a lot of pressure? but also HOORAY FOR ALL THIS PUBLIC PRAISE. expectations are tough. i mean, if mister young adult john green said my young adult novel was "stunning" i'd shit my pants (who are we kidding, i'd probably do that anyway?) and then wait for everyone to tell me that it's actually trash. but i read the first few pages and am already in love so angie girl i hope this sells a million copies and you get enough money to put new tires on your car or whatever your realistic goals are.

the rules
1 we are never going to meet in real life. that would require a bra and zippered pants and probably an expensive uber and no one is doing that. you don't have to worry about megan's dairy allergy or that vanessa doesn't like champagne. no cleaning the cat box or vacuuming the drapes or hiding the dirty laundry in the oven so your company doesn't realize what a huge slob you are. just you in your house glasses and gravy pants sobbing into your six pack of beer, the way rainbow rowell intended. getting together with people you don't live next door to is hella stressful. plus, a bunch of old bitches sitting around talking about fictional teenage romance is lame. OR IS IT THO.
2 we are never going to discuss this, ever. i mean seriously. i'm going to derive pleasure from knowing that people i might possibly enjoy spending time with if i ever could bring myself to meet new people and i are falling asleep and drooling on the same book we'll probably never finish. maybe we'll talk about it on twitter or something. but even thinking about organizing that is a daunting task and i'm already exhausted. mariyam suggested making a facebook group, but is that dumb? the internet is so hard sometimes. (ETA: there is a group! it's called bitches gotta read! and it is full of hilarious mostly-women people who aren't irritating! come find us!!) i also have a bunch of friends on goodreads but lesbihonest: i'm not, like, putting all these john grishams i read on there because i don't need you guys clowning me in public.
3 we are never going to shame each other about not reading the fucking book. this is the beauty of never having to meet or talk about it: i ain't gotta come up with "thoughtful questions" and you ain't gotta pretend to remember what happened at the end of chapter seven while a bunch of wine-drunk bitches you don't even like that much wait expectantly for your answer. i'll read the books for sure, but that's only in case i run into one of you at the co-op and you decide to ask how shocked i was by the twist no one saw coming at the end.

brief internet synopsis
Sixteen-year-old Starr Carter moves between two worlds: the poor neighborhood where she lives and the fancy suburban prep school she attends. The uneasy balance between these worlds is shattered when Starr witnesses the fatal shooting of her childhood best friend Khalil at the hands of a police officer. Khalil was unarmed.
Soon afterward, his death is a national headline. Some are calling him a thug, maybe even a drug dealer and a gangbanger. Protesters are taking to the streets in Khalil’s name. Some cops and the local drug lord try to intimidate Starr and her family. What everyone wants to know is: what really went down that night? And the only person alive who can answer that is Starr. But what Starr does—or does not—say could upend her community. It could also endanger her life.

SOUNDS DOPE RIGHT. for my real life book club aka a perfectly acceptable reason to buy overpriced dips and snacks from the wine store, we just read that book the vegetarian that garnered tons of accolades and awards last year and ayo: i didn't really get it. like, i knew it was good because a lot of people said it was good but then i read it and was like "WHAT." mavis read it and loved it but that bitch went to grad school. i kept waiting for the part that would show this simpleton why it was good but even on the last page i had to ask myself if i'd accidentally skipped a chapter. then i had to admit to all the people in my living room eating korean catering because WOW O WOW DO I ENJOY A THEME that i don't really get symbolism and nuance. i mean i got the whole becoming a tree thing but i didn't feel moved by it. or excited about it. or whatever response award-winning literature is supposed to elicit from the reader. it helped to have a bunch of smartypants explain things to me while i smiled like it made sense, then as soon as they left i started reading this murder mystery called the dry that had blessedly zero complicated themes or metaphors and it was excellent. shame-filled online reading club 4eva.

click here! read this, too!