Welp, folks, I’m here to deliver some bad news: Jennifer Love Hewitt has authored a book. And it sucks.
The Day I Shot Cupid: Hello, my name is Jennifer Love Hewitt, and I’m a Love-aholic is actually on the shelves. It’s actually. On. The shelves.
If you’re still reading this post, you should know that the book contains a gross overabundance of the following:
1. Words in all caps. (YOU KNOW, LIKE THIS.)
2. Consecutive exclamation points. (We’re talking, like, 23 in a row – no, seriously. Think about how many that is.)
3. Consecutive question marks. (To be fair, she’s more conservative with these – five in a row, tops.)
4. “LOL.” (Wait…I thought this was a book. It’s a text message from a tween? Who knew!)
5. Horrible dating advice. (This post-breakup remedy, for example: “Make out with a stranger – he must be gorgeous or you’ll feel worse.”)
And to think, there are talented writers out there with something substantive to say, something that could actually impact readers -– in a positive way, I should hasten to add – who struggle to get published. Agents pass them by. Editors move on after a glance. But name recognition? Well, okay then! Bahda bing, bahda boom!
Sigh.
I think I’ll go eat bon-bons while watching a Party of Five marathon, maybe followed by The Ghost Whisperer.
That’s how depressed it makes me.