Dear John, by Nicholas Sparks, was gayer than Brokeback Mountain. no offense ("not that there's anything wrong with that!" -my dearest friend, Jerry Seinfeld) i know it is "politically incorrect" to indicate how lame and wrong things are by referring to them as quote-unquote "gay", but i have no political qualms. and this book was very gay. let me just say that a book written in first person perspective, from a MAN's point of view, should not dwell quite so much on these sappy, annoying feelings and emotions and state it in such a 'this is how i feel and this is why i feel and blah blah blah' we get it, you're fucking in love. with a girl that u spent a week with on the beach. while you were on leave from the army. how fucking original, nicholas sparks. man up and find your balls, dude. this is not the way bestselling authors are supposed to sound. at least add something unpredictable, some grit, so
me real story-telling. and i did not cry a single tear. because the story was lame. the writing was lame. and life is a lot worse than this horrible wanna-be sob story.... i wasn't expecting realism from this author, but i was expecting something a lot more compelling than this crap. yuck. i know you can do better, mr. sparks, i have read 'a walk to remember' and sobbed in all its sappy glory. but has anyone seen the movie? i bet they can make it a lot better than the book. one of the few cases. even though the story sucks, i will probably cave and see it anyway at some point in my life. after all, a girl in my lit class said she cried harder than she has cried at any other movie, so it can't be too bad, right? what a skewed sense of reality i have......
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