Breakup Babe

The beginning of this book was filled with shocking parallels to my life. Protagonist (and let's face it...author) starts a blog after a nasty break up. Sends the link to a few friends. Begins to receive comments from admiring strangers. Forced to attend wedding of younger sister (for me, it was younger cousin) shortly after nasty break-up. Bored by her mind-numbing job, blogs at work, constantly afraid of getting caught. Starts dating and blogs about disastrous dates for amusement. Meets guy through blog and meets him in person, dubbing him "long distance boy".

When I first picked it up, I thought it was going to be more of what my idea was...a blog-form novel. Not so much. It was more a novel about writing a blog, which didn't excite me quite so much. (I'm still convinced my thing is possible. Meg Cabot has written entire novels in the form of e-mails, instant messages and inter-office memos. And quite successfully.)

And while the similarities were there, there were plenty of differences. She had a lot more sex than me, for instance. And there was the whole creating alter-egos thing (Captain Celexa, Sensible Girl and Needy Girl) who actually got dialogue in the blog. Clever, or kind of annoying? Hmm...

And she ended the thing by climbing a mountain. That's definitely not me. ;)

Overall, I enjoyed the writing style but was underwhelmed by the story.

Writing prompt 1

End with, "It was raining, but he didn't open his umbrella."

Well, my brain already begain *starting* with the quote, so I followed it:

The first time I saw him, it was raining, but he didn't open his umbrella.

He was crossing the street, wearing a suit and tie. His coat was open, and I wondered where he was going in such a hurry. The umbrella hung off his arm, unopened, and he held a newspaper over his head.

I started to see him more after that. Maybe he'd always been there and I'd just never noticed...he'd blended into the crowds. But now I see him everywher. Buying a paper at the corner store. Walking out of the coffee shop, carrying his coffee in a paper cup. Walking his chocolate lab in the park.

I haven't figured out where he lives. It's not like I can follow him home, see where he goes. That would be crepy. Stalkerish. Talk to him? Well, that I could do. In theory. I just never seem to find the words. We make eye contact. Smile. And then I break away, embarrassed and tongue tied.

I'm terrible at this. I met my husband in college, where you don't so much "date" as wake up one day to find yourself in a relationship. He proposed before we graduated, we got married a year later, and then we lived blissfully for the next ten years.

Or so I thought.