I've Decided I Just Can't Do This

This morning I started to read a book by an author whose work I really want to like. It was witty, and it looked as if the basic premise was clever. Everything looked promising. It looked like a go, right?

Except the book opens with shopping and talk about boyfriends.

I know there are people who like that stuff. I respect other readers' tastes. Go for it. Read all the shopping books you can find. Myself, I can't even stand looking at catalogs anymore, forget about reading books about people who buy things from them or anywhere else.

I might have been able to take the talk about boyfriends if it hadn't been combined with shopping.

I decided to give up after just two and a half short chapters. But then I started thinking--what if I had to write a book about shopping...with or without boyfriends? What if, say, a gun was held to my head? How would I write about shopping? I thought maybe I could have zombies run through a mall. Maybe some kind of battle there. A spaceship could land on the roof. A mummy princess back from her mummihood could go shopping and run up a huge credit card bill.

I've tried to recall if I've ever written anything at all in which shopping figured in even a marginal way. I think the kids in the aliens books went to the grocery store. In one of the earlier drafts of the never-ending story, the main character and her family went to the mall, but I think most of that scene took place in a food court. Plus, that whole storyline was dropped, probably because shopping just isn't that interesting. Or I should say, I sure can't think of any way to make it interesting.

I think I may have had characters talk about having been shopping. If I've ever written any scenes in which they are actually shown shopping, I've repressed it.

So, anyway I'll be reading something else later tonight.