How to Write a Chicklit Novel in One Easy Lesson. Or, my Review of "Blogger Girl".

I am going to revert to full-on Southerner here and say that the author is cute as a bug.  She also seems genuinely bubbly based upon her responses to the bloggers that have reviewed her work.  While this incessant perkiness makes me want to smack her with Elements of Style and end my misery, I really can’t fault her for it.  After all, it’s not Ms. Schorr’s fault that I am a disgruntled wannabe writer.  I DID note some errors in the text; but that might have been the Kindle version.  So what did I think of Ms. Schorr’s latest offering, Blogger Girl?  It wasn’t as bad as some of the others in this genre; Meredith Schorr actually has a grasp of grammar and syntax and has a subtle wit. Unfortunately, the book did have many flaws which I will delineate here.  I am probably going to get vilified here—Ms. Schorr has a huge following.

The novel is based upon the premise that the erstwhile heroine, Kim, is a highly successful chicklit blogger; that is, she reviews chicklit novels on a blog called Pastel Is the New Black. She is trying to save the genre from complete annihilation from its detractors that claim the category is trite, bland, precious, and sentimental. The heroine even complains about the bad novels of this genus. Kim loves her blog, though, and spends a great deal of time at her “real” job at a law firm working on it.  Oh—and her boss is completely fine with it, too. This was the first point that got on my damn nerves.  

I worked at two different law firms.  Unless Kim is damn Superwoman with the typing skills of a cracked-out hacker, there is no way in Hades that she would have time to bust out book reviews and read the books in question all the while working at a flourishing law firm.  The author apparently works at a law firm, so I would have expected a much more realistic picture of a legal office. She must have a much easier nonexistent caseload than the attorneys for whom I slaved worked.  I can multitask like nobody’s business.  I am efficient and computer savvy, and I still was up to my eyeballs in motions and court filings all day long.  So either Ms. Schorr is a complete legal badass or she has forgotten how thankless and frenetic legal work can be.  Maybe her boss has taken it easy on her now that she is a successful novelist. Perhaps she gets no sleep.  Perhaps Ms. Schorr deviated from the hectic life of a legal secretary in her novel so that our heroine could also have a busy social life.  Whatever the intent, I just found Kim’s seamless double life difficult to swallow.

Kim is a bit shame-faced about her veneration of chicklit. Indeed, when she describes her blog to her crush at a post-work do she is discomfited, to say the least.  She valiantly defends her choice, of course, because the author wants us to know that despite her diminutive stature Kim is SASSY.  Jesus.  If she had mentioned how short Kim was one more time I was going to spew wee, tiny, petite chunks.  I get it—she’s short and her last name is Long.  Oh, the incongruity!  Mwhahahaha.  

Now here comes the conflict and the life lesson. (And believe me, Ms. Schorr is not subtle—it is spelled out for you.) Kim’s high school nemesis, a young lady by the name of Hannah Marshak, has written a highly touted chicklit novel.  Hannah’s agent OF COURSE asks Kim to review the book.  Ooh, quite the dilemma!  Does Kim refuse? Does Kim read it and give it a bad review?  Or will she stay true to herself and her beloved blog and give the book an honest appraisal?  

To be fair to Ms. Schorr, we all had someone in high school that we absolutely abhorred.  Honestly, for most of us, high school was the academic equivalent of waterboarding.  We all have someone that we would like to see get their comeuppance; but of course karma doesn’t work that way, more’s the pity.  I did empathize briefly with Kim as she described the petty games that the evil Hannah would instigate.  But then it just went on and on, and frankly most of it was stupid.  If Kim was THAT thin-skinned she should have been home-schooled. (Oh, and did I mention that Kim is short? Hannah picks on her for it all the time.  What a bitch—pointing out the obvious like that.)  Sheesh. I’m short too, for Pete’s sake and I got over the taunts about my stature in about the third grade.  Kim is twenty-eight and still won’t shut up about it.  When Hannah’s character finally does show up, at the class reunion no less, she is so flagrantly bitchy it’s comical.  

When Kim finally accedes to reading Horrible Hannah’s book, she is upset because it turns out to be great.  In the end, Kim stays true to her principles and not only gives Hannah’s book a fair review, but discovers her own literary muse and writes a novel herself. She also manages to win back the guy she loves because of course they fought when he calls her out on her dishonesty to herself.

This seriously starts to read like a bad rom-com movie script. Throw in the loyal and talented BFF, the handsome (if mind-numbingly dull) love interest, and the stoner ex-boyfriend for comic relief, and whammo!  The next “You Again”—coming soon to a theater near you.

The irony here—and I am positive it was unintentional—is that the novel encompasses all of the typical chicklit traits. I cannot completely blast Meredith Schorr, however; unfortunately, the very term “chicklit” has come to mean a book that is evanescent and insubstantial.  Ms. Schorr has better writing skills than most in her genre and her characters have marked flaws which lends a touch of verisimilitude. She does have a sense of the ridiculous and a gentle wit—there was a scene with a Karaoke bar and various ill-assorted coworkers that had me giggling.  Ms. Schorr stays true to the genre—it is an easy unprepossessing read with a happy ending and an amiable, if grating, protagonist.  Blogger Girl is the literary equivalent of eating a whole Cinnabon.  It seems sweet and delicious for the first few bites; by the end, you feel a little nauseous and slightly guilty.