I’ve been watching some TV with my grandpa in Taiwan. What I noticed that there are a lot of commercials about the following things:
- Epic fantasy cell phone games
- Upcoming TV shows
- Dietary supplements/anything health related
Taiwanese TV shows are cheesy, not going to lie. I don’t blame them; production companies there don’t have quite the budget as they do elsewhere, and short of that, their island is so small there aren’t that many places to shoot that aren’t crawling with people. Although something has to be said about spreading a budget over a show that runs for 300+ episodes…
So one such commercial I saw advertised the upcoming premier for some girly drama (we call them idol shows on this little island) called “Prince of Wolf.”
Grammatical error aside, I think it’s your typical guilty pleasure drama.I actually kinda want to watch it, considering the commercial contains a pretty hilarious clip where the girl happens on a “boy who’s not wearing clothes” swimming in a waterfall pool.
[Note: This post, however, is not about the show.]
After going on Google and looking up this show, Google in its infinite wisdom corrected my grammatically incorrect search query to “Prince of Wolves.” Instead of a TV show about a werewolf-y dude, I found a YA novel about a werewolf-y dude.
Hey, it didn’t sound too bad. I was looking for brainless entertainment, and this YA novel fits the bill well enough. Since we’re well into the dystopia-and-insurgency phase of YA fiction, I knew that this book had probably been out for a while (probably sometime in the wake of Twilight and House of Night). But hey, I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. I decided to give it a shot.
It was probably a shot too much.
Now, I’m not here to write a scathing book review (I dashed out a quick, polite one on Goodreads), but comment on a realization I had about three chapters into this insipid little piece, summarized below.
I’m nearly twenty-one, and almost done with college. Five, six years ago, I could have read this and found it acceptable. Not anymore. The characterization was cringe-worthy, as well as the dialogue as well as the lame attempt at exoticism by including Romanian, which, by the way, was probably done by Google Translate (the author lives in Arkansas, so go figure). I’ve always been a bit of a grammar Nazi, and for a published work (okay, it was self-published, but still), it had a hell lot more errors and missing commas than it should. While the Goodreads reviewers that gave it a cumulative rating of 4.07 stars may forgive these egregious faults, I cannot!
So am I an adult? Hell yeah! I’ve definitely graduated from reading shit like this. Now I’m going to go back to being a very adult reader and continue reading Thomas Hardy.