I enjoy chick lit but maybe not as much as I once did. I started reading it a few years ago, about ten years into my marriage. I was single for what seemed like an eon (sounding like a character in one of those books). Why would I want to revisit those sometimes lonely, painful years of singlehood by reading books about young women looking for love? Maybe because my own story ended in a happy marriage, and I look back on my single years with more nostalgia than is merited? Or maybe it’s because I miss the close friendships I developed with other singles during those years? Those friendships were never quite the same after my marriage (in fact, some of them faded away, for one reason or another). Whatever the case, I enjoy the stories of single women, their friendships, the challenges they face, and the humor that is imparted through chick lit. My favorite titles in the genre are Good in Bed, by Jennifer Weiner, and Waking Up in the Land of Glitter, by Kathy Cano-Murilllo (hilarious book–I laughed a lot).
But why does it seem that I’m now losing interest in these books? Without naming names, I’ve read some lousy chick lit lately. The characters have such negative self-images (too much cellulite, too many bad hair days, big feet, big hands, fat wrists–yes, I’m exaggerating, but you get the idea) , it’s difficult to root for them. If they don’t like themselves, how do they expect someone else to love them, or the readers to care about them? Yes, as a single, I certainly remember occasionally wallowing in self-pity, like rolling around in a vat of chocolate-chip ice cream. But for the most part, I felt good about myself and what I had accomplished in my life, especially as a professional in my field. Maybe I’ll take a break from reading these books unless someone recommends a good one. Do you have any recommendations for me?