After that whiney post from last week (sorry dudes), you will be happy to know that I spent the weekend whipping my shit back into shape. MY SHIT IS NOW IN SHAPE, people. Let’s change the term from “shipshape” to “shitshape” in honor of this feeling. HOW IS EVERYONE DOING? SHITSHAPE, CAP’N. Consider the phrase coined.
Did you all read and/or see the movie Gone Girl? I did both, and although I can’t say that I disliked either, I wasn’t a goner for them either (see what I did there?). (Don’t worry no spoilers here for those that haven’t read/seen it). There was something about the psychotic stuff that was just too over the top for me. Like, I know it is heightened reality but the height was just a touch too much. It went from cray-cray to cray-cray-cray and that’s one too many crays. The Girl on the Train, by Paula Hawkins, has gotten lots of comparisons to Gone Girl for good reason: there are crappy, dysfunctional marriages, everyone is worthy of the reader’s suspicion, there is a girl who is gone. However, this one maintained the heightened reality stuff to a degree that I could handle. The main character is a woman who experiences alcoholic blackouts which makes for interesting unreliable narrator bidness, and the pacing is just the right combination of slow/eerie with punches of fast action. There are themes of motherhood and fertility and femininity that play out that were not my cup of tea but if they’re yours, you’ll be in hog heaven.