Wednesday, 24 September 2014
The Accidental Bride by Christina Skye
Preamble. But wait there is a point to this rather nondescript opening line. Read on:
The groom got sick. The bride overslept. The best man was a dog.
See what the author did here? OMG, LOL!!!! You just know this is going to be, like, so totally jocular and laughable. The quirkiness of the wedding continues, but I skipped the rest of this prologue until the end to find out if there was something actually beautiful about the wedding, or if this novel begins with sarcasm, which rarely hooks me. Read it yourself if you are dying to know.
The third paragraph:
And the day had barely begun.
There's more craziness? Be still my beating heart. Too bad about starting a sentence and a paragraph with a conjunction that's been forced into an unnatural act as a failed conjunctive adverb.
One month earlier
The restaurant kitchen was a scene right out of World War III.
No one knows what World War III looks like, though I googled it and it could look like anything from this to this. Therefore, making a comparison to something that doesn't exist is ineffectual. Making such comparisons is like making a comparison to how a Pintian from the Planet Googg in the 34V2th century of the 30th era ruled by the three-headed Hyper-Moodian and a Half would write to those on Earth. That is to say, why compare something to something that doesn't exist? To provide a simile (to appease English teachers?) that's only purpose is to explore absurd hyperbole devoid of meaning to establish tone? Fortunately, the author explains what a scene from World War III would look like:
Pots churned, grills smoked and a dozen harried workers danced to avoid each other. It was cramped, hot and noisy - one step away from chaos.
So World War III will look like kitchen workers dancing? Suddenly the future seems so bright.
The opening page goes on to explain that Jilly couldn't be happier managing this busy kitchen before continuing that sometimes she hated it being so successful and busy. Does this character have multiple-personality disorder? No! She prefers the kitchen life to the shmoozing life. So why not hire a hostess and work in the kitchen then? Because she has a chef who does the cooking, and I'm sure that person is ready to snap and go berserk with Jilly going back there and choreographing the kitchen workers' dance.
At this point I have a question, not about this novel of course, as there is no conflict that raises any questions in the opening sentences; rather, why do romance novels sometimes start with food and trifling human discord? My theory is that the happy ending is human accord on a full tummy. That is the happily ever after. For men, it's love, a steak and a beer; for women, it's love, a glass of wine and a chocolate souffle. Without yummy-yummy, there's no lovey-dovey.
First thing said:
"Are you ready?"
The worst thing about this opening is not the fact it is ridiculously written, but that people will think it isn't ridiculous and will actually be hooked. This kind of mental degeneration may actually closer resemble WW III than dancing kitchen workers. But I hope I'm wrong.