I'm the kind of person who must have a book to read at all times. I get tremendous amounts of anxiety if I am not currently involved in some story. However, money is tight right now, so I've resorted to re-reading some books that I read long ago. Last night, I just finished a book I read back in 2000 called Jemima J by Jane Green.
I remember reading this book back then and thinking it was one of my favorites. Now I know that it's actually quite a horrible book. It starts off with this fat girl named, of course, Jemima Jones. Like I said, she's fat, has no friends, has never had a boyfriend, is in un-requited love with a co-worker, and all the other unfortunate and ignorant things that come along with being fat. Then, after a moment of revelation, she goes on a crash diet, loses an enormous amount of weight in a short amount of time, becomes obsessed with exercising and then gets a makeover by a chic and stylish "friend". She then moves to California where every single attractive man tries to pick her up. The co-worker, after having spent months apart (which sets up the "Is that really you Jemima?" scene) re-connects with her. They fall madly in-love, she regains a little weight (not enough to make her "fat" again) and get married. How.......quaint.
Really....how unrealistic can you get? This has never happened. This will never happen. There simply aren't happy endings like this anymore. Fat people don't transform themselves to perfect, chisled size 2's in the matter of three months. It's just not possible.
I guess re-reading this book has given me insight on just how much I've grown in the past 8 years. I remember thinking that this book was prolific and mirrored my life so much. Now I just see it as a distraction. Mindless drivel. I guess I am more in tune with reality now. For once, I would like to read a story about the fat girl who doesn't get slim yet still manages to find a nice guy and some wonderful friends. Maybe I should just write it myself.