Erin writes in her post: “Chick lit was everywhere. What happened? Sure, there’s still some out there, but the good stuff (in my opinion) is harder to find, and the pickings are slim.”… “Are we supposed to believe that women can’t write fun, smart novels without talking about shoes and shopping?”
Then I found this post on AustenProse (I love this blog), Laurel Ann writes:
“The conversation came around to her shocking statement that chick-lit was dead, how the recession had killed it and the affect on her and many of her fellow authors in the genre. Inwardly, I felt embarrassed. I should know this. I’m a professional book seller. It then dawned me that our new release tables were sorely lacking in the tell-tale shocking pink covers that personified the genre”
“Honestly, I do not think chick-lit is dead. It’s just had a make-over. Now its heroines don’t just shop for shoes and have sex, they have a social conscience while they’re doing it.”
Where has all the Chick Lit gone indeed? Is chick-lit really dead?
I started reading chick lit in my early twenties, the first chick lit I ever read was “Can you keep a secret?” by Sophie Kinsella, it was love at first page, I was thrilled on my discovery.
Now I am almost 29 and I feel a bit disappointed in a genre that used to be my favorite but right now doesn’t represent me. I don’t want to read about marriage, divorce, children, illness…but neither I like writers like Louise Bagshawe or Jackie Collins, all that glitter blinds me.
I share an apartment with other four people, my only possess is my third-hand bicycle, I have a job but I feel like I’m not going anywhere, I go out on friday night and come back on saturday morning…I am still very much a girl, this is probably why I relate so well to everything that comes with “ya” attached and I am sure I am not alone.
Given a choice I prefer to read about an 18 years old girl rather than a thirty-something woman, an 18 years old girl is not obsessed by a career, she doesn’t worry about her biological clock ticking, she doesn’t have a mortgage and neither do I.
I don’t regard myself as a particular shallow person, I had my share of pain in life but I don’t particularly enjoy reading about it, I guess what I am trying to say is that even if I had a mortgage or my biological clock was ticking I wouldn’t want to read about those things.
Chick-lit is not dead but it definitely had a make-over, problem is I haven’t changed that much in the last ten years, should I be worried about myself then?…what can I say? I am not.
I haven’t given up completely on the genre, last year I read three brilliant chick lit:
* Slacker Girl by Koslow Alexandra
* Calendar Girl by Neale Naomi
* If Andy Warhol had a girlfriend by Pace Alison
and there is at least one writer out there who I am sure understands how I feel, her name is Meg Cabot.
I’ve never been into urban fantasy but I am currently reading the The Kate Daniels Series by Ilona Andrews and I am really enjoying myself:
“When one door closes, another opens”! (I would rather keep all doors open)