Caitlin Liveblogs Fifty Shades of Grey: Chapter 1 [part 3]

[disclaimer: I don’t own any of the gifs used in this post. If you see a gif that you created and would either like credit for it or would like it taken down, please let me know.]

So Ana gets to the 20th floor (travelling at Terminal Velocity, apparently, since that’s totally possible to do when travelling UPWARDS IN AN ELEVATOR) and is greeted by YET ANOTHER well-dressed blonde woman (Jesus, is everyone blonde in this universe? Everyone except Ana, of course).

Ana sits down to wait for Mr. Grey, and we get another couple paragraphs of useless place description. There’s lots of windows in this place and it’s large and there’s fancy things in it. How riveting.

I sit down, fish the questions from my satchel, and go through them, inwardly cursing Kate for not providing me with a brief biography. I know nothing about this man I’m about to interview. He could be ninety or he could be thirty. The uncertainty is galling, and my nerves resurface, making me fidget.

judging you

So you couldn’t…I don’t know…GOOGLE HIM?! If he’s really as big of a deal as you claim he is, I GUARANTEE you could google him. You can google ANYONE. So you’re going to get mad at your friend, who has the flu and feels like she’s about to die (or at least I assume so, since I can’t imagine Kate would just give up the biggest interview of her life because of a little baby cold), because you were too goddamned lazy to get on a computer for 2 seconds before you left?

I’m not even done with the first chapter and already you sound like the most useless lump of stupid I’ve ever come into contact with.

I’ve never been comfortable with one-on-one interviews, preferring the anonymity of a group discussion where I can sit inconspicuously at the back of the room. To be honest, I prefer my own company, reading a classic British novel, curled up in a chair in the campus library. Not sitting twitching nervously in a colossal glass and stone edifice.

special snowflake

Oh you prefer your own company? You enjoy reading books? HOW UNIQUE YOU ARE. THERE IS NO ONE ELSE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD AS UNIQUE AS YOU ARE. I AM SO IMPRESSED BY YOUR UNIQUENESS.

Another elegant, flawlessly dressed blonde comes out of a large door to the right. What is it with all the immaculate blondes? It’s like Stepford here.

Alright, maybe this is just a pet-peeve of mine, but I HATE when authors pull shit like this, where the narrator asks the question that the reader should be asking themselves. If the writing is good and the writer is doing their job well, the reader will ask themselves those questions, they don’t need help. I was already asking the “blonde” question as soon as the second blonde got introduced. Have a little faith, E.L., your readers are smarter than you think.

[…or maybe not, since they’re reading these awful books.]

So then we get a couple pages (at least it’s a couple pages on my phone, since that’s where I’m reading it, but it’s probably only like a page in a full-sized book) that’s literally just Blonde #3 getting mad because Blonde #2 didn’t offer Ana anything to drink, so then Blonde #2 gets Ana some water and we get some of the most pointless dialogue I’ve ever read in my entire life, like this:

“My apologies, Miss Steele, Olivia is our new intern. Please be seated. Mr. Grey will be another five minutes.”
Olivia returns with a glass of iced water.
“Here you go, Miss Steele.”
“Thank you.”

WAS THAT REALLY NECESSARY?! REALLY? REALLY.


really SNL

Really.

So Mr. Grey is FINALLY able to see Ana after WAY TOO MANY PAGES. Seriously, Why did we need all that crap about Ana leaving her house? Start with the action, people. Unless there was something vitally important about Ana leaving the house that I missed, it was completely unnecessary and boring and pointless. ugh.

I push open the door and stumble through, tripping over my own feet, and falling head first into the office.

Wow, smooth move, Steele. A+ effort.

Double crap – me and my two left feet! I am on my hands and knees in the doorway to Mr. Grey’s office, and gentle hands are around me helping me to stand. I am so embarrassed, damn my clumsiness. I have to steel myself to glance up. Holy cow – he’s so young.

ugh

Seriously, just stop. Holy cow? That’s actually a thing that you say, Ana? Was “Holy cow” really a vital thing to include in the writing, E.L.? So done with this right now. So. Done.

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