*insert clever pop culture reference here*

I shall tell you a story.

One day, I was watching TV and left the room for a moment. When I came back, TV Announcer Guy said: Next: the series premiere of Gilmore Girls. Curious, I stayed tuned. For seven years.

If you don't know, Gilmore Girls was a series on the WB about a mother and daughter, the quirky town they live in, and the ridiculously good looking man who keeps them in coffee. It's a show about relationships, but it's also very, very funny--that is, when it's not making you angry (season seven, I'm looking at you).

(Incidentally, don't judge the show by season seven. They had new writers that year after the original creator/writer left in a huff and wrote them into a corner, because she's apparently twelve years old. Season seven was bad. But the first--well, the first five seasons are just great. Season six is a little...questionable.)

The show is full of pop culture references. You won't get them all. (If you do, you might need to get out more.) So watch it with someone--because the ones you miss, they'll get, and vice versa. And the ones you both miss? Well, it's educational.

I know they talk fast. That's part of why I like it. Don't tell me it's not realistic. I don't care.

I'm feeling pressure to be extremely witty and relevant in this post because of the subject material, and I'm aware that I'm failing miserably. I guess that's my cue to go watch more Gilmore Girls and brush up on my witty speed referencing. Wanna come over?

High Noon

EDITOR: Hey, Stephenie. Thanks for coming in. I just finished Breaking Dawn.

SM: Oh, great! How'd you like it?

EDITOR: Pretty good. Much more plot than the previous three. Good work!

SM: Thanks, I was trying to actually have a storyline this time.

EDITOR: It shows. I also like how you divided the book into chunks. Gives us a chance to get into someone else's head for a while, see from a different perspective.

SM: Thanks.

EDITOR: I think we need to name these chunks, though. A good title can help so much, don't you agree?

SM: Er...yes...

EDITOR: A good title can tantalize, hint--not give too much away but still really give readers an idea of what's to come. I have some great title ideas for you.

SM: Okay! That'd be pretty helpful, I guess. Shoot.

EDITOR: All right. The first part--wait for it, this is sheer genius--I think you should call the first part "Bella Likes Sex."

SM: What?

EDITOR: "Bella Likes Sex." Isn't it perfect?

SM: Um, don't you think it's a little, uh, on the nose?

EDITOR: But that's what's so great about it! Readers know exactly what they're getting, but not too much. I mean, they don't know who Bella likes sex with.

SM: I think I'll just stick with calling it "Bella."

EDITOR: Well, your loss. Okay, part two. Part two is a little trickier. I'm toying with two options here. Let me run the first one by you: "Jacob Hates Vampires."

SM: A bit obvious for a title, isn't it?

EDITOR: Well, really, Stephenie, what else have you given me to work with here?

SM: There's more to Jacob than his hatred of vampires. Can't you do something with that?

EDITOR: Of course you're right. That leads me to my second title choice, if you don't like the first one--

SM: Yes, please.

EDITOR: Okay: "Jacob is a Jerk."

SM: What??

EDITOR: Come on, Stephenie. You've got to admit that you've written one of the most unlikable characters ever. And considering that we're actually supposed to like him anyway, this is quite a feat.

SM: I disagree. And I think there are a lot of fans that would disagree as well.

EDITOR: Really? How could they? I mean, Jacob is a character who is so full of self-reflection, which you'd think would unearth so much depth. But really, he never has any kind of self-realization. He's shallow and angst-ridden and basically, well, a jerk. Hence the title.

SM: Well, wouldn't you be? Angst-ridden and all that. Considering all he's been through.

EDITOR: Oh, probably. But I hope I'd grow, and not because of some obvious plot-contrivance, but naturally.

SM: Plot-contrivance?

EDITOR: Oh, yeah, sorry. Minor nit-picky detail there. It bothered me when Jacob--

SM: I wrote it, you don't need to tell me.

EDITOR: True. Plus, you can see it coming a mile away.

SM: Hmph.

EDITOR: Well, we obviously have some differences of opinion over part two. But I'm sure we can agree about part three.

SM: Yeah, we'll see.

EDITOR: Now, you can see I'm an advocate for those short, sound-byte titles. But part three doesn't lend itself to that easily.

SM: No?

EDITOR: No. A lot of stuff happens in part three! I mean, a lot!

SM: Thank you?

EDITOR: Indeed! Nice job, really.

SM: So, what's the problem?

EDITOR: Well, my title idea is kind of a mouthful.

SM: Let's hear it.

EDITOR: Okay. "Lots of Stuff Happens, and Then It Gets Predictable and Cheesy. (P.S. Bella Likes Sex.)"

SM: Bella does like sex. I'll give you that one. But "predictable" and "cheesy"?

EDITOR: C'mon, Steph. Think.

SM: "Cheesy"...yeah, you're right. But it's a romance at heart, gimme a break. It always has been, from the beginning.

EDITOR: Okay, I'll cave on that. But predictable, you gotta admit it's predictable.

SM: No, I don't!

EDITOR: My secretary read your manuscript and promised me that there was a great twist in it, that I'd never see where it was going. Did I, uh, did I get a different copy?

SM: No...

EDITOR: Then I'm sticking with predictable.

SM: *sigh* Can we go to press anyway?

EDITOR: Sure. You write really well! I mean that. I look forward to your next book!

Hindsight is 20/20

In retrospect, the subtitle should've given it away.

When I stumbled across My Name is Willin Borders a couple of weeks ago, I was so excited. After all, I'm a huge Shakespeare nerd. And the book is by Jess Winfield, one of the founding members of the Reduced Shakespeare Company, whose roaringly funny Complete Works is, well, roaringly funny.

My Name is Will is, well, not so much.

Okay, so the subtitle is "A Novel of Sex, Drugs, and Shakespeare." How was I to know that instead of the subtle (and not-so-subtle) innuendo performed with such hilarity by the RSC, this book would be pretty much pornographic? How could I have anticipated that a man who wrote a script full of such clever pop culture references would write a novel filled with almost painfully self-aware references and Shakespearean quotes that practically scream, "Look at me! I'm trying to be clever!"

I kept hoping this book would get better. But it doesn't. In fact, it never even seems to reach any kind of...I can't find a word that doesn't seem sexual in the context of this filthy, filthy book. It never comes together. (That's as benign as I can get. Sorry.)

It left me feeling empty and dirty and sad. It could've been great. But it was pretty much the complete opposite. Don't waste your time even reading the dust jacket.