I’ve come to accept the fact that I hate myself, which is why I went back to Wattpad this week. It’s also why my liver won’t see forty. (I should move to Europe so I could “joke” about getting drunk and not have people worry about the law.) Because I hate myself, I am going to force myself through this near-50 chapter story on Wattpad, and dedicate these next two blogs to this. The first post is going to go over the general gist of the story and take a shit on it, while I’ll go more in depth with the next one.
The Girl He Never Noticed screams “generic” and “clichéd” right away, which signifies why it’s so successful on Wattpad. Seriously, the first chapter has 5.2 million views. How come a shitty story on Wattpad gets so many views, but my shitty blog doesn’t? Life ain’t fair.
You can also already tell from the first chapter that this is going to be switching POV’s like a smack addict switches veins, and that this will be a masterpiece. Seriously, it’s prefaced with CHAPTER ONE (unedited).
Our characters are Jade, the “plain” girl, who wears a black wig and black rimmed glasses, braces, and old fashioned clothing. “Everyone thought she was a weirdo, a nerd or a girl resurrected from the past.” Yeah, get in fucking line, where’s my story? I’m eighteen going on eighty here.
Then we have Eros Petrakis, a rich businessman with a name about as subtle as an undercover cop asking for weed. “They thought his first name was another four-letter word of EVIL. He never smiled; he never said ‘please’ and never apologized for his mistakes.” I also heard he pushes fat people down the stairs, steals kids’ candy, and insults grannies. He’s a bad dude.
Be inspired in their story. Laugh, Cry, Giggle, and Feel in Love with them. Sweetheart, I’d be a very different person if I felt love.
Yeah, this girl’s grammar isn’t the best, like not even close, but it’s not My Immortal levels bad. It’s vaguely reminiscent of someone’s who’s learned a language, but hasn’t quite mastered it (or as I like to call it, received a public school education.) You’ll see her slip up because THIS SHIT IS UNEDITED. AND IT STILL HAS 5.2 MILLION VIEWS.
The dialogue is already choppy as all hell, and we get inane facts simply thrown at us, which means I’m going to randomly burst out laughing as I read this. That’s my favorite kind of bad story.
Before I continue shitting on the author, let me say, I at least give her some credit for not writing fan fiction, even if this is one of the most generic shitheaps I’ll read. With that said, this is still a shitheap.
Why does Jade wear a wig? Is this the trendy thing to do now? Is she an Orthodox Jew? She’s wearing a flowered dress from her grandma, so I’m starting to think she is an Orthodox Jew. Probably from Crown Heights too.
Well, that’s all I can really say about this apparent piece of crap before I attempt to finish it, so it’s time to rant a bit.
I get that it’s a fantasy, have the plain girl be noticed by the amazing, handsome, rich bad-boy/playboy whom they tame, and he sees their hidden inner beauty, and it’s one of the worst tropes. The plain girl has nothing special about her at all. She’s just an extension of the author and the author’s desires, and it’s plain to see each time you read it.
As for the playboy in that case, why on earth would he suddenly decide “I’ve had enough of this high rolling and these beautiful women; what I need is some random girl I met on the street that looks like my grandma.”? A supermodel isn’t going to randomly think “You know, I get all these athletes and musicians, but what I need is some short, sarcastic Jew that writes blogs about fan fiction,” and then come fall in my lap. That’s just not how the world works. I at least need money for that to happen.
And yeah, yeah, it’s a story, it’s not meant to be realistic, but I can’t suspend disbelief in realistic fiction. You can’t make a war story, and write about a one man army, unless it’s also fantasy. This is not speculative fiction, you have to know how real humans act, think, and talk. Stop giving writing an easy pass, we need rigor in our critique, or else you get modern art.