[Cut] Nicholas Sparks
“You read a romance because you know what to expect. You read a love story because you don’t know what to expect.” -Nicholas Sparks. Cut.
You can’t blame a guy for finding a formula that works. He throws together two unlikey (read: LIKELY) hetero-sexual romantic partners, gives one a dark past and one a disease, and watches the sands of time slowly run out on their happiness–the end.
It’s a bunch of crap, but it’s netted him millions, so don’t be jealous. The guy’s got the dollar-sign pupils to prove he’s found the means for success.
But don’t come at us with “I’m a revolutionary,” Sparks. Don’t try to call out long-dead legendary writers who started the very concept you’re cashing in on, just because you don’t want to be remembered solely as an empty plastic bag caught on a telephone pole on a windy day. You’re about as much of an artist as a monkey that accidentally shits in the shape of a heart.
And anyone who claims you have talent of some kind is just a kid at the zoo, being wowed by your miraculous poop, thinking that yes, this is what life must be like for the young and beautiful.
But the next thing they know, it’s Monday, and they’re back at work. The romance is over. And Nicholas Sparks is just another name on the shelf, throwing the occasional retreading manuscript out from behind a sky-touching pile of money-sacks.