Year in (Book) Review: Dear John

I'm in a pickle, people. I know I'm going to get a good chunk of you all riled up about this one, and I'm bracing myself for the pickle-throwing storm. That may well be the most bizarre thing I've ever written, but you know what I mean.

I have long since claimed to be open-minded about the books I read. I will happily say I read trash, and I revel in it; I soak it up just as thoroughly as I can absorb my favorite Austen or genius Fitzgerald or any one of those lovable Bronte girls. Just like with film, there's a place for everything. I just watched Rachel Getting Married (Brilliant. Brilliant.) and then Pineapple Express. (Brilliant. What?) I can watch anything, read anything... As Long As It's Well Done.

How, then, do I deal with a blah book, that people happen to love? And there's no doubt that this guy is feeling the love, hard core. By the tens of millions, as women flock to the shelves to line his pockets with more money than God and the Queen combined. (I say with near certainty that no man has ever read a Nicholas Sparks book. Not even the gay ones.)

I picked up Dear John at my sister's house. (I won't say which sister, so I'm not technically outing her.) It violated my first rules of literature, which is to never read a book with movie stars on the cover. If the movie version of a book that I want to read has already come out, I will scour the back of the bookstore until I find the original book cover. But, being the literary non-snob that I am, I thought I'd give it a go. It's summer, and it seemed like a nice, summery romance.

Here's where I will give him credit. The story takes place in Wilmington, North Carolina, and I absolutely love Wilmington, North Carolina. I've been in love there, and had my heart broken there. So far, I'm on board.

That might be kind of it. The rest is ... tepid. I can't say bad, I guess. I've read some books -- not many, but some -- that I fully blame for the dumbing down of America. This wasn't that. It was just a moderately readable story, with mildly interesting characters. I had a really hard time buying into the love story that the book revolves around, not because it was relatively unfeasible (which it was) but because I just don't think he worked hard enough to make me buy it. Two young people fall in love in just a matter of days, and that's it. Now, I am hopelessly, happily romantic enough to want to believe that. But I'm world-weary enough to need some proof that, after a mere matter of hours, two people can find a love that will sustain distance and conflict and, in this case, a national tragedy and a handful of personal ones. It just wasn't there. Sparks was lazy and, I think, a little arrogant in assuming that his readers would just go along with whatever he told them, and however little he told them, without putting in the work to create an engaging, believable, heart-wrenching love. And, clearly, he was right in assuming that, since he's sold roughly a bazillion copies of this book. And the film rights.

I just can't get over the notion that it's simply not that well written. And I'm glad I didn't spend money on either one.

I'm sure I've ignited some sparks with this one -- and yes, my pun was intentional -- so I'd love, truly, to hear from some of you guys that read him a lot.

What am I missing?