Hancock Poop

So the ever amazing Lindsay lent me her copy of Hancock Park, which was a young adult chick-lit story based on our pretentious, prestigious all-girls high school in an old school affluent neighborhood of Los Angeles. I’m only one page 30 and I already know how horrible it’s going to be: Xanax-taking junior faces a crossroads in her life with her wealthy parent’s impending divorce, her equally wealthy best friend moving across the country and finding herself hanging out with the popular girls in her school. JUST LIKE ME!!!

Wait, except for the Xanax prescription (which seems a little disturbing for a young teenager), the divorce and the best friend. I had seven best friends, mind you. And Asian parents don’t really send their children to therapy, unless something super traumatic happens.

Let me guess. This main character meets boys, goes on a date, finds a hot boyfriend but then finds herself torn between being her true self or conforming to the expectations of her snobby, popular friends? I’m not sure yet. I think that happens on page 31.

Anyway, this book is evoking all sorts of strange emotions inside me, from the gross familiarity of the setting, feeling incredibly old (I am going to be 30 in 2 years….holy shit), complete despair that this now college student already has a book deal while I spend my day talking about what I want for Valentine’s Day and annoyance that this girl’s writing is strong enough to be published. I’m also feeling a lot of aches and pains, but that could be due to the bag of fiber cereal I ate this morning.

Maybe I’ll try to write my own version of Hancock Park, where the main character just studies all day, attends SAT prep classes in Koreatown, never talks to any boys, suffers through braces and a horrible 7th grade science teacher, discovers the Internet, still doesn’t talk to any boys, and then suffers through the whole college application process. There’s real conflict and character development right there, I tell ya.