Wednesday 29 March 2017

Nicholas Sparks Ruined My Life

You know who Nicholas Sparks is even if you don't know who Nicholas Sparks is. He is the man that has imagined the unthinkable, he has construed the impossible and dreamt up the dream. Still have no idea who I am talking about? Nicholas Sparks created the dream man. He is the author behind The Notebook, Dear John, A Walk To Remember, The Last Song, The Best of Me, The Lucky One the list of books to blockbuster-sobbing hits goes on. The life lesson to be learnt post multiple break downs? Nicholas Sparks ruins lives.

2002: My First Nicholas Instalment: A Walk To Remember

It was all going to plan: the understatedly pretty but super awkward preacher's daughter is forced to befriend the school bad boy. She warns him not to fall in love with her, he laughs at her audacity. Approximately 32 minutes and one sultry transfer tattoo scene later, the bad boy falls in love with good girl.


Super sexy butterfly tat babe.

Why couldn't you have just left it there Nick? A further 15 minutes into what you think is teenage bliss we find out she has incurable cancer. Why, Nick, why? The reformed bad boy marries the (now) girl of his dream because its her dying wish and 5 minutes after they run off into the sunset... she dies. I am left howling and bereft on my bedroom floor. Of course what the 12 year old me took from this film wasn't that a life without love isn't a life at all. It was that the super chubby slightly awkward girl could go up to the bad boy and tell him not to fall in love with her and then one swift bibitty-bobbity-boo later I would be the girl of his dreams. This absolutely did not happen. I told boys not to fall in love with me and they replied saying, 'OK'. Cheers Nick, that one worked a treat.


Love me? 

2004: The Biggie: The Notebook 

This is when Nick hit the big time and bore a million Ryan Gosling memes, for who could not fall in love with the perfection that was Noah Calhoun? I mean for fucks sake they broke up and he still built her the house of her dreams with a fucking wrap around porch and blue sodding shutters. How is anyone supposed to live up to that?


This is all I am asking for. 

Instead of dreamy Noah I have Tom on Happn, who seems nice (and by nice I mean kind of normal), he asks me how my day was and what kind of music I like...but he didn't jump on a ferris wheel to go on a date with me though did he? Likewise with Ian the Bumble floater, indulges me in the occasional bants (I let him because he is much better looking that me) and sometimes make me lol. But he is hardly rowing the two of us into a lake surrounded by swans declaring his undying love for me, is he?


FYI this isn't me and Bumble Ian. 

All I am asking for is for someone to stand on a jetty and tell me that they wrote me, they wrote me 365 letters, they wrote me every day for a year and that it wasn't over...it still isn't over. Is that too goddamn much?! Evidently so and we all know who is to blame...Nick.


I'll legit just take one letter. 



2010: The Really Stupid Ending: Dear John 


I was expecting this to be a continuation of the Step Up Channing dream. Basically a banging bod broody bad boy in ballet tights. As predicted Nick had other plans for me. It started off so well, there were a great theme tune, Channing's hot bod was on point, he got deployed to the army and looked great in his uniform. Amanda Seyfriend was likeable and charming you wanted them to be together.


It took me two weeks to find my Oyster card once. 

There was family dramatics but that was bearable because the two main characters were safe, you rooted for them, you rooted for yourself thar cross-continental love was possible. And then what happens? She falls in love with a dying man and John is left alone. THIS IS WAS NOT THE SUNDAY NIGHT HAPPY ENDING I WAS WAITING FOR NICK. YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO. So obviously in trying to rewrite my own happy ending I went on the hunt for my own army man. 10 tequilas later, I found one. He was not Channing Tatum and our cross continental love would have been difficult seeing as his texts culminated in, 'woz gr8 to meet you babe x'. RIP us.


Me after everyone one of these stupid films calling my friends at 3am for life advice. 

2011: My Miley Moment: The Last Song 

Post Hannah Montanna but pre buzz-cut Miley starred opposite now husband (well tbc) in a lesser known Sparks classic. Bad girls meets seemingly nice but actually kinda bad boy. She vows to never date said jocky boy because she's all Doc Martens and attitude. He melts her emo heart by saving turtles (obvs), there is a super long montage feature multiple beach snogs and tree carving situations, she sings Maroon 5 to him in his pick up truck and he falls in love with her super mad skillz.


Is it because I wear Adidas? 

Case closed, the film ends on a mildly positive note? No, don't be silly. Nick hasn't ruined anyone's life yet. Then the dad - a kind of foxy -Greg Kinnear-  who she loves to hate dies and it's sob-city once again. Let there be a light, Nick!

2016: The Nail In The Fucking Coffin: The Best Of Me 

I don't even know where to start with this one. It's told in retrospect which just makes the whole thing worse because you get heart broken in the past and present. The classic recipe good boy from the bad family meets super rich girl with a free spirit. She thinks he's pretty sexy in his wife beater and oil smudged face, so they spend a summer lolling around in a rose field, writing poetry to one another because nothing screams soul mates more than slow dancing in a wild garden.


The montage signs were all there. 

Where the hell is my bad boy writing poetry? At this point I would settle for a pissing Haiku. Inevtiably it all goes tits up because even though the boy escaped his troubled family, they come back to bite him in the ass, and by bite him in the ass I mean shoot the beautiful James Marsden just as he is about to win back his lady. Classic Nick building me up and then TEARING ME DOWN.


Yeah it's been a long time...since there has been a happy bloody ending!

Enough is enough, I cant take any more of these Nicholas Sparks creations of the perfect man that can't live up to real life. Repeat: The Notebook is not real life. The Notebook is not real life. All Nicholas Sparks has given me is heartbreak, puffy eyes and an inability to commit to anyone less than perfect. Well the clock is a ticking I am about to be 27 which is throwing me deep into the Bridget Jones realm of dramatic over reactions and unavoidable spinsterdom.

So sod you Sparks, I am off to find well...anyone that will take me.