I scowl with frustration at myself in the mirror. Damn my hair - it just won't behave, and damn Katherine Kavanagh for being ill and subjecting me to this ordeal. I should be studying for my final exams, which are next week, yet here I am trying to brush my hair into submission. I must not sleep with it wet. I must not sleep with it wet. Reciting this mantra several times, I attempt, once more, to bring it under control with the brush. I roll my eyes in frustration and gaze at the pale, brown-haired girl with blue eyes too big for her face staring back at me...
That's where I stopped.
I didn't even make it to the end of the first paragraph.
That's all I needed to prove to me that Fifty Shades of Gray is as poorly written as many said.
I could forgive that horrible, no good, very bad first sentence. But, what I cannot forgive is looking in the mirror and describing yourself. Avoiding that is in the top ten rules of writing. Maybe the top five. It's lazy, trite and amateur. I would be impossible for me to read this book and the writing not get in the way of my enjoyment.