The way I've typed the title-line illustrates one of the ways in which this novel disappointed me. I was hoping to be entertained, amused and shocked a little by this piece of fluffy chick-lit. Instead I found a deeply predictable, thinly disguised fictionalisation of Britney Spears's spiralling career.
The cult of celebrity is fascinating, if ultimately ridiculous; We know what to expect, but this novel (authored, incredibly, by two writers) quickly becomes tiresome in its relentless roundabout of who's-she-sleeping-with?, what's-she-on? and what-on-earth-does-she-look-like? I began to wish that either the star (Brooke) or her make-up artist (Jackie) would take an overdose or throw herself out of a hotel window with a vast quantity of alcopops in her system. When the inevitable breakdown finally occured I was yawning, not at all shocked and completely fed up with both of the witless women.
Through every chapter, I silently predicted their every Hollywood faux pas, but maybe it was because I'm a 40-something, not a teenaged or 20-something woman... The frequent use of: One. Word. Pieces. Of. Dialogue. By. Almost. Every. Character actually infuriated me. The authors do not pretend to be Shakespeare, but this really is not good writing.
'Pop Tart' is clearly perfect for a lazy afternoon on the beach; book in one hand, Blackberry in the other, Ipod sounds between the ears and mani-pedi gleaming. I read it in one afternoon and felt disappointed that I'd made the effort to prepare a cafetaire of coffee and moisturise my feet.
I'm sure that the 'Chick-Lit' market can produce the occasional gem of a book, but it's taking some effort to find one. There is an audience just right for 'Pop Tart'. Just make sure that you are in the suitable age-group!