I tend to hate girly things. Well, maybe hate is a strong word, but when given the option I tend to favor the non-girly choice. On Thanksgiving, I do everything in my power to stay out of the kitchen and be near the designated football watching area. And yet, I love to bake. I also love sparkly things and boybands so maybe I do like girly things. I don't know. Either way, romantic sappy chick lit is not my cup of tea.
I picked up The Friday Night Knitting Club because I have a problem leaving a used bookstore without buying something (alright, I am a girl) and because my reference professor told us it was a smart move to acclimate ourselves to other genres. I assumed I would have to struggle through it and that it would be all sappy and tear-inducing forced drama tied together with a weak attempt of using the knitting club as a mechanism for knitting the women's lives together. I was right.
But I loved it and I have no idea why. The whole time I was reading the book I was thinking YAY KNITTING! It's like how watching "American Ninja Warrior" makes me want to be all athletic. The book tries to overly force the idea of knitting being a pro-feminism hobby and throws in just about every cliched horrible thing that can happen to women in there, but it works somehow.