Things read, seen, listened to and experienced.  This what the deal is. 
by Vonetta Booker-Brown

Love Don't Live Here Anymore, Denene Millner & Nick Chiles

I’ve been fans of the husband/wife author duo Denene Millner & Nick Chiles for a while; so of course, my interest was sparked with the release of their novel, Love Don’t Live Here Anymore. Told in their trademark he-said/she-said approach, it’s the story of Randy Murphy, an advertising exec, and his wife Mikki, a successful bridal designer. On the outside, they’re the picture of buppie success nestled snugly in a fierce Brooklyn brownstone.  But on further inspection, all’s not well in paradise; Randy’s off in Paris trying to climb the corporate ladder, and Mikki’s not too happy about being left behind and open to temptation very close to home (as in ol’ boy’s best friend). Other issues that they were already struggling with combine to threaten the end of Randy & Mikki’s marriage. Can it be saved? And what did I think?

I will give LDLHA credit for this:  The woman wasn’t automatically made out to be the good guy while the man ran buck-wild in all his trifling glory.  Interestingly enough, I found this book intriguing in part because of the extreme dislike I had for Mikki.  I hate to sound harsh, but...she was a royal bitch, kids.  Although Randy wasn’t a total angel himself (Mikki was messed-up, but he could have at least let her throw on some sweats before he threw her out the house in her draws!), I was not feeling this chick at all.  She had a very stank attitude the majority of the time, in situations where it wasn’t necessary.  Her dry response to her husband’s love-letter email in the book’s beginning?   You didn't have to go there, Mik. (Geez, the man was pouring his heart out--who gives a fat rat’s behind if it was in email form?)  Sleeping with her husband's best friend?  Ho.  (I also felt that the best friend got off a little too easy at the end.)  And for such a dedicated fashion entrepreneur, Mikki didn’t seem to like her clients very much, with the catty little comments she’d make about them to the reader behind their backs.  (I wonder if girlfriend would have still gone into debt over that wedding dress if she knew how much disdain Mikki held for her!)  I also couldn't help but wonder why the couple’s other problem areas (such as their disagreement on when to start a family) weren’t discussed before they tied the knot. It seemed as though they jumped the broom and then looked at each other and said, “Oh, right—the ‘kid’ thing.” 

I did enjoy the husband/wife counterpoints (which works, in my opinion, for all the Millner/Chiles books), and I thought LDLHA was a real eye-opener in terms of showing the realities that are possible in marriage instead of simply sugar-coating things.  But there seemed to be something missing in terms of making me really care what happened to Randy & Mikki.  I hate to say it, but several times during the book I was like, “Oh, just end it, already!”  Millner and Chiles’ next yet-to-be-released novel, In Love and War, is a sequel of sorts, focusing on the life and romance of Mikki’s sister, Zaria Chance.  Perhaps I'll like her better.  I’ve always liked the “sequel-focusing-mainly-on-the-last-book’s-minor-character” concept, so I’ll check that one out and get back to you soon.

Runteldat, starring Martin Lawrence

In the new concert flick Martin Lawrence Live: Runteldat, the oft-embattled Lawrence makes no bones about how much he “hates” the critics he feels have had it in for him since Day One.  Well, I saw Runteldat on its opening night—and Martin, you’re really going to hate me after this...

What did I think of it?  Let's just say I wanted to "runtel" the theatre manager "dat" I wanted my damn money back.  I haven't left a theater that disgruntled in a while. 

The thing was, I'd heard some not-so-good feedback prior to seeing the movie, but no--I failed to heed them, thinking, "He’s trying to make a comeback, so let me go support the brother."  Just trying to give Lawrence another chance, I guess.   That being said, I wanted to like this movie, people.  I really did.  I yearned to laugh.  But I just couldn't do it, save for a couple of chuckles here and there.  That's all the movie gave me.  Even the 9/11 jokes just sounded really dated.  After a while I just gave up and sat there in a cheated daze.  If I'd been alone, I would have left.

The unsettling thing about Runteldat is the contrast between this movie and Lawrence’s earlier material.  I used to always be able to count on Marty-Mar to make me laugh; however, in this flick, he doesn't even seem focused at all.  He took forever and a damn week to set up his jokes, he rambled incessantly at times as though he couldn't quite get his thoughts together, and when he finally did manage to stumble across a punchline, it was like, "Um....okay."  In addition, the whole "my life, my struggles" mini-documentary thing in the beginning was really depressing.  I love Donny Hathaway's "A Song For You," but the truth is, I came to laugh--hearing the melancholy classic then just kind of brought me down.   I guess it was one of those times where I should have just listened to my intuition and initial reaction from the not-so-funny previews. 

The Verdict:  Now I understand the one-star ratings.  Save the $8.50-$10 and go get your eyebrows tweezed with a dirty nail clipper instead.  You’ll have more fun, and you won’t feel as cheated.

Blind Ambitions, Lolita Files

Files' third novel, (following Scenes from a Sistah and Getting to the Good Part) Ambitions deals with the trials and tribulations of three young women, Desi, Sharon and Bettina, trying to make it in Hollywood.  Only a couple of problems on their end, though (in the eyes of Hollywood, at least)--estrogen and melanin. Which kind of makes it a bit harder for them to get any love in the land of glitz, glamour, smog and palm trees.  The book starts off pretty well--if you're the "artsy" type, you can probably relate to Sharon and her "aspiring actress" issues (you know, the usual--countless auditions that go nowhere, dwindling finances, bullshit "pay-the-bills" jobs, etc.).  Bettina's man-stealing, "ho-ing to the top" issues are a whole 'nother story (honestly, I don't know what to tell you if you can relate to that).

However, I felt kind of mislead by the book's promise of the women having to finally face "the ghosts of their pasts"--perhaps I missed the "shadows of infidelity, abandonment and murder."  Aside from the occasional bout with PMS, they seemed like pretty decent chicks--everything seemed to turn out okay for them. So when the ending left me hanging a bit, I was a tad bewildered (no spoilers, here)--and still searching for that "ooh, girl, did you read that?"-type drama.  

True to the Game: A Teri Woods Fable, Teri Woods

Sheer, intense word-of-mouth put me on to this debut effort about Gina, a young ghetto princess who gets, well, caught up in the game.  Basically, the word was that if I'd dug Sister Souljah's The Coldest Winter Ever (which I did, deeply), then I'd get into True as well.  Did I?  I wanted to--and at times, I did.  Woods paints a vivid picture of drug drama in Philly's Richard Allen projects during the late 80s, but at times the storytelling and set-ups aren't that focused, leaving the characters kind of one-dimensional and certain events blurry and inexplicable.  I'll give it up to Woods, though--she pulls no punches in her depiction of life in the streets, the neverending hustle, and how all that glitters isn't gold (especially in Gina's case)--but with typos and grammatical errors throughout the book...perhaps she may not want to keep it that real during her next effort, or during True's reprint.

Satin Doll, Karen E. Quinones Miller

I must admit, I was kind of skeptical about this book before reading it—was this yet another Terry McMillan knockoff about “sista-girlfriends” who stick together through thick and thin? Yawn.  But having nothing else to do, and not wanting to be a prejudging hater, I cracked Satin Doll open.  And was pleasantly surprised.  This debut fiction effort of Quinones Miller (a former Philadelphia Inquirer reporter)--about a savvy, successful journalist who’s worried that her streetwise Harlem past will come back to haunt her--does have some “four sistagirls” elements in it. But the author dodges clichés and mediocrity with an engaging, witty voice and characters you actually grow to like.  (And speaking of which-- thank God main character Regina Harris is an "anti-victim," for a change.)