racist and homophobic behavior, my hobby was somewhat buzzkilled. It was hard to separate the claims from what he was writing. Not only that, but every adaptation following The Notebook sizzles out into the Blandlands.
A lot of people will say his books are virtually the same and I'd agree: they are all about pretty people who are shot with a love-at-first-sight arrow by a North Carolinian cupid. Two people spend two hours or 300 pages in love with each other and don't face the obstacle challenging their true love until the third act. Despite reading the same thing over and over again, there were adaptations I looked forward to - Safe Haven, Nights in Rodanthe, Dear John. Yet every time, something fell flat - either the direction, the acting, the script, or all three.
When I heard last year that The Choice was going to be Hollywood's next victim, my inner fangirl spazzed. Typically, when an adaptation is made, the casting doesn't bother me. I'm all for whoever is chosen 'cause my imagination rarely matches up to how I picture characters or a setting. As far back as I initially read The Choice, my fancasting was finite. It's the type of casting I just can't accept otherwise. So no disrespect to the actors in the film but the trailer makes me shudder. (The cinematography is all over the map. What is up with the black-helmet wigs? And, why does he get all creepy-stalkerish at 1:16?) No - just no. That is not my idea of The Choice.