In the last week I’ve read Stephen King’s Doctor Sleep and Helen Fielding’s Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy and you know what? Blacklight is right (Blacklight: “I am? Really? About what?”)! Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy is the scariest thing ever. I would rather snuggle with a worm beast thing straight of out of Laird Barron’s The Croning. What the blue hell happened to the Bridget Jones I read over and over again? The Bridget Jones I tracked down UK papers to read?

Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy finds our Bridget as a single mum of two, eating grated cheese straight from the bag (gross) and guzzling wine. I guess the Independent columns of 2005/2006 aren’t canon (Bridget has Daniel’s baby-a son) because Bridget’s son is a miniature Mark Darcy and her five year old daughter Mabel is a lisping little troll who only charms me when she refers to something called a Sylvanian Mulberry Raccoon Family as the Fuckoon Family. Come on…FUCKOON! <Goggles Sylvanian Mulberry Raccoon Family> Ohhh…those…I’ve seen these creepy things at a posh toy and hobby shop… <shudders>

Now apparently the Internet imploded when people found out Bridget is a single mum because *****SPOILER ALERT**** HORNS SOUNDING**** SPOILER ALERT**** READ FURTHER AT YOUR OWN RISK*****OKAY WHATEVER I WARNED YOU***** Mark Darcy died in Darfur doing humanitarian work. How is this a problem? Mark Darcy has always been a decent and kind person and a happy relationship makes a boring book. Am I sad that Mark Darcy is gone? Yes. But Bridget Jones is the Queen of Romantic Bleep-Ups and is at her best looking for love, she NEEDS to be single. If you want silly mum with the perfect husband please feel free to stop reading this review and pick up Sophie Kinsella’s Shopaholic series.

Okay, so you’re still with me. So our Bridget is a widow, fat (brace the floors because she’s….175 lbs!), and lonely. She’s also working on screenplay of Hedda Gabbler by Anton Chekov. Now even my dim only reads weird books brain knows that’s wrong but Bridget? Well…what do you expect? It’s Bridget! Encouraged by her friends (where the bleep is Shazzer! I demand Shazzer!), Bridget plots to lose weight, be an excellent mum, get laid, etc. She discovers social media and oh Great Tulu if I thought Lola’s text speak in Marian Keyes’ This Charming Man was horrific, I apologize, I love you Lola, I truly do…because Bridget on Twitter aka @JoneseyBJ is worse. I really wish Bridget had discovered a working brain cell vs the joys of Roxster the youngster. And Roxster? Really?!??! Even Daniel is boring. Sex-On-A-Stick Daniel! Well except when he used a syrup covered fork to comb the tiny demon Mabel’s hair. Good on you Daniel!

It’s really not a good thing whenever you end a page you wonder just how big the advance check for the book was and if the author needed to pay off her mortgage or children’s private school ASAP. I certainly wasn’t caring a fig about this Bridget. Because to me, Bridget Jones Diary is awesome. The Independent columns of 2005/2006 are awesome. I want that Bridget Jones back.

If you adored the first two Bridget Jones’ novels and haven’t cried yourself to tears over dead Mark Darcy, then by all means snap up Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy. But if you’re not in the mood for How Bridget Jones Got Her Groove Back then do what I should have done at the library last week, back slowly away from the “F” section of the New Fiction Shelves and grab  the latest Lauren Willig Napoleonic-Era British spies book.