If I turn on the TV to find one more adaptation of a Jane Austen novel I will scream and scream until I'm sick.

For the life of me, I cannot fathom what people see in these lavish, yet utterly tedious dramas. To me they are the nearest thing to watching paint dry.

I recently made the mistake of attempting to watch Mansfield Park - partly because, as usual, there was nothing else on but the 1,000 Greatest TV Blunders and The World's Most Scary Police Chases, and partly because it was set at Newby Hall, where my family are frequent visitors.

Within 10 minutes I was crying out for something else. Anything else, even TV Blunders.

I first came across Jane Austen as a sixth-former at school, where I was unfortunate enough to have Emma as a set book for A-level. I was an avid reader, but it stopped me in my tracks. It was the first time I had read a novel that didn't appear to be about anything.

"That's the whole point," I remember my teacher telling us all (I wasn't the only Austen hater), "It's just how life was for them, the day-to-day trivialities."

Well, day-to-day trivialities do not a good novel make. Were I to put pen to paper and write down all the conversations I have with my friends about men (because, let's face it, that's all Austen's lot do when they're not walking in beautifully manicured gardens, sewing or dressing for a ball) I would not have a stream of publishers beating a path to my door.

The furore surrounding the TV version of Pride and Prejudice (I tried to read the book but could not stop my thoughts drifting to more interesting topics such as whether I'd hung out the washing) was such that I armed myself with ten bottles of gin and attempted to sit through it.

In no time I was having to resist the temptation to pull out my own teeth through boredom.

Watching anything by Jane Austen makes me crave car chases, shoot-outs and explosions. It makes me want to drive to Blockbuster, rent a dozen Arnold Schwarzenegger movies and watch them back-to-back.

And I can't understand all the fuss over Austen's male characters. Newspapers and magazines seem to never tire of asking: Why is Mr Darcy so handsome? What do women see in Mr Darcy? Is your man a Mr Darcy or a Mr Wickham?

Personally I wouldn't go within a mile of Mr Darcy or Mr Wickham. Or any of Austen's heroes.

The latest theory to hit the headlines is that Mr Darcy was strong but silent not because he wanted to appear aloof, but because he was autistic. A Canadian academic has written a book in which she also states that one of the Pride and Prejudice sisters, Lydia Bennet, suffered from attention deficit disorder.

I think the only people suffering from that are Austen fans - they haven't paid enough attention to realise that the books are dull, the characters are dull, the films are dull.

Of course, in the realms of literature, my opinion doesn't count, but I can honestly say that reading Jane Austen almost put me off books altogether.

And I firmly believe that there are millions of people out there, who given the choice of Arnie or Austen, would kick Mr Darcy into touch.