romance

On why more fairies will die

shallowreader 14 Comments

It is a well known fact that every time someone reads the ending of a book before they start – a fairy dies.  I am not making this up. It is true. If you want to know more about the origins of fairies dying you must read BookThingo’s Spoiling a Happy Ending where the whole idea is explained, in depth.

Readers, in general, fall into two categories – those that can’t bear to know the ending of a book, who enjoy a story unravelling around them and read in anticipation of the final moments, and then there are readere who like knowing how a book ends so that they can enjoy the journey without the page turning anxiety of needing to know if the hero and heroine will make it in the end. I am of the latter proclivity. I will read the ending, assure myself that ends in a way that satisfies me and then I will start the journey. It is particularly good for me to read reviews with *spoilers* so I don’t have to read the endings.

In the case of spoilers, a fairy is only maimed. Perhaps a missing limb.

But let me tell you why I am this way:

I started reading the end of books at about 12 years of age. Up until then, for the most part, I had grown up reading children’s fiction which was funny, positively conclusive, life affirming and, in general, a happy read. Then I started entering the world of tear jerkers. Books where you are torn apart with grief.

I remember sitting in Marrickville Children’s Library reading Lois Lowry’s A Summer To Die horrified that Meg’s sister Molly dies. Horrified! Firstly, I was reading and sobbing in a public space that I was not comfortable in. (That may sound odd but, in actual fact, my local library branch The Warren Library in South Marrickville had been closed down a year earlier. I no longer visited the library daily but could go only once a fortnight)…..so anyway….I’m sitting in the corner sobbing with red blotchy eyes but yet unable to stop reading a compelling, touching story.

I learnt my lesson that day. I never again read a book in the library. All books were to be consumed at home. Reading was no longer public.

By the time I read Katherine Paterson’s Jacob Have I Loved I became used to the idea that crying was just part of the story, as were dying people, manipulative relationships and finding your own way in life. To counter-balance these sadness filled novels I discovered the wonderful world of romance novels. And in particular, Mills and Boon.

Short and contemporary, they were easy to hide in your foolscap folder so that your father couldn’t see them when he was checking that you were doing your homework. And best of all they ended happily.

That is, until Anne Weale’s A Portrait for Bethany. In A Portrait for Bethany, Bethany ends up with the WRONG man. WRONG MAN! YES I AM SHOUTING! IT’S IS NEARLY 25 YEARS LATER AND I STILL HAVEN’T RECOVERED. After traumatic Bethany, I never trusted a book again.

So it would have been about…ummm…let say…..25 years ago that I started reading the back page of every novel I read. I read about 100 books a year so that comes to approximately 2500 dead fairies. Now, I did slip into complacency at one stage and stopped reading the last pages of any Harlequin Mills and Boon that I purchased. They were a given Happily Ever After. Guaranteed. The “formula” said so. I was safe! (let’s quickly re-calculate that number. Perhaps drop it to 1800 dead fairies).

Then disaster struck. Late last year, I purchased an auto-buy Harlequin Mills and Boon author, Lynne Graham. Now I adore Lynne Graham’s books. They have incredulous plots with engaging, emotional narratives leading the reader to be enthralled at how she manages to pull it all together. I was on the edge with The Pregnancy Shock but when it ended without closure I was horrified. I would have loved to have thrown the book at my wall but my wall has some lovely prints hanging off it so the floor had to do.

How could the author, editor, publisher, marketing group, janitor and building supervisor do this to Harlequin Mills and Boon readers. How could they do this to fairies? How could they misunderstand the reasons that any woman will tolerate those awful titles and mostly stupid covers is because the HEA is king. Forget Content is King. HEA is the absolute rule here. As romance readers, we will tolerate awful plots, shocking phrases (I’m looking at you Miss Paullina “she looked up at his face but it was as closed as a bank on a public holiday” Simons), ludicrous premises and sometimes Alpha-Brutes that you wouldn’t let approach you with a ten-foot barge pole. We readers will put up with all that for an HEA.

(Please Note: most romances are beautiful, brilliant, well constructed , wonderfully researched, emotionally charged and full of snappy dialogue that would make Al Jaffee proud).

The thing is that since The Pregnancy Shock I now distrust Harlequin Mills and Boon again. I now read their back pages just as I read the back pages of all novels. And sadly, I have come across several that end in an “…there’s more to come” way. And even more sadly, more fairies are dying than needs to be the case.

PS. Should you be a fairy killer and use twitter, remember to use #afairydies.

If clothes maketh the man then the character should be well shod too

shallowreader 1 Comment

Practice Makes Perfect

by Julie James

a shallow reader review

Always assume there are *spoilers*

Now here is an author who consistently delivers well written, contemporary romance novels which are full of scrummy narkiness, scrummy characters and the obligatory HEA. To add to the well written stories Julie James also delivers in the well dressed, well heeled character stakes. And in Practice Makes Perfect the clothing is described is an important part of the image that the protagonists choose to show to others.

Julie James’s Practice Makes Perfect is about two law associates in the last months before they find out if they make partner at one of Chicago’s top law firms. Both Payton (tha chick) and J.D. (da man) partake in snarky one-upmanship and all-round competition against each other.  Their constant bantering makes for fun reading though at times both overstep their boundaries which is where their vulnerability towards each other starts to emerge. Throughout the book they wear corporate clothing that is hand tailored, professional and conforming to the expectations of legal counsel. I felt that their clothes are part of what sets the scene as to the style and tension that is over-riding in this book. The alphamale is capitalised to ALPHA with his Zegna suits, or when going a little casual

“… he wore an open-necked black pin-striped shirt and perfectly tailored charcoal gray pants”.

Yep, I’m one of those women that can sit in the corporate end of town feasting her eyes on those immaculately cut suits. J.D. is hot hot hot.

Julie James slowly builds the tension between the main protagonists until you are on the edge of your seat two-thirds of the way into the book wanting to scream “Will you just get it on!”. I enjoyed the slow weaving of why each protagonist chose their career path and I liked that the majority of the action in the book was in the corporate office setting.

The book did have a few unresolved storylines at the end. But they did not particularly worry me. The unresolved tension between J.D. and his domineering judge father – did not worry me. That Payton never explores J.D’s work motivations – did not worry me. And the sabotaged shoe scene – did not worry me. What did worry me was that throughout the book Payton’s complete outfit is described. Her dresses, shirts, skirts, suits all the way down to the heels of her Jimmy Choos and other stiletto numbers that she wears at work (this goes totally against the grain for me as a librarian who happily dons her flat, stylish yet sensible, Camper shoes). Yet, when J.D. is described, he has hotness trousers, great shirts, growl man ties and suits to die for but his shoes are not mentioned. I reread the book a second time in search for a reference to his shoes and I could not find one. Does he not wear any? Is he shoeless? Where are his Oxfords, Legates, monkstraps or wingtip Bluchers? Where are his John Lobb or Berluti shoes? This omission seems incongruous in light of the meticulously attired J.D.

So please, when you read this fab romance, please, if you catch a mention J.D’s shoes – drop me a line.


Love and the Dead Scientist

shallowreader 2 Comments

“Do you know why you’re afraid when you’re alone? I do. I do.” Vincent Gray

I have recently read 2 novels, both of which had romantic elements and both of which had the female protagonist conducting an imaginary relationship with a dead scientist.

Both books had a great plot, were well written and were engaging but I had trouble dealing with the dead scientist conversation. It was odd. It didn’t sit right with me. I phoned my scientist sister and asked her if she knew any of her male/female scientist counterparts who talk to their imaginary hero/mentor/role model. She told me she was busy and not to bother her with ridiculous concepts. I took this to mean “No”.

The language in Addition by Toni Jordan captured me. The heroine has OCD and is constantly counting. This agitated me but rightfully so as it was able to make me, the reader, understand how the protagonist feels. The protagonist also spends a lot of her time relating her actions back to Nikola Tesla. The dead scientist dialogue is as odd as the rest of the book but it all makes sense as you near the end. The romantic lead totally enamoured me. I liked that he is fashion-challenged, seriously – he wears boaters, and I liked his patience and steadfastness!

In Loving Richard Feynman by Penny Tangey the letter writing to a dead scientist seemed out of place for me. The various storylines worked well and I would recommend this book but I struggled with the concept of a teen finding solace in an imaginary relationship with Richard Feynman. This would ring alarm bells as to my child’s sanity. Nonetheless, the relationships in this book are wonderful and I adored the beautiful ending.

Having come across two Australian publications with a similar premise I hope that this is not going to become a favourite storyline. To me, it made no sense and it detracted from two books that would have otherwise been great. I understand that I am supposed to suspend disbelief and somehow relate to different peoples’ experiences but does anybody know anyone that has enriching and enabling conversations with dead scientists, teachers, Kennedys…..anyone other than the kid from The Sixth Sense?

If clothes maketh the man then they maketh the book character too

shallowreader 2 Comments

Maybe This Time

by Jennifer Crusie

a shallow review


Jennifer Crusie’s latest book Maybe This Time edges into the paranormal activities of ghosts (thank you Jennifer for not bringing vampires into the equation) whilst rekindling a romance that had soured many years earlier. The book is set in 1992 which I found a bit perturbing. It was not long ago enough to be classed as a historical romance but it certainly is not a contemporary romance. It did have a retro feel but must we have another sub sub genre? It did make me wonder if it was the author’s way of not wanting to deal with modern technology such as SMS and the internet for her book (which is fine).

However, the clothes that Andie, the female protagonist, wears through most of this book created a phenomenal mind block for me. On the first page she is wearing an ill-fitting tailored jacket. Why? What would possess any intelligent woman, and Andie IS intelligent, to dress like a bag lady when facing a hot former beau/husband? I didn’t get it, though I know I should get it as her rebellion against the “hero’s” conservatism. Couldn’t she just flip the proverbial bird to the establishment by dyeing her hair pink?

Further on in the book she is described as wearing peasant skirts and tank tops. I cannot shake from my mind a cross between Stevie Nicks and Patrick Swayze. This is not a good thing.

I found it unbelievable that ex-hubby North who is a conservative, button down suit kinda Beta hero could stand the sparkly, sequin Tree of Life woman that was being described. So I improvised. Where the book describes her misshapen jacket, I replaced it with a shapely jacket (no woman would choose to look like shit when they are seeing an ex for the first time in a decade). When her peasant skirt is being described I change it in my mind to a flowing, long skirt.

 

I realise that this is a stupid thing to be bothered about. Other reviewers have found Andie’s lack of care for her young male charge, Carter & and her ignorance as to how men’s needs, both Carter and North, as an oversight in the writing. I don’t agree.  I just thought she was an unfeeling towards male characters. Unlikeable character trait – yes. Writing fault – No.

But when Andie finally dons a t-shirt and jeans just before she does the deed with North I let out a breath of relief.

Unfortunately, despite her reverting to wearing jeans I remain unconvinced that maybe this time the loving couple make it. Because after all that fab sex poor North still has to look at a woman channelling the Nickster.

The Nickster

P.S. Despite what sounds like an anti-Maybe This Time diatribe, apart from the disturbing fashion sense, this book works for me. The creepy ghosts, the faulty relationships and the lack of maturity in the female protagonists which is angering and frustrating all make for a good read. That it takes her 10 years to have a decent relationship and that it takes 2 neglected children for her to finally understand that a person needs to stick around even when they are not the centre of the universe is a revelation. Crusie rocks.

P. P.S I also get that the book being retro you probably think that peasant skirts were hip in the early 90s. But they weren’t. Even then they were ugly.