Everyone has been so productive lately, posting every day for National Blog Posting Month...so luckily there will be a lot for you to read other places and you might not notice that hardly anything is going on over here.
It's portfolio week, actually, and as usual I'm a bit behind. I hand it in today, then we're off for the weekend to visit a friend and get out of Mr HSB's way - he's been prepping for a certification exam next weekend, so I've been single-parenting for a few weeks now. He does emerge from the cone of silence at bedtime and usually brushes someone's teeth, which is a help, but otherwise it's all me.
I was craving some respite a few days ago and wandered into the library with the kids. In order to get to the kids' section you walk past a stack labelled "Romance". I usually don't even look at it but on that day, I suddenly realised it had been ages since I read a bodice-ripper and, feeling overwhelmed by responsibility as I was, thought I'd read a bit of escapism for a change. I glanced over at the shelf and burst out laughing at the first title I saw - "Bedded by the Desert King". Of course, into the bag it went, along with the second title I saw, which was, and I'm not kidding, "Bunking Down With the Boss". There's definitely a theme here.
Anyway, I read "Desert King" in an hour or so, squirming inwardly all the while at the horrid prose and embarrassing triteness, contrived dialogue and fabricated conflicts.
Plus there wasn't nearly enough actual bedding.
So "Bunking Down" was next and I actually liked that one a bit more, except it's the difference between eating a cockroach and eating a worm. Better, but still horrible.
Now I'm cracking open The Cellist of Sarajevo with a sigh of relief.
And I'm off to a friend's for the weekend, so I will be continuing mute until at least Monday. On Monday, I've got a few books to show you that I think you'll like.
No ripping bodices, though.
7 comments:
hee hee...this post made me giggle like crazy.
Hmmm...off for the weekend...have fun! ;-)
I don't know who decided that all these "national" months needed to be November. I don't like having to choose between my sweater knitters, my blog posters, and my novel writing. (Novel writing won).
Jasper Fforde. JJJJAAASPER FFFFFFFFForde. Read him. I think you'll laugh hysterically.
We all need a little fluff now and again!! (And bodice ripping, come to think of it....)
Oh yeah, Jasper Fforde is great. But sometimes the odd bodice ripper is fun as well, if all you want is mental candy floss.
Have you read Venetia? (It's by what's-her-name, whose romances you've got a small collection of.) It's not a bodice-ripper, but the prose is excellent, and it's an engaging story with plenty of humor.
Have a great trip!
You made me laugh out loud. There was a time where, once a year, I read a pulp romance novel - just for the sheer fun of it. But I gave it up because I just couldn't take all the heaving breasts and the sweaty brows. In the end I began to think that women just had slightly classier porn than men ... and did anyone ever really find Fabio attractive?
This makes me want to write a literate (and very sex-filled) bodice ripper, just for you.
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