My friends I made the Star Trek dress for aren't the only people I know expecting this spring, so now I'm working on a more traditional baby gift: a snuggly basketweave blankie:
The book is Georgette Heyer's "The Reluctant Widow". Despite its generic cover, it's quite good. A bit of a send-up of Gothic novels (always fun), a bit of an intrigue, a lot of a likeable heroine valiently making the best of the bizarre situation she finds herself in . . . as this review points out, Heyer's so good that even her implausible novels are a lot of fun.
And good and fun is exactly what I'm in the mood for right now. I'm busy tearing apart my own fiction down to the raw materials and building it back up again, and I've found the task leaves me in no mood for any novels except old favorites. Heyer, Bujold, Lewis . . . that's about all I want right now: just the really, really, really good stuff. I'm so annoyed at my own faults, I've no patience left for anyone else's.
That sounds terrible, but I guess what it is is that when I read for fun I want to read something that doesn't ring my Editor Alarms at all. And when I read the people like Heyer . . . I can just relax. There's nothing in Heyer's books - or Bujold's, or Lewis' - that I would even think about wishing I could change. I open up one of their books, read the first paragraph, and let out a sigh and feel my shoulders slump in sweet relaxation. Perfect. In the hands of a master. BLISS.
What's doing it for you in the literary world these days?
More yarn-and-book-ish goodness can be found here, at Ginny's blog, Small Things.
Peace of Christ to you,