ass-lazy tropicana of the mind
new / old / about / reading / rings / guestbook
2002-01-10
Love comes with terrible cover art
I'm a wreck.
No, really, today, I am. Dressed in my raggedy Babylon 5 shirt and jeans, teeny tiny socks too small and too thin for the cold weather, every single bone in my body seeming to ache, exhausted beyond belief, and a huge fucking bruise on my knee from when I fell down on the bus today.
I'm classy.
And I ripped the hell out of my shoulder the night before last and I don't know how. It freakin' hurts.
But last night was a surprisingly good night.
I got my Christmas box from my mother, and I was expecting more of the same from our anniversary box -- strange Christian mystery/paranormal novels that read like no decent publisher would accept them.
But, no, my mother put in something that I hadn't expected her to remember.
See, when I was...12, I think. Possibly 11. Definitely preteen/teen. I was a fan of Janette Oake.
She writes these historical Christian romances -- always set in the "wild frontiers". They read like big tv miniseries, but with absolutely no sex and at least one conversion per series. Or, actually, at least a few paragraphs where the main character discusses God. At least.
So I had piles of these books. The entire series about the woman who married a man because her husband just died and he needed a mother for his little girl. The entire series about a woman with her Mountie husband in the wilds of Canada. The entire series about a family during the Great Depression. Oh yeah, I was hooked.
And then, one day, my mother boxed up all the books, and donated them to her church. Without asking me about it.
(Of course, by then, I think I had moved on to VC Andrews [talk about a change!], but, still. My books!)
So in my Christmas box from my mother, I find...
The first four books of the "Love Comes Softly" series.
The series where the young pregnant widow marries the young attractive widower because he needs a mother for his toddler daughter. The series where everyone seems to have umpteen kids and good behavior and good Christian love.
I read two books in four hours.
They're just so...brainless. You can sit there and read them and enjoy them and you don't have to think, you don't have to critique or anything, you just sort of sit back and enjoy. A blood-temperature bath, watered down orange drink, that sort of thing.
Beige. They're very beige. Tucked into the background and you don't really notice them, but, god, you love 'em.
Of course, I do have some problems with them. For one thing, the cover artwork is just plain scary. It's your traditional polite romance covers -- woman, baby, man, covered wagon, but the men don't really look like men...they look like women with short hair. Bishouen boys. Which just adds a level to the story that I don't really want.
And I didn't realize this when I originally read them, but everyone talks in dialect. Which, okay, they're frontier folk, but dialect usually starts to annoy me after awhile. I can deal with dropped "g"s, I can deal with the occasionally half-a-word, but, god, all the "ter" and "dad-blum" is driving me mad. At least she didn't use "Ah" for "I," which is when I really go "Enough!"
Oh, and the women are stunningly traditional. I like to sow, I like to cook, I like babies, and I like my role in life. Which is to be expected, but does get rather bland.
Bland bland tepid drivel. That I love.
I just have to remind myself that I only have four and therefore devouring two more tonight would be a bad idea. Not to mention that I'm still slogging through The Return of the King.
But, god, I'm entertained. What a fabulous Christmas present.
Jeez, I'm wiped out. I have three and a half more hours of work, and then miniature painting tonight, and I'm positive that the second I get home, I'm going to be falling into bed, dead to the world.
And I know, I know, it's my fault. I was the one who stayed up late two nights in a row (one night being Agony Aunt to a friend and last night reading those damned Janette Oake books), but it wasn't like I was staying out all night clubbing or whatever.
Right?
Yeah, right.
visit other places: dymphna.net / livejournal / wish list
joined: diary reg / diary crit / diary review / tiki reviews / gblog / little queer / hit or miss / mac-made / btjs:cordy
designed february 2002 by kate bolin, dymphna.net design. space provided by diaryland. looks best in ie5+ on a macintosh, but that's unsurprising, isn't it?