I have a whole new respect for romance novels. I confess I used to be in the "Love Inspired" book club that a certain critique group of mine (not naming names) thinks is less than stellar. And when you read some of the descriptions they put through....Oh, my. But, a book with a pink car on the cover and a purple spine has a tendency to strike my fancy, being the chick-lit reader that I am.
This was a fun book. Very well written.
You know, writing has ruined reading for me. I used to pick up a book, read it, either like it or not, and feel like I'd accomplished my goal: escape (relax for those of you that think escapism is sinful). I especially enjoyed what I called mindless reading. Jeanette Oke comes to mind. No offense to the authors of those mindless reads, it just mean that I didn't feel like I had to work to read it. Mostly simple or simply-complex sentences. Smooth plot line. Predictable maybe, but enjoyable. Such are the love inspired. You know they are going to end up together because they must have a happy ending and the two people that fight throughout are the two that end up together, hence the aforementioned "romance."
Now I read a book. Note how many passive words I find. Note whether the chapter ends on a cliff hanger so I feel compelled to turn the page. If there is a rule about it and it is broken, I note it. Note to self: check out whether this publisher takes unsolicited subs because if this what they are printing, surely I have a chance....You get my drift?
So, predictably, I picked up Debra Clopton's book The Trouble With Lacy Brown and expected to "go to work." Not so. I got totally lost in the story.
kudos Debra. Either you didn't break the rules, or you wrote such a cute story I forgot to notice. Either way, I say "You Go Girl!" I'm looking forward to the next two trips I'll take to Mule Hollow.