In Which I Review It Happened One Autumn

After the Disastrous Christmas Book Episode, I really needed something to remind me why I love Lisa Kleypas, replete with the elements of her writing that make her one of my favorite authors.

I have a strange relationship with the Wallflowers series, in that I have only read one of the “official” books and haven’t quite read all of the “peripheral” books (the Hathaways). I read The Devil in Winter (the third Wallflower book) as soon as it came out, not because I was interested in the Wallflowers (obviously) but because I was intrigued by its connection to one of my all-time favorite books, Dreaming of You. The heroine of Devil in Winter is the daughter Ivo Jenner, the villain from Dreaming of You.

The idea of a book about the daughter of the villain is an awesome one, and Evie Jenner’s life and relationship with the world of London gaming hells lived up to all of my expectations.

A couple of book-sale finds meant that the first two Wallflower books would sit on my TBR shelf for months before the Disastrous Christmas Book Episode. I picked It Happened One Autumn to read first, even though it is the second book in the series.

What the ever loving eff? Well, I’m reading them out of order anyway, and It Happened One Autumn interested me more because of its connection to another of my all-time faves, Again the Magic. The hero of It Happened One Autumn is none other than Aline Marsden’s older brother, the unflappable Marcus, Lord Westcliff.

I suppose that terribly long introduction was to say that I didn’t particularly care whether or not I liked this book, and that’s why its taken me so long to getting around to reading it. All of its connections to other books, seemingly stand alone books, was downplayed to the point that if you had not read the prior books you would not be disappointed or left out of the loop. On the other hand, I would have loved to hear more about Aline and McKenna, would have loved to see them again, though I confess I was mildly placated when we heard about the birth of their son John.

But this book was not about Aline and McKenna redux. It was about Lillian Bowman, American New Money heiress who couldn’t find a respectable husband at home (ah, the perils of nouveau riche-iosity) and so has been dragged to Europe by her parents in the name of finding a titled husband. In the previous book Lillian, her sister Daisy, Evie Jenner and Annabelle (I only know her married last name because she is the subject of the first book. Just be satisfied with her first name, dammit) dubbed themselves The Wallflowers, and are trying to get each other married off.

This sounds rather cold blooded, but it’s not. None of the girls are fortune hunters (in fact, most of their problems stem from the fact that they are too well moneyed), and none of them is opportunistic. They just want to do what they’re supposed to do (get married), and not get screwed over while they’re doing it.

The chemistry between Lillian and Marcus is stunning in that the first part of the book, in which they are separate from each other and reflect on their feelings for one another, is spent with them both talking about how much they don’t like each other. And you almost believe them. Until you remember the line about protesting too much, etc., etc., etc.

When they have their first encounter behind a juniper bush, Marcus’ physical reaction is as surprising to the reader as it is to Lillian herself, and it’s that much more potent for it. The discovery of their mutual respect and affection for one another is a joy to read throughout the book, and it’s a testament to Kleypas’ New Skool writing that when Marcus’ truly evil mother starts to interfere with what she considers to be an unsuitable match, neither Marcus nor Lillian behaves like a dipshit.

Were there problems with this book? Negligibly. Marcus and Lillian are not what I would consider to be comfortable people; as individuals they were each a pain in the ass, and I’m not certain I could put up with either of them for a prolonged period of time. All that meant in the end, though, was that I do not doubt for a moment that they are perfect for each other and have a beautifully balanced relationship.

While these characters and their story were by no means earth-shattering for me, this was a solidly written historical romance, with no eye-rolling and no “who in the what now??!” moments. Devil in Winter is next in the series, but since I’m away on business and only brought Secrets of a Summer Night with me, I guess I’ll just have to continue back tracking and start at the beginning.

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday is Obsessed with NaNoWriMo

This might as well be every post that I write throughout the month of November.

I have had various fantasies about posting snippets from my WriMo novel for your consumption, judgement, and general WTF-ed reaction, but I just don’t foresee that happening.

Mostly because anyone who knows anything about NaNoWriMo knows that after about the first week, nothing you write makes sense, because at that point you’ve just started to make shit up.

Let me back up.

November is National Novel Writing Month. For the uninitiated, this is an insane month, invented and perpetuated by insane people, all of whom think it’s a great idea to write a 50,000 word novel between November 1 and November 30. In case you’re wondering, I finished (“won”) in ’08, but failed mis-er-a-bly in ’09. But I’m winning this year, dammit.

I think.

Anyway, there might be nothing but Thoroughly Obsessed posts throughout November, aimed at my talking through a particular point, making up bits of research that I think I need for my novel (“What kind of research,” you ask? I have no idea yet. Because I have no idea what I’m going to write yet. Awesome, right?) Thoroughly Obsessed is also going to be the place that I post every last ounce of procrastination that I can come up with. Get ready.

The moral of the story is, if you’re a budding writer, a professional writer, a first-time writer, or someone who is insane, I encourage you to go to nanowrimo.org and celebrate your insanity and writerly-ness.

Oh, I almost forgot. Anyone who has anything they would like me to write about (topic? sporting event? character name? type of ancient Egyptian drinking vessel?) please feel free to share. I can’t promise I’ll include it, but I can promise that between word 30,000 and word 39,999 when I’m going out of my mind, it will be extremely comforting to me to know that I have options.

This Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday has been brought to you by the letters A through Z, every word that begins with each of those letters, and National Novel Writing Month. May the Force be with us.

In Which I Review Christmas Eve at Friday Harbor

If I had to choose one word to describe my feelings about Lisa Kleypas’ new series opener Christmas Eve at Friday Harbor, that word would be “disappointed.”

If I had to choose two words, they would be “extremely disappointed.”

If I had to choose three words, they would be “don’t even bother.”

In fact, those were the words I chose when Wendy Pan cracked the cover of the second copy (!!) shipped to our house by Amazon. (Note to Wendy Pan: Let’s plan our pre-orders a little better, shall we?) (And while we’re on the subject, Dear Amazon: When there are two pre-orders coming to the same house, they should arrive on the same day, right? RIGHT??).

So back to Friday Harbor, which actually brings me to a complaint (Yes, this is going to be one of those posts. Deal with it). The entire concept of A Special Christmas Book is full-on craptacular to me. It’s an under-page-sized, hyper-font-sized, way for authors (or perhaps their publishers. Dear Authors: If you are contractually obligated to write Special Christmas Books, I apologize to you in advance) to make buckets of money by having us “catch up” with characters we already know, love, have made peace with, etc.

It’s bad enough when the series are established and the characters are already well-known. It’s inexcusably bad when the Special Christmas Book is the introduction to a new series.

OK, so now we get to Christmas Eve at Friday Harbor (I’m not even going to get in to release dates of Christmas books before Halloween. It’s too easy a target).

The book opens with the death of Mark Nolan’s sister Victoria, and his inherited custody of her daughter, whose name happens to be Holly (Wendy Pan: “Of course it is. It’s a Christmas book.”) Mark moves the two of them into a dilapidated Victorian with one of his younger brothers on a vineyard in Friday Harbor, Washington State.

Cut to Maggie, owner of the newly opened toy shop on Friday Harbor, widow who is Scared To Love Again. Her magical fairy talk gets Holly to speak for the first time in sixth months after her mother’s death. Mark is hooked. Maggie is hooked. There is much hooking (though not in the fun way). (Is all of this moving a little fast for you? Yes? Good. This is about the pace of the book).

What’s really irritating to me is that I dug (dig?) everything about this book. I dig Mark, I dig Maggie, I dig that Holly is neither overly precocious nor overly used as a plot device, and I dig that the Nolans are a scarred bunch with serious emotional issues. I dig Friday Harbor and the small-town vibe. I dig the potential for an awesome three-brother series.

I hate that the series opener left me with this “why bother?” vibe. It was way rushed. It was too short. It don’t feel like I learned enough to care about anyone. To write this review I ask myself “why bother reading it?” But I think the more appropriate question has to be “why bother writing it?” To start a new series? Awesomesauce on a stick, extra crispy. But the way to do that is with substance and length and detail. Not to put out a half-assed Christmas season novelty (pun?) item.

Essentially, I finish my review with this thought: I love Lisa Kleypas, and I love her contemporary novels. If the next Friday Harbor book looks like it has some substance to it (i.e. is as big as those luscious Travis books), I’ll happily buy it, read it, and dive in to the series. If not, I’m going to take my own advice and not even bother.

In Which I Review You Don't Know Jack

This book took me longer to finish than it really should have given it’s length, infinite readability and the amount of time I actually do have in life (ha). But One Day came in the mail. And Community came from Amazon. And two weeks later, here we are.

While I liked You Don’t Know Jack, I’m glad I read it at exactly the pace I did; it would not have been a good use of my time to prioritize it in front of any of the above. The story of Jamie and Jack was a good one, but only the part that was their story. The rest was... meh.

I like books that deal with Fate and the Universe, and I liked that this one opened with a fortune-telling, cross-dressing ex-con named Beckwith telling Jamie that she was going to meet her soulmate over a food-related disaster. When she essentially throws pasta sauce all over Jack’s $300 shirt on the subway, it must be love. Unfortunately the other part of Beckwith’s prophecy, the part about the relationship being shrouded in lies, is true too.

Jack has been pretty much stalking Jamie since he’s realized that someone is embezzling from her place of work (she’s a social worker) and he wants to make sure she’s not involved (he has a crush) before he makes his move against the perp. Jack’s a multi-millionaire, by the way. I’m just saying.

So this is all well and good(-ish). They have great chemistry and great sex and I don’t doubt their being together for one single moment, and though the jump from lusty infatuation to lusty love is a little far and wide, I’m happy to go along with it. Hell, I’ll even be excited about the fortune teller and the intricacies of prophecy, because I’m down with that shizznit. But the rest of the story... yikes.

Something about her dad re-appearing after having abandoned her to avoid the FBI. Seriously. Something about Beckwith having another prophecy regarding Jack’s sister (who’s also Jamie’s roommate)’s marriage. That's never resolved. Unlike the embezzlement plot that is resolved all-too-easily. Sigh. Something about her having “trust issues” that are not really explored except when it's convenient. Something about his family being completely snobby and horrible, and then none of it meaning anything in the end. What. A. Mess.

But I liked it anyway. Once I sat down to read it (over roasted duck... yum), it was a quick, light, engaging read, and I was glad to read a book that bridged the gap between the Erin McCarthy books that I heart, and the ones that I can’t even freaking finish. It was restorative in the hopeful direction. And I’m all kinds of ready for more.

In Which We Inaugurate Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday

So in light of a complete lack of contribution on your end, and a total blockage of brilliance of mine, I hereby dub The Weekly Regular Column to be Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday.

That is, until one of us has a better idea.

I'm totally obsessed with romance novels. Obviously. But I am more than a love-loving fool... I love plenty of other things too. And while this blog is ostensibly to talk about romance novels (or whatever the hell I am pretending to read this week), I have just officially hijacked it for Other Things as well.

I might be obsessed with a book or a character or a movie or a show or a site. It'll depend on my mood. So basically this is going to be a regular contribution of... what I talk about every week anyway. It's just happening on Thursday because that's my favorite day of the week, harkening back to the good old days of Must-See TV and Friends on NBC.

Speaking of, this week I am thoroughly obsessed with Community, that little-seen sparkly gem hiding at the beginning of the NBC Thursday lineup. It's not-so-much Must-See TV anymore, both because we're now in a different century and because reminding everyone of their previous Thursday night heyday is not the right move given NBC's current anemic ratings.

SO ANYWAY. Community. Last year I watched the pilot and the first few eps from Utah, but like so many things in the final months of 2009, it was lost to the chaos of Press Accreditation applications.

What I missed was a steadily growing and improving (perfecting?) ensemble comedy that is one of the finest I've seen since Liz Lemon and her gang first took to the small screen in 2006. The most interesting (and best) part of Community for me is that it is genuinely an ensemble effort. Sure, The Soup's Joel McHale is handsome and theoretically "the leading man," but Danny Pudi's Abed, Donald Glover's Troy, and Chevy Chase's Pierce are in no way his second bananas. Quite the contrary, I'm a little convinced that Abed himself is the true main character of the show.

And of course we must not forget the women, who are genuinely portrayed as... realistic women. They're flawed and can be bitchy, but there's no "slut," or "good girl." Well, Mad Men's Alison Brie plays Annie as an innocent who has to whisper the word "penis," but the girl evolves along with the rest to become a fully rounded and multi-dimensional character.

An aside: In watching the eps with commentary (and they ALL have commentary) there are a couple of comparisons here and there to Gilligan's Island, referenced by the creator and the writers. And ohholyhell is Community the 21st century Gilligan's Island. Jeff's the Captain. Abed's Gilligan. Troy's the Professor. Annie's Mary Ann, Britta's Ginger, and Shirley and Pierce are (albiet not at all married and/or romantic AT ALL) are Lovey and Thurston Howell. Watch it and you'll see. I'm not wrong.

Have I mentioned it's funny? No? Because it's hilarious. If you're going to skip the season marathon (which I don't recommend... not because you can't miss anything, but because you really won't want to) and pick selected episode's before diving in to the still-stellar second season, I recommend check out the Pilot, "Introduction to Statistics", "Debate 109", "Romantic Expressionism", "Physical Education", "Contemporary American Poultry", "Modern Warfare", and "Pascal's Triangle Revisited". All excellent, all worth a look, and all well-placed to give you a general overview of all of this awesomeness.

Well, there you go. The first Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday. Don't tell me you're not excited.

In Which I Finished One Day, And I Can’t Really Talk About It

So in an admirably short period of time following my last blog entry, I finished One Day. And I can’t talk about it.

Have you ever seen the movie The Upside of Anger? In order to explain about One Day, I kind of need to talk about this delightful movie starring Joan Allen. Throughout the film, Allen’s character deals angrily and bitterly with her life in the time after her husband left her for his Swedish secretary. She becomes an alcoholic. She rages. She says terrible things to her daughters. She sleeps with Kevin Costner.

And then, (SPOILER ALERT. FOR SERIOUS.) at the end of the film, it turns out that her AWOL husband did not leave her for his secretary. He’s been dead the whole time. I can’t even explain the tonal shift this lends the movie, and despite the fact that I just ruined the ending, I highly recommend it. The ending is shocking, and suddenly the film becomes a lesson in anger and anger management, as well as the things we would change about our lives if only we really knew what was going on.

Back to Emma and Dexter. Almost as soon as I finished lamenting what a terrible douchebag Dexter was being, he and Emma finally hooked up in the messy aftermath of his divorce from Sylvie. One fateful summer he comes to visit her in Paris (where she’s living to write). They hook up again, and start their lives together in the ensuing years.

Finally in the (book) year 2005, we find out that the husband has been dead the whole time. Well, you know what I mean. Something happens that I will under no circumstances spoil here, and suddenly the entire book takes on a new meaning, a new flavor, and a new depth of emotion that was not even touched upon in the three hundred or so pages leading up to this great reveal.

Knowing this change in retrospect, and therefore knowing the author’s true intention for his book, it would be really hard for me to go back and re-read. At least, anytime soon. It’s going on the keeper shelf, though, if only so I have a copy on hand when I tell people that they must read it, too.

So I’m ending this piecemeal review on a really bizarre note, because I can’t (won’t) tell you anything more about the book. I can’t go into the changes the characters undergo (any of them), and I can’t go into plot twisty twists without giving away the most momentous part of the story.

All I can say is that I highly recommend One Day to anyone who likes “those” sorts of books. And by “those” sorts of books, I don’t mean “romance novels.” I’m not sure I can even classify One Day as a romance. It’s more of a story about the people who come into our lives, and how we can have no way of knowing how they will affect us. The person that you’re saying goodbye to today could have a profound impact on your future. You’ve just got to go with it, and hope for the best.

In the words of all of the Sams in my life, “you never know.”

In Which I Write A Little More About One Day

Yep, still working on this one. Should have the final wrap-up sometime tomorrow. But as I'm sitting here in my obligatory writerly coffeehouse on a Sunday morning, here comes the review for the second third of One Day, still written by David Nicholls.

With each passing chapter, I am disliking Dexter Mayhew more and more. As a character he is super-flawed (not always a bad thing), but he has officially crossed over into "downright unlikeable." At first, following the disastrous drunk-dials of 1993, it seemed as though he was as much a victim of circumstance as his own personality-- a television star struggling for relevance in the '90s was sure to want/need copious amounts of drugs and alcohol in the name of industry. But one would think that after ruining his final time with his dying mother, and then his relationship with Emma, he would have learned. Something. Anything.

Meeting Sylvie seemed as though it should have been his saving grace (the woman is too stern and humorless to tolerate anything like drunkenness, let alone drug use), but instead he's just gotten better at hiding it. In the most recent year, 2000, Dex is left at home with his daughter while his wife goes for a hen night. He gets drunk. He smokes. He drunk dials old girlfriends. And at a certain point I was genuinely afraid that his daughter's life was in danger, if only because of his lack of control of his situation. I'm really hoping that Dexter can pull himself together, because right now I want nothing to do with him and Emma together. He's not good enough for her.

Because for every notch Dexter has fallen in my estimation, Emma has gone up. Sure she had an affair with a married man, and sure she is not accomplishing all that she could in this life, but she is trying. With each year that passes she is making strides in her life; she quits the horrible Tex-Mex restaurant, she gets her teaching degree, she leaves teaching to pursue writing full-time, which is something she has always wanted. Now in the year 2000 she is considered an "old maid," acting as godmother to numerous friends' children, and not particularly caring that she doesn't have a man in her life.

"The problem" between Dexter and Emma is that he has never quite grown up enough to admit the depth of his feelings for her, or to acknowledge the depth of her feelings for him. It's easier to marry "an ideal" (Sylvie), loving the idea of her, than it is to sober up and try to be good enough for Emma. I genuinely hope for Dexter's redemption, both because it would make for a more compelling story (How many times have we seen the heroine hung up on the asshole when there is a perfectly wonderful man right in front of her? Too many. At the moment Emma isn't holding out for Dexter as much as for herself, but it's time to reform the rake or get off the pot, Nicholls!)

One Day is really picking up now that we're nearing the end, and I'm looking forward to a relaxing evening of finishing this thing up (and having a lovely time with a certain Boy Scout). More later.