My grandmother Ophelia (Felix to pals) liked to read anyone who wrote a lot: Barbara Cartland, Louis L'Amour, Zane Grey, Agatha Christie, and Emilie Loring. I just scored 12 Emilies at Goodwill, and like the other authors mentioned above, after reading one, you pretty much know what you're in for between subsequent covers, give or take a few quirks of character. Felix definitely passed on her junk reading genes to me. The aforementioned authors are all favorites of mine, too. Cartland's breathless virgins and redeemable rakes, L'Amours tall dark strangers and willful Western gals, Grey's spoiled city folk made wholesome by sagebrush scenery, Christie's brave women who eventually find love after falling for the wrong man (usually the murderer). Loring's heroine's are invariably debutantes who show "gay courage' in rough locales like Maine and Alaska despite their silver-spooned upbringings. These authors are soothing reads in the same way knitting (which skill Felix first taught me) is a soothing pasttime. Repetitive, mindless, and fun.
2 comments:
I almost picked up an old Harlequin from the give-away table yesterday and then put it back at the last minute.
Now you just need to learn to read & knit, but you'll need to be a spine cracker for those old paperbacks.
I do knit and read! It's much easier with hardbacks, for sure!
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