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Friday, November 27, 2015

What secret asian girl is Reading

Wyoming Rugged by Diana Palmer


Let me start by saying that I am not a reader of romance books as a genre. This is not to say that I have never picked one up and read it; in fact, I have, but it was when I was very young and then later as an exercise at the library where I work. It's not that I don't enjoy a book with romance in it, if it's done well and integrates cleverly into a larger plot but generally, I try to stay away from the genre. However, I was hoping that since this author is very popular and I was unfamiliar with her writing, the book would not be a stereotypical example of what I've grown to avoid.

I was wrong.

Keep in mind that I am not the target audience so my perspective, while honest, is without prejudice to fans who do enjoy the genre. Unfortunately, I don't know how else to write a review except from my own particular viewpoint, so the following is only an opinion, with neither pretense nor apology.

Assuming that most of Diana Palmer's readers are women, I can see where a story like this one is escapism in its purest form. I wish women weren't so hung up on a "Daddy Complex" where they fantasize about a man who takes care of them like a porcelain doll, where every need is taken care until their dad is replaced by a younger (but not much) and hotter version of Daddy. He then steps in to take care of their every need leaving them with, well, not much to do except bask in their adoration and decide which swimsuit makes their ridiculously firm bodies, the appearance of which is always a total surprise to them, look sexier.

Money, is of course, never a problem. Either Daddy is independently wealthy and gives his daughter everything she could possible wish for, or as in this story, she quickly develops a thing for his business associate, who cannot possibly contain his attraction for his co-worker's much younger daughter. Is Dad concerned? Nope. Please, take my daughter and do with her as you will. The "meet cute" of the story is in the form of an attempted rape, which, in my opinion, should only rarely be used as a plot device but is apparently, commonly used in many romance novels. In this case, being saved from an attempted sexual assault is attractive to Niki, the main character, and who (of course) is a virgin. At this point, the word "bodice" was used so I bookmarked it. She never forgets Blair's (of course that's his name) chivalry and vows to save herself for the only man who could ever take the place in her life from her devoted father. Blair was the "reason Niki had never dated." As a parent, this would have concerned me a bit but a health issue was thrown in to explain away the reason a teenage girl had no interest in boys her own age. Blair is described as "chiseled," wearing "designer slacks that clung to his broad, muscular thighs." I bookmarked this as well but was laughing too hard to keep track of all of the similarly written clichés.

Sex. I read an article recently about where a library's copies of Fifty Shades of Grey were tested for herpes and came back positive for most copies. While this book contained far less gratuitous scenes than Fifty Shades, I'm pretty sure that  an alcohol wipe wouldn't hurt. Clearly, this is sex as only a kind of woman would imagine it: A giving, self-less man who is concerned only about the pleasure of the woman. A meek and trusting woman who is ignorant about her own body and her own needs who lets the man take charge with no need to ask for anything because all will be provided. This is fiction not of the real world, at least I hope not. At this point, my eyes were hurting from rolling so much.

More sex. Of course, a woman only lives to please her man and then provide babies for him. Unprotected sex is not only romantic but completely without worry that the man would be anything but over the moon to hear the news. Of course, throughout the pregnancy your fifteen pound (more like fifty, in my case) weight gain would barely dent your rockin' hot bod and would then return to "normal" in a few weeks and your pert little pink nippled breasts will not change at all. Stretch marks and bubble butt...what's that?

I could go on and on but I think you get the picture. Like I said, these books are clearly not meant for me. I don't want to be put on a pedestal and, as a popular presidential candidate says, "cherished." Collectible figurines are cherished because they are breakable. I don't want to be on a pedestal or in a "binder." I worry about a fantasy where women are voiceless, powerless and ignorant. And breakable. In my opinion, women should be respected because we are so hard to break. Or at least we should be.

But these books were never meant for women like me.



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Saturday, November 7, 2015

What secret asian girl is Reading

North Beach by Miles Arceneaux






For me, reading this historical novel was like trying to walk through the knee-high waters of the Gulf of Mexico on a hot day. You trudge for what seems like hours until your calves ache but the shore seems to get hazier and further away the more you walk and you can't see your feet for all the murky, brown water. I'm not saying I disliked it but  this was the longest 268 pages I've read in a long time. 


Okay, the good stuff: the writing is rich with local color and redolent of the sights and aromas of Texas culture in 1962. I didn't get here until 1964 but I'm pretty sure not much changed (or has changed, in some cases). The author, "Miles Arceneaux," aka John T. Davis, Brent Douglass and James R. Dennis, infuses the story with historical markers like Karankawa Indian sites, Teddy Roosevelt's infamous javelina hunt in 1892 or the devastation of Hurricane Carla the year before. All fairly obscure references, unless one is a local or long-time resident of the area. Many of the descriptions of the area exist only in the memories of folks familiar with the nuances of the Gulf Coast circa early 1960's. The atmosphere jibes with my own memories of going to Galveston in the 1960's, driving onto the beach (you could do that back then) hanging a sheet over the open door of our 1968 Oldsmobile and spending the day in the fine sand and clear waters, searching for shells and sand dollars. Reading this book brought me back to those days but they are definitely gone. I loved the memory of Coke floats and crushed shell roads, though. 

Inter-racial prejudices also are reflected in the relationships of the characters, as does the tension between the US and Cuba at the time. I thought the authors did a good job of expressing the fear and suspicion of the time accompanied by the frustration of citizens of both countries as they tried to support their families and earn a living while their governments duked it out on the world stage. The use of Spanish phrases and colloquialisms also lend a dose of reality to the story. The boxing subplot was predictable and of no interest to me so I felt like I had to wade around that to get to the murder story.

Pace-wise, the book reads like a Hardy Boys Mystery with Encyclopedia Brown dialogue, juvenile and often clumsy with that "Hey, let's go visit the girls," lack of sophistication. Not a terrible thing, if it wasn't also followed with some pretty rough language, derogatory racial epithets and sexual situations. In that sense, I'm not sure who the target readers are, hopefully young adult but even YA readers are used to more sophisticated writing. Even the personalities seem pulled from a bag that reads "Scooby-Doo Characters." Naive, impressionable Charlie and his older brother Johnny, charismatic with the gift of diplomacy. Uncle Flavio, aka "Riptide," who "coulda been a contender," the troubled, mentally challenged friend - gee, will he get blamed? - the Bad Guy, who couldn't be more obvious if he'd worn a tee-shirt proclaiming "Bad Guy" on the front and who, I half expected to say at the end, "And I would've gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for these pesky kids!!" Maybe my cynical perspective comes from too much plot exposure but I found it difficult to get into the story with so much cliché overload. Also, I realize the story takes place in the 1960's but I guess I could do without the female condescension of the era. The rape description, I thought, was gratuitously violent, not just for the target audience but unnecessary for the plot progression.

I started by saying that I didn't dislike the book (wow, what does she write about the books she hates?) because I did enjoy the memories of a bygone era and the historical references. I wish it had been better crafted with more faceted, more layered characters. Perhaps it's the result of three male authors collaborating on a macho-infused crime novel but I wish Carmen had been more than just the object of his first conquest. And I wish her mother was more than just a barrier to that goal. What's it like to live and work in a country where you are always the outsider and blamed first? Do you keep at it or just give up and go home? I guess I'll have to ask my relatives that because it wasn't addressed in this book, but maybe that's a different kind of book.