December 17th, 2004

Their Secret Baby

That's the title of a book I'm reading.  It's by Kate Walker, and apparently it is her 40th full-length romance.  That's prolific writing!  I'm half way through, and I'm liking it much better than the last romance I read.  Maybe they're growing on me!  Or maybe I just like this author better.  Her characters' psychology seems more real to me.

I met an intelligent young woman recently who mentioned that she likes reading romances.  She called them "trashy romances," so maybe she feels they are a "guilty pleasure," but my thought is that if you like them, then they fulfill a need for you, and that's all good.  I mean, look at Shakespeare's comedies and see how many of them follow the "romance novel" pattern - lovestruck couples, misunderstandings, and then marriage and happily ever after.  It's a mythic template.

How on earth did I get started reading romances?  A psychologist friend asked me if it was Elizabeth Warren's book that got me going on the "Chick Lit" theme. I don't know.  Maybe.  It's a good theory.  Okay, from now on, I'm blaming Elizabeth.  She made me read stuff that men aren't supposed to read!

Rhyme of the Day:

It's good to take responsibility
And pin it on someone else - not me!