





by SB Sarah • Wednesday, May 18, 2005 at 06:30 AM
I got an email from Amazon letting me know that, as “someone who purchased a similar book in the past,” I might be interested in Black Rose, book two of the In the Garden trilogy by Nora Roberts.
There are a lot of mixed feelings about Nora. Some people hate her, some are completely indifferent, and some people really love her. I used to love everything she wrote, and relied on her for unequivocably entertaining reading. If there is a new Nora Roberts within a few months of a time when I know I’ll have a lot of reading time (car trip, plane trip, vacation), I buy it, hoarde it, and read it start to finish.
However, I’m of mixed feelings regarding the Garden trilogy. I’m a little tired of paranormal-Noras. I liked the witch family in the Donovan series (there were four books in that series, which was originally a Silhouette release) and I was ok with the Keys saga, though I got tired of the magic fireworks shazaam-pow-woosh effects without an explanation as to how the characters knew they had it or how to use that magic.
But the ghosts, spirits, and otherworldly characters, particularly the malevolent ones? They don’t thrill me. Particularly Roberts’, as she usually gives them such a backstory and character development.
I’m willing to bet that either Nora or her agent/editors sat down, examined the trends, and said, “We need to access the paranormal market! There have been witches in two series and we’ve been there, done that. We’ve had a few psychics here and there, but we need ghosts! Ghosts, I tell you!”
Enter the Garden trilogy, with a crazy, whackass antagonist ghost who is either marvelously benevolent or trying to kill the characters, and it really isn’t doing it for me. I like Roberts’ books for the depth and the emotional struggles of the protagonists, particularly the men, as I think she writes some fantastic heroes. But ghosts? I don’t give a crap about ghosts. I know the ghost isn’t going to be a permanent part of the entire story, and it’s not like one of the characters will fall head-over-feet for a phantom. The paranormal-Noras are too obvious: ghost has unsettled business, therefore happily ever after for each pair and for the over-arcing storyline in the trilogy cannot be reached until ghost’s business has been dealt with, minutes respectfully submitted, and ghost-to-do list crossed off in the characters’ Day Planners.
Roberts used to write some clever conflicts between the protagonists, too, and inserting paranormal external conflicts puts a burden on her ability to create, knot together, and unwind those conflicts. I like Roberts for her internal struggles, an the heroes and heroines who have to overcome personal stuff as well as interpersonal mess, and while there is always some tracable change, including in the Garden trilogy, the external influence of said ghost takes up way too much time for my taste. Other writers have introduced paranormal elements as antagonists, or even protagonists in one young adult series I encountered, and it didn’t detract from the characters’ development. With Paranormal Noras, the main characters definitely get the shaft as the paranormal elements evolve. In the Garden trilogy specifically, the ghost is almost part of a menage a trios. (Now that would be interesting).
This might be the first time a Roberts trilogy will stop for me after the first book.





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by Candy • Tuesday, May 17, 2005 at 02:27 PM
Our Grade:
Title: Duchess in Love
Author: Eloisa James
Publication Info: Avon 2002, ISBN: 0060508108
Genre: Historical: European

All right, finished my first Eloisa James novel, and… well, it wasn’t painful. It was, in fact, mostly pleasant. Overall, though, I think the book was pretty damn lukewarm because--ah, hell, Sarah said it best when we were discussing it last week: “Early parts of the book were fab. And then it felt like the author had a big, “Uh, what do I do now?” moment and ended up driving the story while she applied mascara with one hand, drank coffee with the other, and changed the radio station with her right big toe.”
The book starts off promisingly enough, then degenerates into a morass of misunderstandings that includes every one of the not-inconsiderable secondary cast of characters. The ending is also one of the most odd, drawn-out resolutions I’ve ever read; it’s almost like watching clowns pouring out of a car: just when you think “OK, the last clown is out, show over” another one hops out, does a soft-shoe then drags out yet another compatriot hidden in the trunk, who in turn reaches into the car and presents to us a midget hidden under the back seat.
Gina, Duchess of Girton was married to her childhood friend Camden when she was only 11 and he was only 18. Why exactly they had to be married remains a mystery to me. It’s all incredibly silly: Gina is illegitimate, the product of her father’s liaison with a hot French countess (gotta love those wacky, slutty French countesses). She was unceremoniously dumped at his household when only a few weeks old because the countess didn’t want to be burdened with a child. Her father and her stepmother decided to raise her as their own, and the secret is quite neatly kept until she’s 11, when a blackmailing letter arrives out of the blue threatening to out Gina’s bastardry.
So what do these seemingly rational adults do? Well, Gina’s stepmother’s brother—then the Duke of Girton—calls his son, Cam, down from Oxford to marry the 11-year-old he’s known as his first cousin all his life. How or why this averts scandal or foils the blackmailer completely escapes me, but for whatever reason it worked. Maybe the tactic was so outrageously silly that poor blackmailer was confused and reckoned he’d better stop demanding money from a bunch of lunatics.
Unfortunately, Cam is so outraged by the whole business that he literally leaps out the window after the ceremony (yes, this is indeed a silly book, and the more I have to recount the plot the sillier it seems) and runs away to Greece, where he is free to follow his heart’s desire: sculpt naked women out of marble.
Eleven years down the road, Gina falls in love with Sebastian, Marquess Bonnington, and writes to Cam requesting an annulment. Cam decides to be a good sport. He’s quite fond of Gina, after all, and has kept up a correspondence with her all these years; he just doesn’t want to be married to her. So he returns to England to file the papers. It seems simple enough—that is, until he meets Gina at a house party.
Oh my, the little girl has filled out. He finds himself attracted to the lively, somewhat dashing young woman Gina has become. Then he meets her fiancé, Sebastian. He very accurately classifies him as a prig, and he rapidly realizes that the two of them will be miserable together. Gina is coming to the same realization as well. Sounds good, right? But there are so many obstacles in their way…
Oh, wait. There aren’t. But this doesn’t stop them from manufacturing a few from thin air, of course.
And then there are the secondary romances. First of all, there’s Gina’s friend, Carola Perwinkle. She has been estranged for years from her husband, Tuppy. Why? Because losing her virginity hurt. Oh, and because Tuppy likes to fish and talk about fishing. No, I shit you not. Boiled down to its essence, these are the two reasons for the estrangement. Carola abandons Tuppy in a fit of hysterics mere days after wedding, then in a series of increasingly silly misunderstandings, pushes off the possibility of reconciliation further and further.
Their eventual reunion is sweet enough that it made me go “awwww,” but it also left me feeling incredibly depressed because I just absolutely KNOW Carola is going to pitch a shit-fit over something inconsequential a couple of days down the line and poor Tuppy will be too thickheaded to figure out anything and she’ll just end up moving out in a huff again and really, when I think about Carola all quivering and teary-eyed YET AGAIN I want to bawl out of sheer exasperation myself.
And then there’s Esme Rawlings. You know how in a group of fictional girlfriends there’s always the smart one, the stupid one, the tomboy and the slut? Heh. Anyway, Esme and her husband, Miles, have been estranged for years and years, though for much better reason than Carola and Tuppy: Miles is much older than Esme, and he meets and falls in love with a woman he’s much better suited to after he’s married. Esme has quite the reputation for being a heartbreaker and harlot du jour, though of course it’s quite exaggerated. So guess which completely inappropriate hunka burnin’ love she longs for. Just guess. To give James due credit, she gave plenty of clues but I still didn’t see it until it was right in front of me.
But man, the showdown between her and her light o’ love (I understand their love story becomes a running theme in the three books that follow Duchess in Love) towards of the end of the book just about takes the cake for Dumb Misunderstanding. Ah well, at least the author puts a fresh new spin to it, instead of resorting to conniving parents, cross-dressing and/or long-lost brothers with criminal tendencies.
Oh, wait, scratch the last one, because believe or not, there IS one of those in this book, though he doesn’t belong to Esme, and he doesn’t really cause any misunderstandings. Why exactly he’s in the book at all is a mystery, but then why anything is in this book tends to be pretty enigmatic on the whole, so why mess with a system like that?
The only reason why this book doesn’t dip right into the D range is because of the extremely engaging characters. Gina, Cam, Esme, Sebastian, and yes, even Carola and Tuppy are adorable and fun to read about. Just when I think that, say, Gina and Carola have shot right into the stratospheric heights of stupidity, never to return, they redeem themselves and figure shit out. Or at least Gina figures shit out; Carola just whimpers about how chubby she is and quivers like warm jelly, which, come to think of it, pretty damn well represents what’s sloshing around in her brain box.
So in short: a very entertaining book on the whole, though the plot is… frantic? Yes, frantic and somewhat incoherent. Again, not unlike Carola. Hmmm. I do have to give it this: I did keep turning the pages very briskly just to see what the hell else was going to happen. I just wish I didn’t get the sense that while writing the book, James had a huge wheel in her office labeled with every plot contrivance known to literature (and a few new ones she made up on the spot) and that every 55 pages or so she gave it a vigorous spin, just to keep us on our toeses.





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by Candy • Tuesday, May 17, 2005 at 06:14 AM
My RTB column is up today, my pretties. I called it “I’ve been told you’ve been bold with Harry, Mark and John.” Check it out NOW. So goeth the bitchly decree.
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by Candy • Monday, May 16, 2005 at 09:36 PM
This has nothing to do with romance novels. Repeat, this has nothing to do with romance novels.
BUT OH FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST THEY’RE FINALLY RELEASING THE ADVENTURES OF PETE AND PETE ON DVD SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
In case you are uninitiated in the wonder that is Pete and Pete, this is how very fucking cool they are: one of the episodes has Iggy Pop in a cameo playing a mild-mannered suburban dad.
THAT is how very fucking cool Pete and Pete is.
Now all they need to do is release Rocko’s Modern Life on DVD. Do you hear me, Powers That Be at the Great Orange Splat?
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by Candy • Monday, May 16, 2005 at 10:31 AM
Romance novels suffer from the worst, most sloppy (possibly non-existent) copy editing I’ve ever encountered. This was rammed home during the weekend when I was reading White Tigress by Jade Lee. The hero’s father’s name is Sheng Fu, yet it switches back and forth between Sheng Fu and Cheng Fu with dizzying frequency in the middle of the book. The family name also briefly changes from Cheng to Chang. And in one spot, something which clearly took place during the night time is referred to as having happened during the day in the next chapter.
This isn’t the only romance novel with this sort of problem. I bitched long and hard about the huge honkin’ continuity mistake in Sally MacKenzie’s The Naked Duke. The villain’s eye color switches from tawny to blue in Loretta Chase’s Mr. Impossible. In Taboo by Kathleen Lawless, the hero and heroine allegedly spend a week together but the book clearly covers only four days, with no “And then three days went by in delirious humpalicious bliss” to account for the disparity. And I’ve seen the words “feisty” and “chaise longue” mis-spelled more often than I can count.
These problems aren’t entirely the fault of the author. I can dig that proof-reading tens of thousands of words isn’t the easiest thing in the world to do, especially when you don’t have the requisite distance from the work to look at it with fresh eyes and you have to make extensive edits that require shifting the timeline around. Hell, I have trouble proofreading these 500-1500 word articles I bang out; I catch typos from old entries all the time. But that’s why authors have editors, no? Editors--copy editors, in particular--are supposed to catch problems like these. If a casual reader like me notices these issues, why the fuck aren’t the people who are actually being paid to pay attention to nitty-gritty details?
Sloppy editing only feeds the accusations that romance novels are sub-standard, and really, when routine words are mangled, character attributes change magically from page to page and the timing for events doesn’t obey time’s arrow, it’s hard to argue that romance novels are just as good and just as professionally-written as other varities of genre fiction. The publishers need to make the horror stop. Can’t these publishing houses afford to hire a team of decent copy editors? Leisure and Zebra seem to be the worst culprits when it comes to mind-boggling sloppiness in editing, but other companies certainly aren’t exempt.
There. My first blog entry after my mini-vacation, and it’s all pissy. Did y’all miss me?
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