Yesterday an elderly lady asked if I, “liked hot books?”
“Not really,” I laughed.
She went on to describe this book. I stood smiling at her, wondering what this grandma type lady was doing reading such racy material. She assured me it was a very interesting story. It was well written and she was certain (very certain) that few of today’s writers could write such a stirring tale.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’m a lit snob. That’s right, I am. I love old books. I love moralistic books. I love em’ long and wordy. This is a subject I’ve written about before, so I won’t bore you with further supercilious details on this topic, but I did chuckle when she offered to bring me the book.
She was certain that I’d love it.
I can see the cover of that paperback in my mind; torn bodice, six pack abs, lusty looks passing between the two main characters – snicker.
I’m hopeful she’ll forget she said she’d loan it to me. I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but honestly, I don’t want to read the book. Not to mention, I really don’t have time to read right now. I’m up to my ears in homeschool, work, housework and writing.
The last book I read was yesterday and it had bull-dozers and dump trucks in it. It was a real page turner; just ask Master Smiley who is here during an Army drill weekend. The Tonka Truck book was filled with shovels, gravel, dirt and pop-up pictures. Master Smiley insisted we read it, over and over and over again. No ripped bodices, no heaving bosoms, just hard hats, pipes, scoopers and planks. It’s the perfect read when you’ve got a snuggly little nephew sharing the sofa with you.
Maybe I’ll offer the Tonka book to my elderly friend.