Barbara Cartland

I decided to take a break from my Kindle and read what I term a "diet book."  These are usually mindless romances for me.  Short, they usually don't take me more than a day and also don't use up the normal number of brain cells.

I have to say that Barbara Cartland is an unusual pick for me.  I saw them when I was a kid at my mom's house and have picked one up here and there.  These were written almost at the dawn of time and they haven't aged well.  A few were made into movies, of which I have one simply for the pleasure of making fun of it.  It cheers me on a depressing day.

The woman herself was incredible.  She wrote 723 books.  That's crazy.  They also were translated into like 38 languages.  On top of that, she actually left behind about 160 unpublished manuscripts.  I don't take anything away from her as an author.  I think it's amazing what she did.  It doesn't seem to make them less mirthful for me, though.

Anyway, I picked up the shortest one that I happened to come across and was laughing out loud by the end of it.  The picture of the author on the back cracks me up as she is resplendent in her white gown with her small white dog on her lap.  Besides the outdated language and the stuttering heroine, the book was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon.  I have no idea why, but the women seem to talk like they have to think out each word.

"I...think...that I...might...need to...think...some more."

The heroine talked that way the ENTIRE book.  Personally, I wanted to smack her silly.  I guess that's why I read a diet book only every once in a while.  On the other hand, knowing what I know now about the author, it seems to me that she deserves a chance to be read every once in a while.