She's the breezy voice on the telephone, bringing life into the lonely days of her elderly clients ... But who's calling Miranda Blue?This was definitely not what I was expecting. It had been described to me as non-stereotypical chick-lit, so I wasn't expecting a Bridget Jones clone, but I was expecting chick-lit and this wasn't it.
Not a soul -- which is the way Miranda likes it. From her sweet, ramshackle house in the middle of Colorado's pinto bean country, she can run her tele-companionship service while steering clear of men. No more sexy, Big City bad boys. No more tangled, short-lived relationships. Just those eager, grateful voices on the other end of the line, appreciating what Miranda Blue does best: talking.
William Wordsworth "Billy" Steadman, a young widower and greenhouse farmer, has been a man of few words. With the arrival of his eccentric and reclusive new neighbor, however, he willingly rises to her rebuffs, determined to interact in the flesh while bantering his way to her heart. Now he's spoiling her dogs. She's feeding his fish. And if they'd just let each other in, together they might find a little of that precious, elusive commodity called happiness.
This call's for you, Miranda Blue. Pick up!
This, to me, read more like literary fiction. Of course, there are as many concepts of what the difference is between literary and genre fiction as there are people making the distinction, so I don't suppose everyone will agree with me here. Just to be clear, I'm not saying it was better or worse for this, it just was different.
The main point of the book didn't seem to be the story, but the writing and the message it was sending. This threw me a bit at first, but once I got into the rythm of it, I did like the book, though at times I did get a bit tired of the way nothing seemed to happen.
The characters have some very interesting aspects, and there's a nice romance here, especially in the last part. My grade: B-.
No comments:
Post a Comment