Mom’s Book-club
This weekend, I found my Mom’s book-club notebook where she took notes on 59 books before she passed. I’m going to read and in some cases reread each of the books and see what I think about them compares to what Mom thought.
It being mid-November, I decided to start with some of the Holiday stories from my mom’s list. First up was Christmas Letters by Debbie Macomber.
Although I do enjoy a good Hallmark Christmas movie every now and then, I have to say that Romance is not necessarily my favorite book genre. Here’s how they all seem to go:
- Young, independent, intelligent woman with a job and friends is moderately happy BUT something is wrong in her life and she just can’t put her finger on it, but it’s definitely not a man missing from her life.
- She gets introduced/runs into someone who is initially not her type.
- She doesn’t like him.
- He doesn’t like her.
- There’s a little conflict.
- Until they are thrown together by an event (play, party, date, baseball game…)
- Turns out she DOES like him after all.
- Turns out he DOES like her!
- They spend time together until a relationship disaster happens (complete with misunderstandings)
- Looks like all may be lost.
- But then things are seen from a different perspective and it turns out all is good again.
- Oh NO! Another conflict!
- Truly looks like all is lost.
- She apologizes.
- He apologizes.
- Wedding bells!
Extra points for having this all take place during the holidays.
Christmas Letters does not disappoint. It pretty much follows that universal template. Easy, cute, enjoyable read.
K.O. is looking for a job that will utilize her PR skills. In the meantime she writes Christmas Letters for others as a way to get some money. Her skill is in turning a horrible year into a good one by …. stretching the truth just a bit.
She meets a man who is an author on Childcare. He believes children should not have boundaries and that *gasp* parents should not indulge fantasies like… Santa Claus!
Hijinx and hilarity ensue.
In the end, both are looking for an authentic life based on no lies.
Predictable and cozy like a warm blanket.
Some minor notes on the book:
- On their first date – a celebrity chef makes the new couple their dinner. The entree was “Grilled Scallops with wild rice and tiny Brussel sprouts with even tinier onions.”
I must be getting older because my first thought? That’s taking quite the chance on a first date with a gassy meal like that.
- I appreciated the metaness of this line toward the end of the book – “This man did things to her heart – not to mention the rest of her – that even a romance novelist couldn’t describe.”
- And it took until quite near the end, but I found what I was looking for – “No,” she said. “Love should come first.” She stared into his eyes. “Love changes everything, Wynn.”
And there you have it, the mantra of all Romance writers.
When you come down to it, it’s not such a bad basket to put all of your eggs in.
What Mom Had to Say
Funny Romantic Comedy
Katherine O’Connor writes Christmas letters for other people
Dr. Wynn Jeffries, renowned child psychologist – “Free Child” recommends “Bury Santa under the Sleigh.”
Argue a lot. They disagree in almost everything but still love each other.
LeVonne – neighbor across the hall.
Max Jefferies – Wayne’s father
****
Mom didn’t write a lot about this book. I have some theories.
First, I grew up in a blended family of seven (yes seven) kids. Fighting was daily but was not tolerated. If we fought about what channel to watch, she’d turn the TV off. If we fought about something, anything, we had to figure out how to resolve the issue – without her help.
And if we couldn’t figure out how to get to peace, my dad’s threat of “the belt” always loomed large.
Today that seems cruel and a clear example of bad parenting, but man was it effective in my day.
If we wanted to know what was for dinner – we’d be told “food, and you’d better have your hands washe for it.”
The premise of this story is that the child psychologist who was raised by hippies, wants no restrictions on children. They are the ones in control. The ones who decide what they want for dinner, what time they want to go to bed, etc.
I’m quite certain that my Mom’s eyes were close to rolling out of her head when they were discussing this book.
Nope, we had bedtimes, dinner at 6:00 pm, Sunday morning cleaned shoes, and we were allowed to play in the neighborhood, but when she rang the porch bell, we’d better find our way back home. Quickly.
This is a cute story, but I’m sure my mom was biting her tongue at the ridiculousness of parenting a “free child.” It’s just not something you can do when the kids outnumber you (by more than double.)
As a mother of six and someone who put into action the belief that fighting among my kids was a transgression too far, who got dinner (no requests) on the table at 6:00 (and you’d better have your hands washed as well as be wearing a shirt), who had bedtimes (non-negotiable) for the kids, and yup, who called my kids home with a porch cast-iron bell, I’ve got to say, I’m on team Mom.
