Flight into Fantasy

Hi, Internet,
I’ve not exactly been in a reading slump so much as I haven’t read anything inspiring lately. I’m in the middle of a couple of books I really enjoy, but I always seem to find other things to do that don’t involve picking them up. Which was why I was quite pleased to see that some kind soul had scanned a whole bunch of recent Harlequins and put them up to be proofread for Bookshare. Harlequins are quick reads–I could read one in an afternoon without working hard, and you never know what you’re going to get. Especially given the fact that Harlequin’s marketing strategy largely involves taking any semblance of mystery away from the reader via their horrendous titles.

The book I picked to read had a horrendous title, though I passed up several other choices that were worse. And, surprisingly, I found Plain Jane and the Playboy by Marie Ferarella to be a pleasant read. It’s not so earth-shattering that you should all go buy it right this second, nor was it as awful as I always expect Harlequin romances to be.

Our basic premise is that Jorge Mendoza is a ladies’ man. He loves women of all shapes, sizes, and, apparently, ages. One night, while at a New Year’s Eve party, he ends up chatting with a local teenager and boasts that he can pick up any woman at the party with no effort. So the kid points out wallflower Jane Gilliam and Jorge does what Jorge does best.

For her part, Jane is surprised that a guy as obviously good-looking and charming as Jorge is showing any interest in her. After an explosive kiss, she’s prepared to enjoy Jorge’s attention, however fleeting, until the aforementioned teenager, rather predictably, makes a mess of things. Jorge spends the rest of the book being drawn to Jane without quite knowing why, and, this being a romance, we all know how it will end.

I’m about to pick several nits with this book, so I wanted to start out by telling you what I liked. Firstly, I basically liked our leads. Jorge wasn’t an asshole, and though Jane has her moments of not being very bright, she’s basically a sweet girl. She has insecurities about Jorge, which I thought were pretty reasonable for the most part, given what a player he is. I also appreciated that the romance ran a pretty true-to-life course, with the couple dating and taking time to get to know each other before they fell into bed. I also thought Jorge and Jane had very good chemistry, even though the book isn’t as explicit as many romances.

Now for the stuff I didn’t like. Some of this isn’t Ms. Ferarella’s fault. It isn’t, for example, her fault that I find the pure-as-driven-snow romance heroine archetype to be extremely tedious. Not only does Jane teach kids how to read, but she volunteers in her spare time, reading to kids in the hospital. Gag me with a spoon. Not that these things are unworthy pursuits. I’m just tired of that archetype. And, of course, Jorge finds Jane refreshingly straightforward and honest and kind, unlike the other women he’s dated, which, since there have allegedly been zillions, must mean someone somewhere doesn’t have a very good opinion of women in general. I also found some of the elements that make this a miniseries annoying. There were several POV shifts to random secondary characters including one prolonged scene in which one guy goes through his pockets so his wife can take his clothes to the dry cleaner. Yeah. Clearly fascinating stuff, that. There seems to be a larger plot going on in the series as a whole, but it wasn’t incorporated very well into this story, so, again, it was just tedious.

Then there’s the stuff Ms. Ferarella could control. There was a lot of telling rather than showing. For example, if Jorge’s such a playboy, I wish we could have seen him in action with other people besides Jane. Alslo, though Jane is shy and a bit bland with Jorge, it’s repeatedly stated that with others she’s warm and gracious, but we only saw her with someone else once or twice, when she demonstrated said graciousness. And some of the writing is downright clunky. Jorge compares Jane at one point to Bambi, because she is so gosh-darn innocent. Is Jorge aware that Bambi is, in fact, a male deer? And then there was my favorite metaphor, in which a girl’s hair is compared to windshield wipers. I laughed. I’m not sure I was supposed to.

Overall, this was a bit of a mixed bag. It was a pleasant read with likeable characters, but I could have wished for less input from secondary characters, a more cohesive integration of the long-term story arc, and a bit more showing instead of telling. This one rates a C.

other Opinions

I couldn’t find any. If I’ve missed your review, feel free to smack me with a wet noodle in the comments.