So where's the snow?

Muddling through in Austria, God and life, teaching and gardening plus the occasional cow

Chik-Lit for Foxy hens

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I am loath to write a negative review, but was so disappointed by this collection of short stories, I feel I must.  The title had me expecting something funky for ladies who are technically a bit too old for the real Chic lit generation.

I’m afraid I didn’t get into past the first few pages of the third story.  Those I did read seemed formed from a wealthy, complacent ideology (I could do a literary analysis of why I think this, but don’t think I have any insomniacs reading this).  I try to be aware of my own as I read and of course this coloured my reaction.  However, the first story just didn’t work, the man who walks into the heroines life is unbelievable and that a dying man would accept his man as his replacement (that’s the presumption), just didn’t gel.  Likewise  in the second story when a woman is going to leave her unfaithful husband and then sleeps with him for several weeks before she leaves, even setting a date to go,  just didn’t read plausible. In her new life,she conveniently takes up with the help. This and the unbelieveably unfaithful husband had me binning the book before I got any further.

I didn’t need to know about the writer and their achievements before  I read their story either – that smacked of self-satisfaction.

This was such a chance to write some funky love stories but it was all the dreary round of divorce/death and meeting  a second love , what a shame. I  do apologise if I did miss something new and original and funky, but I think not.

Lady writers, being in love in your forties and fifties doesn’t always involve infidelity, death and angst.  Think and get our of your boxes!

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