I’ve rediscovered how much I like Rosamund Pilcher novels this winter. But they can’t be read without some patience for scene details, backstory, and repeating conversations between characters who enter a room and need to be brought into the picture. While it was cold and raining last weekend, I wanted to move a comfy chair right next to our fireplace and savor the book, Winter Solstice, in a manner that was lifted right from her pages–minus having a dram of bitters because, well, I don’t like the taste of beer. Since her books are lovingly set in Scotland, words like “wee little one” and “my duck” or “my darling” have been creeping into my mental vocabulary. I’m sure I’ll embarrass my husband when a bit brogue leaps into my conversations.
Do you get involved in the author’s world that you find that you want to inhabit there for a while?
Those are my favorite novels–the ones that are like a mental vacation. Hope you find pleasure in reading this winter, and discover an author that invested in their imagined world.