Skip to main content

Retro Read

During the holidays, which were not the greatest this year, I decided to get a Christmas-themed book to read, and purchased Return to Christmas by Anne Stuart. I just finished it yesterday before packing up the tree and house decorations, which I'll mark as the official end of all the holiday leftovers.

This is a time travel romance, in which a modern woman, Madison Simcoe, is whisked back to Christmas 1947 via a helpful street Santa and an enchanted revolving door at Macy's in NYC. There she meets Johnny Larsen, a window dresser/WWII veteran, who renames her Mollie, allows her to live in the store and feeds and dresses her while he uses her as free labor. He doesn't believe she's a time traveler, but of course romance ensues. Every other Macy's employee either becomes a BFF or arch enemy, including an Italian window dresser (BFF) and a sadistic floorwalker (arch enemy). The story comes to the black moment when Madison/Mollie is returned to her own time, at which point she must decide which world she wants to live in.

Problems, where to start? While it's technically fine, the story details are messy, repetitive and mostly implausible. As a protagonist Madison/Mollie is weepy, caustic, very unlikable and never had my sympathy for more than a second or two. I got zero Christmas cheer from the book, which I think I was supposed to, via all the nostalgic holiday details. The romance is not much of a romance, either. These two verbally spar for most of the book about the same things, and then have sex, which I skimmed through because Madison's supposedly modern attitudes towards sex killed my interest (Johnny hung in there, though.) Honestly, toward the end I was secretly hoping the Italian gal would get him instead of Madison.

Then we have the time travel aspect. Nothing about this story appealed to my nostalgic side, either, but I'm not a shopper and I don't like NYC or Christmas, so I'll blame that on me. A lot happened in 1947 -- the Cold War got started, Anne Frank's diary was first published, Jackie Robinson became the first black MLB player -- but I didn't see any of that in the story. Saw more about 1947's clothes and makeup and hair, which frankly bore me. I saw a lot of wasted opportunity, really.

What I felt while I was reading is that this is a book the author wrote for herself, perhaps to live in a time she obviously loves, but with little to connect the reader to that love or that time. That's fine -- I've written plenty of stories for myself -- but it's important to remember to include the readers when you write for publication. Take them along for the adventure, and show them something they can love.

Comments

nightsmusic said…
I have not read that one. I think I'll take a pass. And I love TT and Ghosts and most things paranormal. But if the story isn't really there, if I'm expected to fill in too many blanks, then it's not for me.

Popular posts from this blog

Holiday Prep

For Thanksgiving this year we've invited some guests from Oliver's mom's side of the family, so I have to start prepping now to get the house in shape for the big day. The first major thing is having the carpets cleaned, which we've scheduled for next week. This weekend I'll be cleaning out four rooms to get them ready for that. I started with my front dining room, which I use as my sewing room. It was kind of a mess already, so it felt good to get everything cleared out. We'll be having ten people at dinner plus two babies, so this will give me a chance to figure out how to arrange two tables in this space. I think this will be my last time hosting a big Thanksgiving gathering. Mike has started his family with a lovely girl who has a huge, close-knit family of her own, while Katherine will likely be off at grad school out of state for the next several years. I'm also not getting any younger. My guy and I will always celebrate Thanksgiving, but ...

T-minus Day

This was our little Thanksgiving dinner last year, when it was just the three of us. Time keeps whittling down my favorite holiday; this year it will be just me and my guy, and we likely won't even have a turkey.* That will be a first in 35 years. I feel about Thanksgiving the way other people do about Christmas, and while it's a lot of work it's my favorite holiday. Of all the Thanksgivings I've had in the past sixty years, only three were truly terrible: one when I was a kid that I don't talk about (#1 most miserable); the time I roasted two turkeys together and hosted fifteen people whom I cooked for and served with zero help (the largest and #2 most miserable); and the one I spent in basic training (the #3 most miserable.) I have no pictures of any of those, thank heavens. In addition to doing all the cooking I'm the one who takes all the pictures, washes all the dishes and puts away all the leftovers. I suppose no one else cares because to them it...

Fell Off the Wagon

I did cut up that plastic dollar tote to make into something stronger, but got caught up with work and set it aside. Then last night some hand-dyed silk and pretty threads called my name, and, well . . . Felt SO good to do some handwork, except my neck began hurting about an hour into it. I tried changing the way I sit and work, but it's pretty obvious that the doc is right.