The Season by Sarah MacLean
This evening, a listy (listy, not lusty, although really, I could have gone either way) letter of a book review for The Season by Sarah MacLean.
Dear Sarah:
1. First a confession, followed quickly by a complaint. You see, I borrowed the book from my local library, because I was planning on upping your circulation rate there, and on saving myself some money. Only now, having fallen in love with the book, I will be rushing out to buy a copy to add it to my "I wish I'd written this" shelf. Drat and double drat.
2. As you probably already know, what with the Jane project and all, I have my very own Austen fixation. So mentions of Austen's works (including Pride and Prejudice and Mansfield Park) made me giddily pleased.
3. What you (and most of the rest of my readers) don't know is that I also read a buttload of Regency romances when I was a teenager. See, one of my aunts has a complete Barbara Cartland collection, the plot of each of which has melded into one story for me (a minor oversimplification, but not, I believe, materially incorrect): the intelligent daughter of a country vicar attracts the attention of a wealthy lord (often a rakish one at that), and ends up happily betrothed at the end. I moved on from Cartland to Georgette Heyer and Catherine Coulter and Marion/Anne Devon and Jane Wilby and Amanda Scott and more. So I really spotted the plot from the start, but even as that was the case (and I had it all right, including who was the hero and who the decoy hero, and who was the actual bad guy and who was the decoy bad guy - squee!), I kept thinking "Wow - how great would it be to be Sarah, introducing a whole new generation of girls to the Regency romance?" I also kept thinking "Wow - this plot is way better than a lot of the tripe I read as a teenager!"
4. I also couldn't help but notice that the quality of the writing itself was, like the Stafford and Blackmoor men, head and shoulders above others in the same category. The character development was more thoroughly explored than in many of the books I've read, with lots of full-fledged characters where one would expect to find cardboard cutouts. The sentences were extremely well-crafted without feeling stilted or overworked (which can happen quite easily when one is trying to stay within Regency dialogue parameters, I can assure you). For instance, have a look at this lovely exchange between Gavin Blackmoor (*sigh!* - also? possibly the most excellent hero name ever) and our heroine, Alexandra Stafford:
"I couldn't very well let you attend a ball unescorted." The words were still hanging in the air as the door to the carriage opened and Gavin stepped down onto the gravel walkway leading to Salisbury House, turning back to offer his hand to help her descend from the vehicle.
As she did, she spoke with a tone laced with humor. "That would have, indeed, been a risk. Imagine the trouble in which I could find myself without you to watch over me." She paused, pretending to consider the trouble in question, and with an exaggerated sigh, pointed out, "Your overwhelming desire to save me is rather unaccommodating, my lord."
First off, I hope you notice how well-done that is. Second, AHAHAHA! So much humor and wit and verve and, well, you get the picture. (That bit is from page 160, by the way.)
5. This book had me smiling all the way through. I don't mean that metaphorically, either. I first realized it as I was reading page 92, involving a ride in a curricle (a popular staple in Regency romances), but as I realized that I was grinning like a fool, it occurred to me that I hadn't just started, but had, in fact, been doing so pretty much since page 7 or so. And I finished the book with the same foolish grin on my face.
6. I am seriously hoping for two more books to follow this, in which we see Vivi (Lady Vivian Markwell) and Ella (Lady Eleanor Redburn) paired off as well. I even have my eye on two gentlemen for them already, but I cannot be certain that I've correctly sorted out whether I'm correct as to the identity of the men, nor whether I've correctly surmised which gentleman goes with which young lady.
In conclusion, dear Sarah, I have developed quite an author crush on you, and quite a character crush on Alex, Vivi, Ella, Gavin, Will, Nick, Kit, and Freddie. I will quite happily scoop up your Regency romance for adults, Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake, when it hits stores next January. And I will hold thumbs in hopes that those aforementioned sequels/related novels turn up. Because I am only going to be able to re-read this book so many times before I wear it out. And make no mistake - I'll be re-reading it a bunch. I have to justify buying my own copy after I've already read it, don't I?
Love,
Kelly
P.S. - Were I to draw an analogy to an Austen novel, I'd probably have to go with a Northanger Abbey/Emma hybrid, because your hero was as charming as Henry Tilney, and his relationship with the heroine most closely matched that of Mr. Knightley's with Emma. That said, Alex had the spirit of Elizabeth Bennet and Emma Woodhouse, without quite the same level of mistake of understanding, although she had a bit of Catherine Morland's naivete as well, which made her extra-charming. Brava!
Dear Sarah:
1. First a confession, followed quickly by a complaint. You see, I borrowed the book from my local library, because I was planning on upping your circulation rate there, and on saving myself some money. Only now, having fallen in love with the book, I will be rushing out to buy a copy to add it to my "I wish I'd written this" shelf. Drat and double drat.
2. As you probably already know, what with the Jane project and all, I have my very own Austen fixation. So mentions of Austen's works (including Pride and Prejudice and Mansfield Park) made me giddily pleased.
3. What you (and most of the rest of my readers) don't know is that I also read a buttload of Regency romances when I was a teenager. See, one of my aunts has a complete Barbara Cartland collection, the plot of each of which has melded into one story for me (a minor oversimplification, but not, I believe, materially incorrect): the intelligent daughter of a country vicar attracts the attention of a wealthy lord (often a rakish one at that), and ends up happily betrothed at the end. I moved on from Cartland to Georgette Heyer and Catherine Coulter and Marion/Anne Devon and Jane Wilby and Amanda Scott and more. So I really spotted the plot from the start, but even as that was the case (and I had it all right, including who was the hero and who the decoy hero, and who was the actual bad guy and who was the decoy bad guy - squee!), I kept thinking "Wow - how great would it be to be Sarah, introducing a whole new generation of girls to the Regency romance?" I also kept thinking "Wow - this plot is way better than a lot of the tripe I read as a teenager!"
4. I also couldn't help but notice that the quality of the writing itself was, like the Stafford and Blackmoor men, head and shoulders above others in the same category. The character development was more thoroughly explored than in many of the books I've read, with lots of full-fledged characters where one would expect to find cardboard cutouts. The sentences were extremely well-crafted without feeling stilted or overworked (which can happen quite easily when one is trying to stay within Regency dialogue parameters, I can assure you). For instance, have a look at this lovely exchange between Gavin Blackmoor (*sigh!* - also? possibly the most excellent hero name ever) and our heroine, Alexandra Stafford:
"I couldn't very well let you attend a ball unescorted." The words were still hanging in the air as the door to the carriage opened and Gavin stepped down onto the gravel walkway leading to Salisbury House, turning back to offer his hand to help her descend from the vehicle.
As she did, she spoke with a tone laced with humor. "That would have, indeed, been a risk. Imagine the trouble in which I could find myself without you to watch over me." She paused, pretending to consider the trouble in question, and with an exaggerated sigh, pointed out, "Your overwhelming desire to save me is rather unaccommodating, my lord."
First off, I hope you notice how well-done that is. Second, AHAHAHA! So much humor and wit and verve and, well, you get the picture. (That bit is from page 160, by the way.)
5. This book had me smiling all the way through. I don't mean that metaphorically, either. I first realized it as I was reading page 92, involving a ride in a curricle (a popular staple in Regency romances), but as I realized that I was grinning like a fool, it occurred to me that I hadn't just started, but had, in fact, been doing so pretty much since page 7 or so. And I finished the book with the same foolish grin on my face.
6. I am seriously hoping for two more books to follow this, in which we see Vivi (Lady Vivian Markwell) and Ella (Lady Eleanor Redburn) paired off as well. I even have my eye on two gentlemen for them already, but I cannot be certain that I've correctly sorted out whether I'm correct as to the identity of the men, nor whether I've correctly surmised which gentleman goes with which young lady.
In conclusion, dear Sarah, I have developed quite an author crush on you, and quite a character crush on Alex, Vivi, Ella, Gavin, Will, Nick, Kit, and Freddie. I will quite happily scoop up your Regency romance for adults, Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake, when it hits stores next January. And I will hold thumbs in hopes that those aforementioned sequels/related novels turn up. Because I am only going to be able to re-read this book so many times before I wear it out. And make no mistake - I'll be re-reading it a bunch. I have to justify buying my own copy after I've already read it, don't I?
Love,
Kelly
P.S. - Were I to draw an analogy to an Austen novel, I'd probably have to go with a Northanger Abbey/Emma hybrid, because your hero was as charming as Henry Tilney, and his relationship with the heroine most closely matched that of Mr. Knightley's with Emma. That said, Alex had the spirit of Elizabeth Bennet and Emma Woodhouse, without quite the same level of mistake of understanding, although she had a bit of Catherine Morland's naivete as well, which made her extra-charming. Brava!