Reality Bites!

I admit I am a romantic, but I cannot understand why women fall for Mr. Darcy. Thus, I got intrigued by these books. "Mr. Darcy's Diary" tells his side of the story of Pride and Prejudice. Maybe it's his gentlemanly ways? Hmm. "Me and Mr. Darcy" on the other hand is more realistic. If Mr. Darcy lives in our time, he will definitely be a standout (or out of place). One thing is sure though, when the right guy comes at the right time, he is definitely not a Mr. Darcy.

A little bit of something

I'm commitment phobic. Let's just get that out there. For me, anthologies are the best way to try out multiple new authors without having to pay the price of individual books. It's also an easy way for me to get my romance fix. I'm an avid romance reader and we all know that while there are literally hundreds of authors out there, only a few really get romance right. I've tried out new authors before only to stop reading after five pages. I believe life is too short to be stuck reading a bad book. While this sounds logical, it is not practical. So anthologies let me figure out which author's books I'm going to hoard next without having to break the bank. And so far, it's worked. This is how I discovered Nina Bangs, Susan Johnson, Erin McCarthy and Ronda Thompson. It's also fun to read your favorite authors writing for a particular theme. Like Stephanie Laurens mostly does historical romance with a disadvantaged woman and a very rich, powerful man as main characters. But in Hero, Come Back she writes about a man who doesn't see himself as a hero and she tries out a bit of the supernatural in Fantasy. So if you're just looking for a fun story to read for maybe a maximum of 3 hours, these anthologies should do the trick.

I'm falling in laugh with you

I confess to one tiny weakness: I find romance novels irresistible. This addiction began in my freshman year in high school when we demure Catholic school girls passed around battered copies of Judith McNaught, Johanna Lindsey and Jude Devereaux. Back then, Fabio graced the covers of Johanna Lindsey's novels and we guiltily gobbled up what was then considered very racy love scenes. As my tastes in literature grew more . . . er . . . sophisticated, the romance aisles of bookstores still called to me and I could never resist their allure. Come on, be honest. Who wouldn't want to be that plain Jane some gorgeous hunk of a man would go to the ends of the earth for, even for just a few hours and only on the pages of a book? And then one of the unShelved lent me her copy of Susan Elizabeth Phillips's Nobody's Baby But Mine and I discovered a writer who taught me that falling in love was more Pineapple Express than the Love Affair to Remember. I love SEP's sense of humor, the way she mixes the bizarre with the every day (one pair meets while the girl is wearing a beaver costume, more about that later). Best of all, she makes me believe a football player (mind you, I find American football painful to watch) trumps Fabio in the romantic hero department. This is one author that brings truth to the wish "Happy reading."

Bite me

I really don't know what's so sexy about vampires. They're pale, have sunken eyes, have a faint whiff of the undead and most important, they drink blood. But ever since I discovered Anne Rice, vampires had seemed to me the epitome of the dark, mysterious man we find irresistible because our mamas warned us against them. I think I'm the only one in unShelved who's managed to resist the lure of Twilight but that's because I've got a full band of Dark Hunters who would beat Edward's sorry, vagina-repulsed ass any time, anywhere. These guys are not vampires per se, but that's the beauty of this series. Sherrilyn Kenyon has borrowed from ancient mythology to create an intriguing 4th dimension to our world. My favorite in the series will have to be Acheron, I mean seriously, a literal god of 6'6" walking the earth as some goth lord saving humans at the cost of his soul - who wouldn't hit that? But sorry, girls, this one I'm keeping. You're all welcome to the rest of the Dark Hunters though, who are just as lean, mean and supernaturally gorgeous.

Demmit, where's my Matt Farrell?

Oh, Judith, where should I start? Should I begin with 14-year-old me reading you with a flashlight under the covers till 4am on a school night? Or should I just get right on it and say that I hate you? You wove together such tales of love and romance that you filled my head with thoughts of jaded, reluctant knights in dented armor. Now, almost 2 decades later, you still have me searching for that one exceptional man who will take no shit from me but will care for me when I'm at my lowest and will come for me even at my orneriest moments. I'd like to say you write a lot of bull, but you've seen me through years of sleepless, lonely nights. While I sit up in the dark, reading and rereading your books, you make me believe that there is a Matt Farrell for me. I just wish he'd stop slacking around and come find me already.

Man, oh man

A friend of mine spends hours foraging through this obscure bookshop near her office. I don't know what compelled her to buy that collection of short stories by Michael Thomas Ford but she sure was so excited about it. So I finally pried it off her clutching fingers and read through it in one night. I still fan myself at the thought of it. This is one writer who knows his way around erotica. The fact that it's erotica about men getting it on just makes it hotter - after all, I think gay men are hot. But it's unfair to read Michael Thomas Ford's (yes, I can't think of him being called just Mr. Ford) work just because the sexy parts are hot. His work is more complex than that. He mostly deals with relationships and through his stories you do get to know men better. They're not so mysterious after all. They're just as insecure, just as desperate as us to find that someone who will hold our hand that we go for the wrong kind as long as they show the least bit of interest and give us some attention.

Call me curious

This is one of those books I picked up on a whim. I've never heard of Aciman before but his name sounded exotic and the title was intriguing. And . . . uhhh . . . the cover picture made me think this was a romance novel, which it is, just not the kind I thought. This is a love story between two young men and it is erotic, so it might not be for everyone. But don't let that stop you as unlike other gay interest novels, this one blurs the lines between traditional love stories and those that even in these times still seem taboo. This is a beautifully written story of the awakening of passion between two people who share an intellectual connectivity. It tells you how love, in its purest sense, has the ability to transform you and change your perspective. By the time you finish the book, you, the reader, are transformed to as you make the realization that love really does know no boundaries and that to love one person and is to be that person.

Off with his head!

Artemisia Gentileschi was an underrated artist of the early Baroque period. Not because she wasn't any good, but because she was a woman. Now, she is considered to be one of the greatest painters to have been influenced by the Caravaggio, the love of my life. But at that point in time, she was overshadowed by her father. Trust me, I've seen their work placed side by side. Her father was no match for her at all. I'd even dare say she was equal to Caravaggio himself, but his use of lighting has yet to be surpassed. But I digress, this isn't an art review after all. I've just given you the background behind Susan Vreeland's The Passion of Artemisia. The life of artists have always fascinated me, I love finding people who are more neurotic and broken than me. But in Artemisia's case, there is no room for schadenfreude. From the depths of her anger and despair come artwork that can still move you to tears 5 centuries down the line. In this fictionalized version of her life, you'll find a scandal, much tragedy and Virgin Woolf-ish isolation. But I dare you to pity a woman who depicted herself chopping off her rapist's head.

Happy accidents

I'm generally resistant to change, especially when it comes to finding a new author. Or maybe I'm just lazy. Whatever the reason, I buy up everything an author has ever written, prolonging the inevitable moment when I've reread my pack of toothpaste a dozen times and have to accept that I must go out and get new reading material. I came upon Nick Hornby on one such expedition to my local bookstore. At that point, I hadn't even known About a Boy had been based on a book. I only knew that Hugh Grant had once again chosen to play a character he didn't have to exert himself and his limited acting skills for. But I did remember that the story was a charming portrait of a guy who had tried to avoid responsibility all his life and who suddenly found himself stuck with the biggest responsibility of all: being someone impressionable's role model. So I got the book and Nick Hornby became my author in residence. He writes about everyday men, men you expect to find on the street and may have already met. We all know them - charming, lovable men who have their faults but have learned to accept them and are just looking for that one person who would take them as they are, warts, neuroses and all.

Underdogs always win

What are the three things I cannot live without? Books, movies and food - in that order. In that sense, The Commitments by Roddy Doyle is close to perfect. This is one of those few instances when the movie complements the book so well, you can hear the actors' voices while you read. It's a story about young musicians introducing soul to a dying industrial town in Ireland. Don't tell anyone but one of my guilty pleasures is watching the movie, forwarding to the singing portions and then rereading the book.

Love is hard

Elizabeth Lowell is one of the pseudonyms of Ann Maxwell, a woman I admire for channeling her boredom towards something productive, like say, writing over 50 novels, most of which made it to bestseller lists. Her work as Elizabeth Lowell is categorized mostly as contemporary romantic suspense and in this collection that includes Midnight in Ruby Bayou, Amber Beach and Pearl Cove. Incidentally, they're part of a series about the Donovans who, as is pro forma in contemporary romance, are a powerful (read: insanely rich) family who have interests in rare and precious minerals and gems. The first book I read from Elizabeth Lowell was Pearl Cove and I got hooked on how she seamlessly weaves in suspense in the love story. Yes, there's this powerful man whom no woman has been able to conquer. And yes, there's this broken woman who believes she will never be able to love again. They meet, go off on an adventure and live happily ever after. It seems formulaic, but you don't get that feeling while you turn page after page, biting your nails to find out whether they will get the bad guys before or after they kill each other.

Not shite at all

I fell in love with Ewan McGregor in Trainspotting and bought the book mainly because it featured him on the cover. It was one of my best finds ever. And it's available for sale too just as soon as I muster up enough interest to pry it out of the clutches of an ex-mistake. But back to Irvine Welsh, he's just as difficult to read as it was trying to understand the gang's dialogue in Trainspotting. But once you get the hang of the Scottish brogue you're in for one helluva ride. Welsh has the ability to make even the grungiest of characters noteworthy and eventually lovable. 4 Play is a collection of Welsh's stage adaptations for Trainspotting, Marabou Stork Nightmares and Ecstasy & Filth. Glue is similar to Trainspotting as it's about friends growing up together in Scotland but it's different in that we see the characters actually grow up, not just in the sense that they grow older, but also in the way their ideals change. They still speak the same language though so expect to have this on your nightstand for longer than a night or two.

Meet me after Twilight

I was stuck at the Vienna airport for over 14 hours, some time in which they lost my luggage (thank you, Austrian Airlines!). I had stupidly packed all my books in the bags I checked in (which is, incidentally, why I now own a phone with an e-book reader), thinking we would be apart for a maximum of 5 hours. I wouldn't see them again till 8 days later. Anyhoo, stuck at the airport, twiddling my thumbs, I decided to check out the bookshop. Now this was two years ago, at the height of Twilight mania. No, not yet to the heights Robert Pattinson has brought it but enough so that every bookstore I had stumbled upon boasted having the complete collection in stock. So while I grit my teeth, trying not to roll my eyes at every shiny, black covered book I saw, I found these two books from the Dark Crescent Sisterhood series from Anna Windsor. I don't remember now if I bought these just to spite Stephanie Meyer, but I am glad I did. This series is about girl power in all the right senses of the phrase. Not that the men in the books aren't well-endowed, secure hunks we'd all fall for but for once, their strength serves only as complement to that of the sisterhood. Oh, and if that doesn't interest you enough, may I mention that they usually end up trussed up and naked at some point in the books?

The devil wears plastic

One of the unShelved is notoriously fussy about books. She hates having them dogeared or showing any sign at all of being cracked open. She'd whack you if your bookmark was any thicker than a receipt. When you lend her a book, you risk it coming back to you with a way of shaming you for not taking care of it better. Thus, I present to you the only book in my collection with a plastic cover: Lauren Weisberger's The Devil Wears Prada. You've all heard how movies never do justice to the book and this is one fine example. In the book, the heroine shows more guts than Imelda Marcos has shoes. And is several leagues over Anne Hathaway's porcelain faced, delicate flower in haute couture depiction. Yes, it smacks of chick lit (hate this descriptor), what with its setting in the center of the fashion world. But it's really about how all of us just try to get by while we sort out what we want to be when we grow up. And there always has to be someone to throw in a spanner in the works. That's just life, though I wish mine came with a fabulous wardrobe too.

I'm different and that's okay

Before Amy Tan's Joy Luck Club, my idea of the Chinese was that they were a race of Shaolin fighting cooks. And that's not derogatory in any way. I used to get up early on Saturdays to watch this tiny Chinese woman make delicious food from what was seemingly anything she could find in her kitchen. And an hour after that, Stephen Yan would come through his sliding paper doors to cheerfully say, "Herrooooooooooo, today I cook for you . . . " But I digress. Amy Tan's depiction of life as a Chinese immigrant's daughter opened up a world that was not too different from mine, except that hers was filled with characters so vividly drawn, you expect to meet them on the street somehow. I've been a fan ever since. I especially look out for those moments when she describes Chinese mothers. Like mine, they're a little bit neurotic and so far removed from my world that they might as well be speaking an alien language. They shout and sometimes find no other recourse than to hit you on the head, but at the heart of it all is a mother who only wants what's best for you and is willing to go through great lengths to get it for you.

The white ninja

I have a confession to make. I stopped reading children's fiction when I became an adult and only rediscovered it through . . . uhm . . . er . . . the Harry Potter series. But this was one trilogy I could not resist when I came upon it on one of my decompression sessions at a local bookstore. Anything martial arts has always caught my fancy, but a trilogy about feuding ninja clans was just pure wish fulfillment. Lian Hearn is the pseudonym of Gillian Rubinstein, an Australian children's author and playwright (I love you, Wikipedia). I got these books about 4 years ago and the trilogy has since expanded to a . . . I don't know what the term for a 5-book series is, but that's what it turned out to be. It all happens in this fictional island based on feudal Japan and as I mentioned, it's about ninjan clans battling it out, swords, ninja stars, smoke bombs and all. Very very entertaining. It's not exactly world-renowned like Harry Potter, but in the young warrior Takeo, we find a protagonist who actually deserves the literary title of "hero."

The intellectual treasure hunt

So he's become a commercial success and two of his books have been made into movies, but amidst all the controversy and religious criticism, Dan Brown really is a master of the suspense novel. I'd heard much of the hype before I got hold of The Da Vinci Code and was quite skeptical about it. But a friend of mine practically crammed it down my throat so I thought, what the hell. I ended up finishing it in one sitting (or laying down as I read in bed). And at the end of that heart-pumping 5-hour spell, I felt like my innards were in knots. Just remember that Robert Langdon is definitely NOT best represented by Tom Hanks. He's one geek I would definitely not mind getting stuck in the Louvre with . . . just don't remind me about the mutilated corpse lying spreadeagled in one of the dark rooms.

Words can be a visual medium too

You might be more familiar with Tracy Chevalier's novel The Girl with a Pearl Earring. It's the book that got me hooked on her work. Please do not take the fact that it became a Scarlet Johanssen vehicle against her. I'm sure she had nothing to do with that. Putting that aside, I love Chevalier's work because she writes beautifully. The way she describes things just brings them to mind in full technicolor that your familiarity with the artwork she bases her books on could enrich your reading experience but is no longer a necessity. My personal favorite is the heartbreaking Falling Angels (as you can see, the spine has been put under more stress than the others) but if you enjoyed Girl . . . you might like The Lady and the Unicorn too.

The woman who told us it was fun to be 30 and single

I must admit I didn't know who Candace Bushnell was until a friend gave me her copy of Sex in the City. Till then, I only knew there was this TV series about 30-somethings living it up in New York. I couldn't really relate to her characters at that time - they were all too worldly and sophisticated for this young girl from the islands. But as I grew older and the frequency of being asked "Why aren't you married yet?" increased, I began to appreciate their lifestyle. Yes, it's okay to talk openly about wanting sex. And yes, I am over 30, single and making my own way in the world. And more importantly, yes, my friends trump guys any time, anywhere.

These books are not for the fainthearted. If you're expecting clear cut love stories with happy endings, these are not for you. But if you know and understand that a girl's life is complicated and relationships are more emotional landmines than beds of roses, then by all means, take these off our hands.