Sally's Musings...

I recently finished reading Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier. For a national bestseller that garnered the status of "a genuinely romantic saga that attains the status of literature" and a movie production, I was sorely disappointed.

Sure, the words flowed with a certain melody I enjoyed at times. But the extensive description of scenery and cornbread bored me to death. I'd skim entire paragraphs as they endlessly described the call of the blue jay, or the sizzle of grits cooking over an open fire.

I guess I'm just not a literary fiction kind of gal. That's not entirely true. I loved The Catcher in the Rye and Wuthering Heights. But my fiction tastes run more to the mainstream. I like action, romance, and description of farmland at a minimum. And, please, do not let the hero die at the end of the story. I like happy endings, no matter how unrealistic.