Rosamunde Pilcher is an author that my mother has been recommending for quite some time. I usually jump on her suggestions right away, since chances are fairly good that if she likes a book, I will really like it too. She has recommended plenty of other authors that I've come to love: Jeffrey Archer, Maeve Binchy, Karen Kingsbury, Ted Dekker.
I decided to start with one of Pilcher's short story books, because I was looking for another good book to leave in the car for those moments when I am waiting for Trevor to come out from kindergarten. However, I hope that I didn't short-change Pilcher by making this decision.
I just found the whole experience of reading this book to be too choppy. Sean was talking continuously while we waited. At one point, I asked him to be quiet and I hurt his feelings (nothing quite like hearing your son cry because you asked him to stop talking so you could read!). When I took the boys to the park and tried to read, they kept coming over to ask for me to watch them on the monkey bars. It seemed like the whole reading experience was an exercise in futility.
However, Pilcher is a great writer. I can see why my mother has been singing her praises for some time now. She writes stories about down-to-earth people with engaging lives. Plus, the stories are always set in Great Britain.
I am sincerely hoping to attempt another Pilcher book and this time I will try a novel. I will also attempt to devote uninterrupted time for reading. My library stats reveal that September received the highest ratings of her books. Thankfully, there are many to choose from and my mom has assured me that they are all good.
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