I covetously ratted through yards and yards of clothes until I finally stumbled upon what must be the Sportswear Armoire. It was filled to bursting with soft leather leggings and tops. All the pants were one style, the same buttery-yellow color, each with its own intricately tooled decorations. I recognized a very Celtic-looking knot woven down the sides of many of them. And I swear I could see more of those gross skulls hidden in the decorative leatherwork. They all had narrow legs, and weird ties that laced up high on the left hip (I guessed they were clueless about zippers in this world). I eyed them askance, hoping I hadn't put on any water weight lately. Deciding on one pair that seemed to have the least skull-like pattern, I started to pull them on, and couldn't help but gasp at the supple smoothness of the leather. They felt as if someone had fastened a baby's butt onto my legs.
-Divine by Mistake
I...kind of don't know where to begin. I mean, check out that excerpt. I think you can see why I'm at a bit of a loss. "Baby's butt?" Really? I could have lived a full and happy life without ever seeing someone compare the softness of a pair of leggings to a child's posterior. Truly.
My reading of Divine by Mistake comes down to a classic case of failing to do one's research. When I skimmed the back of the book prior to reading it, I thought the plot had some potential: A midwestern teacher named Shannon Parker buys a vase at an estate sale that transports her to the land of Partholon. There, she discovers that she is the doppelganger of a high priestess, Rhiannon*. She quickly becomes embroiled in all kinds of craziness, including marriage to a centaur and the looming threat of the nasty, blood-sucking Fomorians. I mean, it's not high art, but it sounded like it could be entertaining.
About 200 pages later (and about 200 pages after I realized I would be alternately grinding my teeth and rolling my eyes throughout the book), I took the time to check out the copyright page and discovered that Luna, the publishing company, is an imprint of Harlequin. That really explained a lot: the jokey writing style (Shannon's oft-rumbling stomach is the height of hilarity, apparently, and Cast revisits it often), the frequent dream sequences, and the continued descriptions of what Shannon is wearing. None of which I enjoyed, obviously.
It also explains why Divine by Mistake enjoys an average rating of 4 1/2 stars on Amazon.com, despite the fact it makes Twilight look like Dostoyevsky. I hope it's apparent that I'm not trying to bash P.C. Cast. Clearly her work is quite popular among some readers. If you can tolerate Shannon sizing up a female centaur's "girlfriend potential," making multiple references to John Wayne movies, and navigating romance with her centaurian** intended (the noble yet boring ClanFintan) armed with a slew of hackneyed double entendres involving riding, then I suppose you might enjoy it. It's not my cup of tea, obviously. More like a cup of tea brewed with cilantro, my archnemesis among herbs. Honestly, I didn't even like the font (The curve of the f was so long that when it appeared next to another tall letter, like an l, it looked as though there were almost an entire space between the two letters. Very distracting.) Oh yes, it's nitpicking, I know, but you know things are bad when I can't even wholeheartedly get behind the typeface.
Up next: I love, love, love all things British, in case that was ever unclear, and I particularly love British comedy. I've found that if you "discover" one comedian/show, the British comedy world is small enough that it will inevitably lead you to something else, and eventually you will exhaust the limits of what is on American DVD. This is how I've ended up watching multiple editions of The Big Fat Quiz of the Year on YouTube, and how I came to be entertained by the mischievous and ever-charming Russell Brand. Thus, I snatched up his autobiography, My Booky Wook, from the library yesterday, and I'm pleased to report that so far it is excellent.
*Incidentally, one thing this book did teach me is that I knew the Fleetwood Mac song "Rhiannon." I was aware that a song by that name existed, but it wasn't until I started reading that I matched it up with a song that had started to get stuck in my head with increasing regularity. I'm pretty sure it was on the mix when I worked retail, which was unfortunately skewed toward 70's pop and easy listening.
**Don't worry, they throw some magic at whole situation so there's no bestiality, thank god.
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