Serious times don’t always need serious stories.
Four days ago, a bestselling novelist apologized for the tone of a promo for her book that releases June 9.
“This cheerful newsletter,” she writes, “exists in a reality bubble where riots and burning and hatred and anguish don’t exist. It lives in the distant age of two weeks past, when we could pretend that our biggest problem as a nation was the spread of a virus among a crowd of beachgoers.
“Everything about this newsletter is wrong, from the date … to the tone … to the book itself—from cover to plot.” Her book, she says, “is unabashedly escapist. Is this even allowed right now?”
I hope so. Last week as I prepared for a three-hour medical appointment, I brought two novels. Both were historicals, crafted by award-winning authors. But one was “literary,” the other a “beach book.”
I tried to keep my mind in the literary novel. But it demanded more concentration than I could give. So I switched books and enjoyed a few hours of escapist entertainment. The second author gave me what I needed.
As for the apologizing author, I hope she doesn’t sell her work short. Yes, her books are plot-driven and entertaining. But in the background of each of her novels, set one hundred years ago, she’s also explored significant themes. Without having them forced on me, I’ve seen her view of gender equality, the folly of social stratification, the value of education – especially theological studies, and partnership in marriage. All that, plus a ripping, good yarn.
I hope her new book sells. It may be just what people need.
