Sometimes it can’t be all about the suffering. After a string of rather sorrow-filled novels and a real life that is a little too filled with depressing news right now, I knew I’d need something cheerier. But then cheerier wasn’t enough and I had to take refuge in chick lit. Weekend With Mr. Darcy by Victoria Connelly was just the thing.
A light and fluffy bit of fun, WWMD was everything the doctor ordered – a bit of romance, a bit of Jane Austen, occasional references to Colin Firth and a few chuckles. Connelly is unlikely to get the call from the Pulitzer Prize committee for this work, but it was a fun little book and a good distraction when one was needed. Plus, it reminded me that I’m overdue to read some Austen (though I’m hardly the superfan portrayed in the novel).