Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,
How about a book that's funny and sad, but uplifting? You want it. You got it.
I promised you a good book today, and here it is: Woman on the Verge of Paradise by our friend, Robyn Alana Engel, who blogs ever so hilariously at Life By Chocolate.
My purchase of this book represents the only time I've ordered (I shop online; I'm a recluse in real life) a book because I thought the cover was amusing:
Then the mail carrier deposited the book in the box nailed next to my front door, where I can't fence in the front yard or I have to move my mailbox all the way out to the curb, which is like ten miles away, and I looked inside the book and learned the cover was designed by Bryan Pedas of A Beer for the Shower, so, duh, it's no wonder the cover is great. I like the back of the book even better, but you have to buy the book to see the photo of our author, who appears to be in pain because she has something in her eye. Maybe a contact lens.
Engel describes her work as "creative non-fiction" or "memoir-ish." She also does not recommend the book for
2)The Narrow-Minded or
3) Martha Stewart
Boy, am I glad I'm not on that list because I happen to love Woman on the Verge of Paradise, which henceforth I shall refer to as Paradise because it's where I live: Paradise, Florida, with palmetto bugs, rats, feral cats so well fed they watch the rats stroll around, gigantic locusts, and my own private Lake Junebug when it rains enough.
When Engel refers to her book as memoir-ish, I think it's because she changed some names to protect the guilty; i.e., I don't believe she was married to a man named Justin Case.
Pardise begins with the kind of sex dream I wish I had, and gets even better when the author awakens and wants breakfast:
"Food." I like food. "Must eat."
I find myself in the kitchen attempting to pour Kashi in a bowl, but realize I neglected to open the box. So I open the box.
Milk is needed. The microwave doors swings open, seemingly by my own hand. Oops.
Of course, Paradise has more to it than Engel's sophisticated culinary skills. She takes us on her journey through life--so far--including her mom's death from cancer, a marriage that maybe had great potential but didn't quite work out, and a lot of dates with a lot of men. Good men. Bad men. In-between men. Creepy men. Weird men. Men so weird they're scary, and men so weird they're funny.
One date shows her his hot wax vat and his birds. Best line in the book: To my credit, I didn't touch his cockatiel.
Ultimately, what I love the most about Paradise is that Robyn Alana Engel learns that the pumpkin will not turn into a coach, glass slippers would hurt like a bitch, and she is not Cinderella and doesn't need to be Cinderella. Robyn Alana Engel is a complete person, not in need of a man, though she'll take a good one if he should happen to come along.
Woman on the Verge of Paradise earns The Janie Junebug Seal of Highest Approval. I purchased my copy from Amazon at http://goo.gl/1wm3Wa.
However, Ms. Engel has informed me that she will give you a copy of her book in exchange for an honest review. If you would like to read and honestly review Woman on the Verge of Paradise, please email me at dumpedfirstwife.blogspot.com, and I'll pass along your most personal information to the author (remember to include bank account numbers, but that's just for me).
Or you can email the author herself at Rawknrobyn@aol.com.
Infinities of love,