Clarification: I love reading novels about writers. I admit it...I live vicariously through them, imagining that I too can have the fabulous house and exciting life...all on a freelance writer's salary naturally.
Case in point: Rona Parish, the heroine of a series of books by mystery writer Anthea Fraser. Fraser reminds me of a combination of Rosamunde Pilcher and Agatha Christie, with much of the book focusing on Rona's life and family, and the whodunit all wrapped up in just the last few chapters--if not pages.
Rona has an amazing life. She lives in a great house in Marlsborough, England, and has a dog, Gus, whom she takes around everywhere with her. (The number of restaurants in England that allow dogs must be enormous.) She's married to an artist...who lives in his own cottage just down the road three nights a week since he teaches night classes...so really, she has the best of both worlds. She's a twin, has a loving father and slightly kooky mother, plus great step-parents. Best of all, she and Max have an amazing life of going out to dinners and parties and three-week trips to Greece, all funded by Max selling the occasional painting and by Rona writing one--ONE!--article every few months for Chiltern Life--a local (not even a national) magazine.
In the meantime, of course, Rona stumbles across a murder and often has to fight for her life, but still.
I had a marathon Anthea Fraser reading session last weekend, and at the end of it, told my husband: "You know, Rona has been involved in five murders in the course of a single year!"
Now that I think about it, maybe that isn't such a great trade-off.
