I picked up a collection of women sleuth mysteries and finished the first book, Louisiana Bigshot by Julie Smith. (the second book is vampires and I’m skipping that) The main is a young, black detective in New Orleans who is also a poet known as Baroness dePontalba. She’s taken a shortened version of the Baroness' name as her own so she’s Talba Wallis.
Really good mystery, good characters and I only have two gripes. Yes, I know it’s hot in the Big Easy in the summer, but do I have to be told every time someone sweats and where they are sweating? Forehead, waist, back, chest, palms and I don’t want to know where else.
The second is a personal gripe. Poetry puts me to sleep. Even two or three lines and my eyelids start to droop. And the Baroness does not write short poems. I’m sure most people would enjoy the poetry or at least not fall asleep over it, but not me. I had to skip it.
Ironically, I’m reading a book based on the life of the daughter of George Gordon Lord Byron. Enchantress of Numbers by Jennifer Chiaverini. “Ada Byron King, Countess of Lovelace—Lord Byron’s daughter and the world’s first computer programmer” Intriguing, right?
But of course, her father was a famed poet and is to this day “she walks in beauty like the night.” See? I’m not a complete poetry Phillistine. So at least in the beginning there is poetry scattered throughout. Her mother wrote poetry, too. At this point, it’s so far so good and I will continue reading, skipping over the rhyming parts.
