my bad
While on the basis of this weblog you might think of me as unflinching when it comes to expressing my opinions, the truth is, I don't often let my inner cranky woman out. Really. If I do sometimes write scathing reviews, nine times out of ten I delete them, because, well. That's just not what this weblog was supposed to be about. Once in a while, though, I allow myself a modified rant, but then I also put it in the list to the right called my bad. This is to keep me from indulging my inner cranky woman too often, and also, it's a kind of truth in advertising thing. Other authors may come here looking for some word about themselves (it's a professional hazard, that kind of curiosity) but unless they show up in that list, they have no reason to be mad at me (and if they are on that list, I don't particularly care if they are mad at me).
I have been critical of Dan Brown's The DaVinci Code, you'll notice, and every once in a while somebody posts a comment to that review to let me know I'm not alone in my real dislike of every. little. thing. about that novel. It's good to have pals in crankiness, so I thank those people. I especially thank Shelly, who sent me a link to Dave Barry's column on TDC called 'The DaVinci Code, Cracked'. It made my day. Thanks, Shelly.