I don't do a lot of book reviews, people's taste in books is too varied. But I'm enjoying my current book so much I thought I'd share it. The Florabama Ladies' Auxillary and Sewing Circle (written by Lois Battle) is a story about a displaced homemaker (her husband bankrupted them and moved in with another woman) and a group of factory ladies who lose their jobs when their company closes the factory. She's upscale Atlanta and they're lowrent Alabama. She takes a job working with displaced homemakers at a local community college in Florabama, Alabama where their factory was and is given the task of helping them get on with their lives.
Full of lots of cliche people, but they're so much fun that I forgive the author. The dialogue is well done, especially when the African-Americans are talking.
One sequence in particular made me roar with laughter, let me set the scene, Bonnie (the college lady) has friend in Atlanta who runs a boutique for rich kids who'll buy handmade garments from Bonnie's ladies, who have always made handmade clothes being unable to afford store bought ones. Bonnie wants them to make Regency style dresses for little girls. so to give them real examples of the style wants she goes to Albertine Chisholm's house and runs the Emma Thompson version of "Sense and Sensibility" for a group of the ladies, one of their boyfriends (James) and one husband (Henry)
They're at the part where Colonel Brandon tells Elinor about what Willoughby has done to his ward. The following dialogue ensues:
Lyda Jane said, "Hush!" I don't wanna miss this part," and glued her eyes to the set where the awful truth was finally coming to light, the character confessing, "She was with child. The blackguard who had left her used her abominably ill. During her confinement---"
"Hey, Henry." Puddin' sat up, pulling away from James. "Roll it back, an' play this part again, will you? I don' understand---"
"Ain't hard to understand, " String Bean explained, "Blackguard means he's a skunk. He done got the girl pregnant, then he run off soon's she start showin."
James shook his head. " Now that ain't right," and added, sotto voice, "Y' know when I was a lil boy, I din't think white women could get pregnant if they weren't married.
"Puddin'," Henry said, cutting James a withering glance, "don't be marryin' James even if he ever get 'round to axing you. He be too dumb to live with in the daylight hours."
I could just picture a group of real country women (black or white) watching that movie for the first time. I like books about the south and like good humor, this book has both.
I'm not finished with the book yet, but I'm quite sure I'll be looking for more of Lois Battle's books.