Yes, I like Patricia Cornwell, although I wonder about the segue. What path did your mind take on the way from orgasms to Patricia Cornwell? She is gay, you know. She admits it.
I recently almost bumped into her at my local Costco, she was just leaving a book-signing, which I didn't know about, not that I would have gone there for it, stuff like that makes me feel icky. I noticed a limousine parked in front, in the loading zone, with a chauffeur leaning against the side, and wondered about it, and then as I was walking in I saw a lot of people with self-important faces sort of hustling past me with her in the center. She gave me that look that I usually get from gay women, they seem to find me attractive, or maybe they wonder for an instant if I am a kindred spirit (well, I sort of am, but I am not gay, I just don't give a rat's ass what sexual orientation anyone else is as long as they aren't pedophiles). She is very short, maybe 5'2". She had left some signed books on the book table, she signs her name "Patsi" with a little circle over the "i".
I noted with some asperity or consternation yesterday that I have on my bedside table at present the top three of the New York Times Fiction Bestsellers - Grisham's "The Testament," Cornwell's "Southern Cross," and Wolfe's "A Man in Full," all begun but not finished because I was too dissatisfied to finish them. I did, on the other hand, devour Elmore Leonard's latest, "Be Cool." Cornwell does a terrible job writing about men, except for the fat detective guy in her Kay Scarpetta series, can't remember his name. |
