This Nance book has the phrase "okay folks" every other paragraph. The characters are thinner than Flat Stanley, the situation more preposterous than a SyFy production. I'm so glad it's almost over.
But, see, that's the problem--I can't stop listening.
At least with Connelly, the writing is smooth and pleasant. That "trapped by the plot" thing doesn't happen with romances. When the writing is crappy and the characters stupid I put the it down. Mysteries, thrillers etc can get away with all sorts of crimes against writing just because of that pesky plot business. Even the over the top silly plot seems to be grabbing me these days.
In other news, bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, it's still vuvuzela time.