I Love a London Boy

My love for Jasmine Guillory has been well-documented. (It may even exceed that of which I have for Emily Giffin at this point.) In my three previous reviews of Guillory greats, I’ve praised her female characters who have needs, are not afraid to have those needs met, and are multi-dimensional. She gives us real people with real problems rather than characters who society deems worthy of literature. You know who I’m talking about: the quiet, demure, modest, and white gals.

In her writing, Guillory seems to protest every wrong notion about women, and her fourth novel, Royal Holiday, is no different. Once again, Guillory gives us characters and a love affair not promoted enough in literature, especially chick lit: that of the middle-age love story. Sometimes it feels like in pop culture, we’re expected to no longer have wants and needs after marriage and children and once we reach the “ancient” age of 40. Hollywood, for example, has been criticized for years for its apparent ageism and sexism, though many female actresses have spoken up with eventual change hopefully on the horizon.

I don’t know how Guillory manages to fight a different female stereotype in every single book she writes, but I know she’ll keep doing it. And as someone who’s dreading turning 30 in less than 12 months (ridiculous, I know), she definitely puts me at ease with what’s to come in the next few decades.

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