Swinging by Imani's blog earlier today, I came across the news that Sidney Sheldon passed away. It was the kind of news you just had to share with your colleagues. It was hilarious the kind of response that you get from news like this. All the confessions of trashy readings of your younger days coming to light. And people started to share the plotlines of their favourite Sidney Sheldon novels.
And of course, some of us actually thought he was dead a long time ago.
One of us only found out last year that Sidney was a he.
Trashy, sensational - but utterly enjoyable. Sidney Sheldon knew his readership and he gave them what they wanted. So he wrote to entertain and hs books are hardly high art. But he gave pleasure, did he not?
Goodbye Sidney. You lived till a good age of 89 and you were VERY rich. I have only read one of your books. It was If Tomorrow Comes, and it was an enjoyable spin on a resourceful woman's tale of revenge and finding redemption through love. You knew how to write those twists in the plot.
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