Thursday, November 11, 2010

In Dreams Begin by Skyler White

This peculiar time travel romance will please realists who grump when modern heroines easily abandon their commitments and expectations once in the past, but White (And Falling, Fly) ends up treating the past as disposable instead. Lanky, soccer-playing graphic artist Laura can't remember the details of her present-day life after her spirit takes over the body of 19th-century Irish activist Maud Gonne, thanks to a spell cast by Gonne's envious lover, Ida. Nonetheless, she retains her ironic, self-doubting personality and starts up a romance with poet William Butler Yeats to satisfy her narcissistic desire for love without consequences. It's not so clear what Yeats loves about Laura. Her repeated self-justification gets old quickly, as do Ida's machinations. The thoughtful, plausible happy ending is sweet, but Laura's casual manipulation of the historical characters--who are real to themselves if not to her--leaves a bitter aftertaste.

Do you like to read urban fantasy? How about romance? Toss in time-travelling? Then this book is for you since it has all three, as well as some historical in it too!! Skyler White has penned another lyrical and compelling novel with In Dreams Begin.  Laura is a newlywed who finds her dreams spinning her into the mind of 19th century Irish activis Maude Gonne, who falls in love with the famed poet William Butler Yeats.  Dark spell? Perhaps.  But when Laura IS Maude, she remembers nothing of her present life and husband.  However, when she awakes with her own mind, she does remember being Maude and William, and although she loves her husband, she remembers that she loves William too.  Dark, lyrical, and mind-bending, In Dreams Begin will leave you breathless and questioning if there can be a happy ending.  I won't spoil it for you - read the book!


1 comment:

  1. This one looks interesting, though I hope it's not too corny! :)

    ReplyDelete

The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about.

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