There was a time when the book shelves were loaded with the work of authors with names like Ernest Hemingway, Charles Dickens, John Steinbeck, James Michener, James Patterson, John Grisham, William Faulkner, Nickolas Sparks, and Jack Kerouac. Where have they gone? To me they have lost the battle of words to the ladies, at least in my library they have. When I search the shelves for new work it seems that the ladies outnumber the men by at least four to one. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against ladies, but the tone of their pen is not as exciting as that of Tom Clancy telling a suspenseful espionage story. I have to admit that when the story involves a tender love scene the ladies have an edge over us. Perhaps there is something we can learn from them. On the other hand, if the scene involves hot sex, a man can tell it better.
Nine of the books I have read this year have been by women, and thirteen have been by men. I rate each book on a five star system, and the average rating for the men is 4.2 while the women scored 4.5. The story telling ability of ladies is obviously appealing to me. If I exclude everything but fiction from the scoring the ladies still win the war 6 to 5. I suppose that I could argue that the men take on more serious non-fiction like history, biography, and science leaving only the mushy stuff to the ladies, but that would be chauvinistic. One of the best historical fiction books I read was The Last Train to London, which I reviewed on this blog, and it was penned by a lady.
I began writing this piece thinking I would report on how poorly women write compared to men, but I have convinced myself with my own data that women authors rock. I love them and will read more of their work, I am woke to their ability to tell a story a man will like. Now it is time to return to the library to pick another fictional novel written by a woman.
Filed under: Biography, Book Review | Tagged: Lady vs Men authors, Self measurement |
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