An Open Letter to Barbara Taylor Bradford
Honestly, Mrs. Bradford, I’ve never read your books and with honesty once more, I don’t imagine I will, though I can picture myself in front of the miniseries A Woman of Substance as I watched The Thornbirds in my adolescence, for there is something about these epics that every woman must admit a fantasy with. I assume your books must satisfy what in a woman likes to be satisfied for your bulging popularity says as much. Whether it is archetypical romance or the success of woman in face of adversity, your skill of tapping into that source has gotten you famous and in my point of view, writers with money are anomalies, though as an ‘entertainer’ you probably don’t see it that way.
For whatever our differences of genre, writers are writers and truthful writers are better writers and that in fact you are. So Barbara Taylor Bradford, won’t you buy a ‘B’ and open the computing world to you, the ‘woman of substance?’ There is of course the added altruistic bonus of helping a struggling writer, though that sentiment probably plagues you more than you care to mention.
Yes, Barbara Taylor Bradford, maybe tonight is the night; maybe it is exactly A Woman of Substance that is missing from my repertoire!
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