“Don’t you have a sappy bone somewhere in your body? The one that makes you tear up when you hear of a dog getting rescued off a roof in the middle of a flood and returned to his owner? Or the story of a kid who survives cancer, or something?”
Dear lord, no. I don’t do “heartwarming.” In fact, I keep a supply of dry ice near my desk in case my cockles start to heat up.
I saw the galleys of a book here at work last year called “Hot Chocolate for the Angel Lover’s Soul.” I thought it was going to be a brilliant, wry parody, but when I found out it was SERIOUS, I dropped it like Nosferatu with a crucifix.
[shudder] Excuse me now, I have to go read some Dorothy Parker and pop “Double Indemnity” in the VCR . . .