ER but with Bishops

It's nice to come home, chip at the mess a bit, then sit down in the corner (now nicely lit by a lamp passed on from R&L, instead of by a naked bulb on top of an ugly green stem) with a glass of cognac and some crack, I mean Susan Howatch. I think I can best describe the Church of England novels as "Spiritual Direction ER," because every book so far (I'm on number three and I've read one of the much later ones... number seven, maybe?) there's a psychological equivalent of "get me an OR! portable x-ray! chest tubes! pulse is dropping!" I eat it up with a spoon. It's like ER after everyone had swapped conjugal partners a time or two, but before it got completely absurd.

And, you know, with bishops and stuff.

( I'm a little over half done with _Ultimate Prizes_ (spoilers inside) )

I leave you with a funny fandom link of the day: Meyerlemon on praise inflation This post made my nipples explode with delight.