“A Woman of Substance” was a 1979 novel by Barbara Taylor Bradford; it was made into a 3-part TV series in 1984.
I wouldn’t have remembered this offhand except for a rather silly connection. In 1984 or a little earlier, one of my brothers attempted to pen a novel about a kid who goes to a really brutal summer camp. (He would have been 14 or younger at the time.) The novel had several interesting starts (one of which was clearly inspired by “Catcher in the Rye”) but never reached completion, and certain elements of it entered our family vocabulary. The mess hall at the camp specialized in a disgusting food-like substance nobody could identify, so it was referred to simply as “substance”. We all thought this was funny. If Mom dished up something unappetizing my brother turned up his nose at, she’d proudly say it was “substance, compliments of the chef.” To accentuate how gross “substance” was, my brother took to pronouncing it in a deep voice, slightly slowed-down.
So, we’re watching TV, and along comes a commercial advertising this miniseries. Immediately we took to calling it “A Woman of SUBSTANCE” (deep, slowed-down voice). Dad laughed and said it was an unfortunate title, to be sure.
“A Woman of Substance” was a 1979 novel by Barbara Taylor Bradford; it was made into a 3-part TV series in 1984.
I wouldn’t have remembered this offhand except for a rather silly connection. In 1984 or a little earlier, one of my brothers attempted to pen a novel about a kid who goes to a really brutal summer camp. (He would have been 14 or younger at the time.) The novel had several interesting starts (one of which was clearly inspired by “Catcher in the Rye”) but never reached completion, and certain elements of it entered our family vocabulary. The mess hall at the camp specialized in a disgusting food-like substance nobody could identify, so it was referred to simply as “substance”. We all thought this was funny. If Mom dished up something unappetizing my brother turned up his nose at, she’d proudly say it was “substance, compliments of the chef.” To accentuate how gross “substance” was, my brother took to pronouncing it in a deep voice, slightly slowed-down.
So, we’re watching TV, and along comes a commercial advertising this miniseries. Immediately we took to calling it “A Woman of SUBSTANCE” (deep, slowed-down voice). Dad laughed and said it was an unfortunate title, to be sure.
I got nuthin’