However I always thought Huff a reliable good read. Like Sheri S Tepper but not as annoying content-wise. Solidly good, not great or breathtaking. I'm sure lots of her work still is. Possibly the ones I read in Tokyo, though I know distance and exile make the oddest things palatable, like the Vanyel trilogy or PD James, neither of which I'd have read so devotedly at home (or in the case of the Lackey, at all.)
But the last two things of hers I've come across, both set reliably in Toronto, have been, well, twee. The way Charles de Lint often is. Sweet details, sweet emotions, and umm little people. Mnh. Canada- the true north strong and twee- at least for white fantasy writers, it seems. If someone wishes to mention how and why I'm wrong, I'd be glad to hear it.
(To cite sources again, Ezra Pound:
As a bathtub lined with white porcelain,
When the hot water gives out or goes tepid,
So is the slow cooling of our chivalrous passion,
O my much praised but-not-altogether-satisfactory lady.)
ETAmend- JK. I wanted to give everyone the initial P last night. Brainfry.