I’m reading A PRINCESS OF MARS, which is almost entirely enjoyable*, but baha, the things Burroughs got away with that I cannot imagine doing in today’s fiction: “Over the next week I too developed my telepathic powers.” That’s it. Not mentioned again for jillions of pages, and then only in passing. Eventually becomes more of a plot point, and is even mentioned as “strange powers”, but still. Bahahah. :)
*It’s Dejah Thoris’s perpetually small hands that are just killing me. I don’t mind her being Utterly Perfect In All Ways, since John Carter is too, but OMG the small hands. Save me from the small hands! And the Sudden Deep Passion of Looooooove was a little much too, but hey, it’s pulp fiction. :)