. . . And One More Thing
Just in case the Large Hadron Collider does not manage to suck the Earth into a micro black hole in the next month and we still need to pay attention to the election, I encourage you all to bookmark Factcheck.org. With this election being as heated as it is and all the spin coming off the campaigns, I find sites like this very useful. Please go forth and check facts.
This concludes any political speak on this blog. Writing talk will resume shortly.
Linkage: On Chick Lit
(As in the genre, not the username.)
I tend to get a little prickly when people dismiss books as being chick lit. For example, “Oh I’m not reading anything special, just some chick lit” or (from a guy) “I’m not going to read that, it’s chick lit.” It annoys me but I’ve never been able to articulate why it annoys me. When I’ve tried, it has turned into a thousand word rant on literary elitism and that damn MFA program. These sorts of outbursts are better left off the blog.
However, one of my favorite authors briefly tackled the subject on her blog and I think she summed it up very nicely:
. . . I did an interview the other day where I was asked what I thought of the label “chick lit” and how it’s applied to my books. It’s an interesting question. The truth is, I feel like the label “chick lit” is kind of lazy. It’s a way of grouping any book about a woman which has NOT been classified by the Powers That Be as Literary into one incredibly vast category. Personally, I love books about women, Literary and not, and I’ve read enough to them to know that one word cannot possibly define everything that is out there. Is Jennifer Weiner the same as Meg Cabot who is the same as Suzanne Finnamore who is the same as Jennifer Belle? No, no, no and no. It’s like saying that all YA books are the same because they are about teenagers. I think, personally, that it’s up to you as a reader to define what a book is to you. It’s different for everyone. Which is a great thing, and really what reading is all about, anyway.
Via Sarah Dessen.
From the “I Wish I’d Written This” Department:
Margo Rabb’s “How to Tell a Story.”
Even though it’s not possible that Margo and I were in the same MFA program, this story feels so true to my experience (right down to the sentiment/sentimentality lecture) that I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find out that she was sitting right next to me all that time.
I discovered the story years ago, just before my third year in the program. I thought it was so dead on that I sent copies to classmates with the subject line, “OMG! Is she talking about us?!” In the years since, it has served as a reminder that I’m not the only person who had an F’ed up MFA experience. There are plenty more of us out there, and God Bless us all for surviving it.
Linkage: Free Books!
Hey y’all, free books are being given away over at Hey Lady! Whatcha Reading? Go enter the contest! I am, because obviously I need more books.
Linkage: What Makes Bad Fiction
Ward Six writer J. Robert Lennon recently posted a list of what makes fiction bad (in his opinion) and invited others to share their complaints. I tried coming up with my own list of complaints, but could only think of one:
Fiction that puts artiface or style over the story. There’s a book I started reading recently that had an unusual narrator. That part didn’t bother me, but this narrator was frequently interrupted by vague poetic observations that were usually written in ALL CAPITAL LETTERS. These observations were so intrusive, they kept pulling me out of the world of the story and reminding me that the author was trying something very clever. I hate that. I like to be lost in a story. I like to forget that a novel even has an author, so if the story is mainly a conduit for the style (instead of vice versa) it’s going to leave me cold.
Anyway, I encourage both readers and writers to check out the original list and the discussion that follows. I think we can all benefit from being able to talk about why we don’t like a novel or story instead of simply saying that we didn’t like it.
Linkage: Why Writers Can’t Go It Alone
(via Matt Bell)
This Guardian article gets a big amen from me:
The literary world only bestows acceptance, it seems, on those who are published through the traditional avenues. Independent and small presses get short shrift – national newspaper supplements seem loath to review indie books, the big high street sellers won’t stock them, unless the books are about the tough lives of mill girls or histories of public house names, which can be shoved on a shelf marked “local interest”.
<…snip…>
But there’s a sea of dross in the worlds of pop music and movies, too. Quality rises to the surface there, so if the literary industry can relax its perceived inherently snobbish attitude to the output of anything other than the established, traditional publishers, perhaps the same will happen with independent, small press and even self-published books.
Someday I’ll be brave enough to publish my rant/bitch/whine about the stigma of self-publishing in the literary writing world. I think it’s becoming clear that in the current book market, traditional venues are losing ground. In the meantime, read the The Guardian’s take on the subject.
So You Think You’re Well Read…
For those wary of clicking on random links (and who can blame you) the above link will take you to a free interactive spreadsheet of Peter Boxall’s 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die. Fascinating stuff.
I’ve read approximately 7.39% of the list, or 74 books. Should I actually want to complete the entire list, I have 19 books to read per year. Probably not going to happen. And, for the record, I didn’t check off all the books that I started and never finished. It was tempting, but I stayed true. I did, however, wish that there was a way you could mark books that you weren’t ever going to read. In my case, that would be Infinite Jest. I don’t think I would regret going to my grave without reading it.
I have to make the obligatory gripe about some of the book choices, however. For instance, there are three Jose Saramago titles and not one of them is Blindness. And how did Camus’ The Stranger manage to be overlooked? Where is A Tree Grows In Brooklyn? And The Iliad? The Odyssey?
Regardless of my griping, it’s interesting to see the choices and find out what percentage of them I’ve read. If you’re so inclined, leave your results in the comments.
Linkage: "Confessions…"
Via Jade Park: “The confessions of a semi-successful mid-list author“
If you don’t want to hear about the noir underside of publishing — if you’re a writer longing for a literary career, or a reader who’s happier not knowing that producing and marketing a book these days involves about as much moral purity as producing and marketing a pair of Nikes — I suggest you stop reading now.
The above linked article is not a cheerful read. I’ve had a long rant coming on the publishing industry, the death of reading, and the stigma of self-publishing. I’ll see if I can’t get that up in the next week or so.
Linkage: A Novel Take On An Ending
Another of my favorite writers, Richard Russo, wrote an editorial for The Washington Post about the Eliot Spitzer issue. It’s a great read for writers and non-writers. In a time when the news media gets away with drawing caricatures of their subjects, Russo reminds us that it’s the fiction writer’s job to get beyond the surface and examine the complexities of character. It doesn’t escape me that the fiction writer may be closer to portraying the truth than the CNN reporter. Just something to think about.
(via The Millions)
Linkage: 10 Ways to Annoy Your Writers’ Group
Over the last ten years I’ve been in a lot of workshops and writing groups and can say with certainty that these are foolproof ways to annoy your writers’ group. I’ve had at least one of these things happen in every group I’ve been in (with the exception of my current, fabulous group).
While you’re there, check out the rest of John Hewitt’s terrific Writer’s Resource Center. True to its name, it has a wealth of information that ranges from fiction and poetry to technical and business writing.
Enjoy!
