Kurt Vonnegut’s Rules for Writing Fiction
From American State:
Tag Archives: Why Some Books Suck
I Don’t Like Jonathan Lethem’s Books But That Doesn’t Make Me Stupid, Stupid
Today’s New York Times had a review of Jonathan Lethem’s new book, You Don’t Love Me Yet. I don’t see what the big deal is about Lethem–I thought this book was ably written but lacking vitality, and Motherless Brooklyn made me put it down after about 100 pages because it bored me.
Narcissistic Autobiographies
I read a book for work tonight, a travel autobiography about a woman who thinks she’s hilarious and that everything that ever happened to her in her entire life is fascinating. Guess what? It’s not. How do these people get published? I guess if you’re a woman, it helps to be really crude and vulgar. That’s what passes for feminism these days. Well, you depress me, Sarah Silverman and your ilk. Get a life. (Just don’t assume I want to know about it.)
Popcorn Reading
Tonight’s work read was a book for teens that horrified me with how shallow it was. It made me fear for the souls of young readers until I reminded myself that I read the Sweet Valley High series up through something like number 60 and I turned out okay.
Never Underestimate a Bad Ending
The book I read for work last night kicked off with such promise. I was reminded of books such as A Secret History, Special Topics in Calamity Physics, and House of Leaves. I love books that combine gothic atmosphere, horror elements, and a story-within-a-story that might be more than just a story. Books that are occult, in the sense that they imply access to a hidden meaning if the reader can master the secret language that the author is employing beyond words. This particular book…