And here is the nature of my twinge. It's not the twinge you think, the one that says, "Jeez, how come this dude is out there getting good reviews, and all I've got is a letter from a publisher that says I'm the new Terry Southern but my book is not for them."
No. I'm standing in the bookstore, driven there by an ecstatic review yet let down on page one -- I, a major market of one for literary fiction, with the hard cash to fork over to get my mind bent -- and my twinge goes like this: “Why in heaven's name can't I find a great book to read this week by someone who is actually alive today? What is going on? Are our novelists as lousy as our bankers?”
Listen, you living writers out there. Write us a masterpiece or two, for chrissake. We need something more solid than Urban Intellectual Fodder. What's with you -- do you want us to die from starvation?
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
With so many smart readers, why don't we have better books?: