I Know You Are, but What am I?
Wellington Leg: Quite a furor has erupted in the Leg over the audacity of some book reviewers to express a jaundiced view of current output ala Joe Queenan’s cris de couer over general crappiness. Thus the editorial staff here at One More Bite of the Apple, though imaginary, is nevertheless a house divided when contemplating the literary landscape where the great ones line the driveway with topiary precision. I think we can discard the notion that Donald Duck belongs in the pantheon since he rarely communicates with the sort of ease we expect from the literati although he remains a house favorite, a dark horse or at least a pale rider.
Our Resident Critic ( The RC) had this to say before turning his attention to the more mundane affairs:
THE ROAD by Cormac McCarthy> the story is redeemed by the father’s love for the son. It’s in the opening paragraph.
“I don’t know if I’m a fan of traditional mysteries. They are beginning to weigh each other down with safe writing, boring and repetitious plots, politically correct homage to society’s favorite constructs.”
Where’s the edge? Where’s the risk taking, the punch, the push? Gone to Wentsville ( or is it Wentzville?). If you want to be published in the traditional sense your work must resemble the life of a group of readers easily quantified by their circumstances. These readers will love your work because, like a memo from the PTA, all’s well that ends well.
What a minute, that’s non-fiction.