Yeah, it's good. I'm all set with reaching my levels. Trying to drop a few, actually. Beer and Netflix sounds good.
If you click on this thread you must post on it...
- Thread starter Louanne Learning
- Start date
But don't our levels need constant nourishment?
Well, I suppose equal nourishment for all levels helps us avoid becoming bottom heavy.
2% seems so low as all I ever seem to see in the news or awards and what's getting published is...literary fiction. I'm not really interested in what typically falls under that label as it's usually contemporary, about trauma, other downer kinda stuff, too focused on language and symbolism.
I mostly read for fun and escapism. Real life is depressing enough for me. Squeeze in some philosophy for me to ponder in spec-fic/sci-fi? Sounds great. Pop in a bit of politics into the fantasy I'm reading? Let's go.
Give me interesting characters, but focus on plot, give me some action. Make me turn pages instead of re-reading lines and trying to figure out wtf the author was trying to say there. I'm a simple farmer who likes to consume pop/genre literature, mostly for entertainment.
I mostly read for fun and escapism. Real life is depressing enough for me. Squeeze in some philosophy for me to ponder in spec-fic/sci-fi? Sounds great. Pop in a bit of politics into the fantasy I'm reading? Let's go.
Give me interesting characters, but focus on plot, give me some action. Make me turn pages instead of re-reading lines and trying to figure out wtf the author was trying to say there. I'm a simple farmer who likes to consume pop/genre literature, mostly for entertainment.
To keep readers from losing their minds and their interest, darkness needs to be balanced with humor and at least an occasional glimmer of light. Decades ago, I read a memoir that featured one downer after another. When yet another potentially happy moment turned to utter disaster, I lost patience and quit reading. Surely something good happened at some point in the writer's life, but if so, she wasn't admitting it. A two hundred page dirge is not my idea of enlightenment or entertainment. Neither is a two hundred page Valentine to some famous person. Of course, that does not mean other folks don't find those things absolutely enthralling.
That sounds like what I write. But I don't really consider what I write to be literary.
About two years ago, I read the most depressing novel there is. It was so depressing that I couldn't make it past the first quarter of the book. I had enough of it at some point and just threw it in the trash. I've only ever done that to another book.
I'm no stranger to reading novels about the struggles of life. But this book was artificially dark. It was as if the author enjoyed weaving all that darkness together. They didn't make much of an attempt to weave in or foreshadow something happier. It was just horrible thing after horrible thing...
It did get published with a fancy book cover and everything though, so I guess people enjoyed it. I trashed it and have no regrets.
Yeah. I'm here. Anything that comes to mind might be entirely inappropriate, so I'll say nothing.
There is no place for humour in literary fiction.
There is no place for humour in literary fiction.
I found that, in my experience anyway, there was a feedback loop between me and my writing. When I wrote dark and serious stories, that brought me down. I made the conscious decision to write more light-hearted things, to cheer me up.
I have always found that my "best" writing always takes me by surprise. My more deliberate writing usually turns out to be derivative and borderline trite.
I write stories as they evolve in my head. The editor chose Days of Sun and Shadow as the title for Book II, which I realize kind of describes my mindset as I wrote it. Fortunately, I have the rudiments of a sense of humor, so I hope no one will fling my books into the garbage, even though they contain sections that deal with dark topics. A high school English teacher once noted that what I write and what I read are very different, with my writing subject matter being considerably darker than the books I read for pleasure. I've always appreciated that insight and don't think it would've occurred to me otherwise.
And just like that, it is Saturday again.
There's a little bit of sadness in July coming to an end.
There's a little bit of sadness in July coming to an end.
On midsummer day, my husband announces in gloomy tones, "Winter is coming." On midwinter day, he cheerily remarks, "Summer's on its way."
I do like the change of seasons, though. Always something to look forward to.
When such luxuries are available, I'm sure I'll redirect my efforts. Assuming I live that long. 50/50 at this point.
That's just your sore lip talking.
Ouch...
It hurts like a bastard if I smile, laugh, sneeze, or blow my nose. Going to be an interesting scar, up into the nose and down through the part in the mustache. I was going to shave the handlebar and mutton chops and go clean citizen for a bit, but that's not happening for a bit. I could razor everything and leave the Adolf but that's not happening either.
In other follicle news, my mullet is getting pretty epic. Almost as long as my wife's hair. She's jealous of my growth rate, but the Potvins are genetic super soldiers when it comes to hair. Too bad we're short and squat, but you can't win them all! I'm a veritable giant among the men in my family at 5 foot 9. Of course, with the Italian puberty, I reached my full height when I was 11 and haven't grown since.
We're going over to my sister's today. My contribution is to make a green salad.
I can't wait to get into the pool.
I can't wait to get into the pool.
Random thoughts triggered by Homer's puberty tale.
My son is now 6'3 and appropriately broad, but he was a skinny introverted kid that attracted the attention of bullies. We put him in aikido for a year where he was the only non-adult at 13. Gave him confidence and poise, which was what we intended. The main middle school bully was one of those big kids with knuckles that dragged the ground and a single eye in the center of his forehead. One day Son and two of his skinny introverted friends were waiting for the bus when Bully and two of his henchmen approached. Bully grabbed Son's arm. It wasn't a friendly grasp: his fingers left marks that stayed for several days. Son said, I don't want to fight; let me go. Bully replied, who's gonna make me? Son's friends told me later that they knew Bully as going to hurt Son, so they were going to have to leap into save him, and then they'd all die. Son made one more polite request, Bully got more aggressive. Son said, "Mom, I just wanted to break his hold on my wrist, but when I made my move, he (Bully) went UP in the air and came DOWN on his back." Bully lay still a moment, turned over, crawled away, got to his feet and left with the henchmen, never to be seen again.
We told both our kids, that if they ever started a fight, they would be grounded for life, but if they ever fought to defend themselves or someone else, we'd back them all the way to court, if necessary.
My son is now 6'3 and appropriately broad, but he was a skinny introverted kid that attracted the attention of bullies. We put him in aikido for a year where he was the only non-adult at 13. Gave him confidence and poise, which was what we intended. The main middle school bully was one of those big kids with knuckles that dragged the ground and a single eye in the center of his forehead. One day Son and two of his skinny introverted friends were waiting for the bus when Bully and two of his henchmen approached. Bully grabbed Son's arm. It wasn't a friendly grasp: his fingers left marks that stayed for several days. Son said, I don't want to fight; let me go. Bully replied, who's gonna make me? Son's friends told me later that they knew Bully as going to hurt Son, so they were going to have to leap into save him, and then they'd all die. Son made one more polite request, Bully got more aggressive. Son said, "Mom, I just wanted to break his hold on my wrist, but when I made my move, he (Bully) went UP in the air and came DOWN on his back." Bully lay still a moment, turned over, crawled away, got to his feet and left with the henchmen, never to be seen again.
We told both our kids, that if they ever started a fight, they would be grounded for life, but if they ever fought to defend themselves or someone else, we'd back them all the way to court, if necessary.
