Impact!: "A Dreambook For Our Time" by Tadeusz Konwicki

I was the tender age of seventeen when I came across this wonderful novel by Polish novelist Tadeusz Konwicki while cutting school and browsing around Coliseum Books on W57th Street. It was 1983 and my mind was bursting with the immense possibilities of this world, feeling inspired and unwilling to deal with the boredom and the nonsense of high school - hence my “vacation day” and a trip to midtown to spend the day which was then my favorite bookstore. I didn’t go there that day to look for anything in particular - it was more a way to ‘feed the head’, to be surrounded by books rather than to be surrounded by idiots in the classroom. Coliseum was one of those bookstores where you could literally find just about anything and I was in the mood to read something that would make one think a little, something a little intelligent, and something that would go along with my then growing interest in what was going on in the world. It was a time in my life when I felt the urge to understand, explore and learn. It was Punk Rock and other politically/socially minded music I had been listening to at the time which furthered this desire to know more about the world around me. 

In the news, the Solidarity movement in Poland was reaching fever pitch and the new Polish Pope was making headlines as well, supporting the movement in his native land. The Cold War was at its height and America’s new president, Ronald Reagan, was scaring the shit out of a lot of people with his tough talk against the Soviets. So it seemed appropriate that I happened upon this book when I did. It seemed to fit in with what was going on at the time and it looked like something quite different from the usual Stephen King or other Sci-Fi/Horror paperbacks I had been reading up until that time. This was the novel that opened the door to other literary possibilities to explore. 

As for the story, in brief: a former Polish partisan awakens in his landlady’s living room after trying to poison himself. He is surrounded by a colorful cast of characters - including another former partisan with only one hand - each dealing with their day to day lives, problems, issues, each dealing with the effects of war and feeling trapped between the former horrors of the Nazi invasions and the current plight under the thumb of the Soviets. The narrator’s memories of hiding out in the forest and fighting off the Nazis become infused with the present day story: the concern of the townsfolk that their home would be destroyed by the construction of a dam. There are many “ghosts” in that forest which is threatened to be wiped out by the dam’s construction - sort of symbolizing the “burying” of the past - in essence wiping it out. It is a tricky narrative as well, with no separation between the present day story and the memories of the main character. A truly wonderful read, from what I remember. 

Little did I know that this book would, in a few years time, have a more personal resonance for me (concerning an affair or sorts with a woman who’s family had dealt with the horrors this book speaks of) and it only made it that much more resonant. This was the book that opened the floodgates, the book that lead me towards discovering a whole new world out there and the literary possibilities that existed. I consider it a stepping stone to other great things: great novels, yes, but also a new way of looking at the world around me. 

Impressions: "Freedom" by Jonathan Franzen

It’s taken me two years since the release of this novel to finally get around to reading it. In fact, it’s taken me up until April 2012 to get around reading Jonathan Franzen at all. The reason for such a delay in reading a novelist who has been both lauded and despised with equal measure was simply the fact that there were a billion other books and authors I wanted to read first, not out of some reactionary rejection over the fact that Franzen is a “popular” author or the fact that this novel in particular was designated an official “Oprah Book.” Nevertheless, I’ve heard a hell of a lot of people talk of Franzen over the years and have read quite a few articles about his writing and about the author himself, none of which had any sense of balance. Either he was loved and praised as the “savior of American fiction” or hated and despised. 

Two perfect examples can be found in these two articles. The first is by Jonathan Jones from the U.K.’s Guardian, which praises Franzen as a “genius” and calls this novel “The novel of the century” and the second is from The Atlantic’s literary critic B.R. Myers, who, with this article around the time of the novel’s release, was noted for “taking down” Franzen, exposing him for the fraud that Myers - and many others - saw him to be. Just Google Franzen and you will not see a shortage of opinions about him. So naturally, my curiosity was piqued and I knew at some point I would have to read him and see what the fuss was all about. 

I chose “Freedom” because it was his most recent novel and this was the novel that either established him as “The Great American Novelist” as Time Magazine’s cover story had referred to him or the writer of “juvenile prose” who had written a “monument to nothing” as B.R. Myers concluded. I was a little apprehensive because I didn’t really know what to expect. Was this really going to be a waste of time, was it going to be “hipster bullshit”, or was this going to be something worthwhile? I came to this novel trying to put aside all the biases from either the pro or anti-Franzen camp and read it with an open mind. 

Part of the reason why I think Franzen ignites such vitriol in some is because of all the attention he had been getting over the years. Couple that with some of the dumb things he had said in his interviews, the “infamous” snub of Oprah, among other things (one thing I personally always disagreed with was his notion that he “doubted that anyone with an internet connection in their workspace is writing good fiction.” That’s a personal matter and patently untrue). He also has “the look” that some people associate with an “Author”: the studious, serious looking man of letters and sometimes I think there are those out there - whether they are writers or just lovers of literature - who are actively looking for someone to believe in, someone to breathe life back into what they see as the dearth of quality in American contemporary fiction. This same “look” also seems to rub people the wrong way (according to a lot of blog comments), coming off as “smug” and “pompous.” They, like a lot of people often do, equate the person with the work and find a hard time separating the two. I don’t know Franzen, though I have seen him on many a talk show on C-Span over the years. He didn’t come off as all that pompous to me, but then again, I didn’t really care one way or the other, although I was interested in what he had to say about the current state of American fiction. 

Another reason, I suspect, is his extreme popularity. It has been my experience that a lot of writers are by nature fiercely competitive. Not all writers, of course, but many, something I never quite understood. Franzen is what they want to be: acknowledged, praised, recognized, and most importantly, famous. I have found that the louder the critic - particularly among younger writers - the more famous they desire to be. What seems to drive their anger is that they feel that they deserve that recognition and that respect and that fame and resent the fact that someone they see as inferior to them is getting all that attention while they toil away in obscurity. It’s a natural feeling, one that I do understand, believe me but I can’t help get the feeling that those who simply hate Franzen desire to be in the position that he is in at the moment. From my browsing around the internet and reading comments and message boards, etc, many a writer would kill to be as well known as Franzen currently is. But all this has absolutely nothing to do with the work. The bottom line is: Did Franzen write a good book? 

So, I finally decided to dip my toe into the Franzen waters and see what all the fuss is about and I have to say, with all honesty, I was quite surprised. I was half-expecting a pompous, “clever,” highly “Literary” novel (despite my efforts to come to it with no biases), filled with self-conscious “literary” experiments, catering to those who love their books highbrow and difficult. “Freedom” is certainly not this. What you have here is a pretty straightforward story and Franzen’s style is quite ordinary if you ask me. Very well written but ordinary. By the time I got 100 pages in, I kept asking myself what the hell the fuss was all about. Franzen is neither the “Great American Novelist” nor is he deserving of all the hatred being thrown at him. It is actually a very good book with a very good story being told, one that kept me engaged to the very end. Was it a work of “genius”? Absolutely not, nor was it terrible or pretentious. Just a straightforward tale, one in which people of my generation could easily relate to (although Franzen and his characters are quite a few years older than I am.) Nor is it a “perfect” novel by any stretch. There were many times where I felt it could have been a much shorter book and I found myself skimming over large sections of the story, sections I thought the book could have easily have done without. It could have been “tighter”, but that’s just me and how I prefer a novel to read. One gets the feeling that Franzen was so in love with these characters he had a hard time letting them go and wrote on and on and on until he could finally bring it to a conclusion. Personally, I felt that if the book had ended on page 535, it would have been much more powerful an ending, leaving the reader to wonder what happened next. Instead, he seemed to choose the route that would tie everything up, not necessarily neatly, but enough to satisfy those who prefer an ending that reads “The End.” Overall he has a very good story here and one does become so engaged with the characters he created you truly want to follow them and see what happens.  

Is he “The Great American Novelist?” Not by a long shot, but one could definitely argue that he is a very good novelist based on this one book. (If you ask me Cormac McCarthy is more deserving of that title in contemporary fiction). I kept asking myself why were the passions so high on either side of the Franzen debate? Why has he become either the “savior” or the “whipping boy” to a lot of people? 

I think a lot of it comes from the fact that there are a lot of people out there who are passionate about literature and writing in general who are desperately looking for someone to believe in, someone to carry the torch so to speak. Back in the day when novelists were of more importance to our culture, you had people like Hemingway, Mailer, Faulkner, etc, that people could “look to.” The novel, as an art form, has unfortunately become less and less important in our culture and novelists in particular have become nothing more than providers of entertainment for the overwhelming majority of the population. It’s really only die-hard readers and writers and lovers of literature who find the novelist to be more important to the culture than he/she currently is for most people. I’m one of those who feel they are and should be more important to the culture at large but the fact of the matter is they no longer are. Television, film, music, popular culture in general has usurped the “importance” of the novelist in our culture. Add to this the fact that since the 1980s (in my estimation, anyway) art forms have become more compartmentalized and more abundant. There are a billion different categories and subcategories for everything that one can be renowned in their genre (so to speak) and be ignored by the overwhelming majority of people yet still make a name for himself. It isn’t so one-dimensional anymore. What people consider “Literature” now can be broken into a million different factions. So those who are very into Serious Literature are seeking someone to carry the torch in the same manner that the past masters have. Who exactly are the new Hemingways, Mailers and Faulkners? Do they even exist? Will they even exist anymore? So people will grab anyone that comes along that shows promise and foist their expectations upon them, only to be disappointed by them when they discover that perhaps that’s not what their intentions are to begin with. How many novelists have been looked to as the Literary Messiah over the past two decades and how many have actually lived up to that? Perhaps the novelist’s position in our culture has been permanently diminished, or perhaps that “messiah” is yet to emerge. Franzen certainly isn’t it, although he did write a good, entertaining novel here. 

I don’t know if Franzen himself has embraced the role those want to give to him or not. Perhaps he has, and this is why there’s such a backlash against him. But if he didn’t, and all he is attempting to do is write good books with a good story to tell, then it is the fault of others who pinned their high hopes on someone who simply wasn’t and isn’t looking to carry that torch; and that’s what usually happens whenever anyone seeks a messiah to “save” them. 

“Freedom” was a very enjoyable book. Not a work of genius and not a load of shit either. Perhaps it should be approached devoid of all the hype and vitriol and be judged for what it is rather than what it was supposed to be. That may be the problem here, then again, people have a right to their own opinions and judgment - and this is my opinion, my judgment, for what it’s worth. 

Rating: * * * 1/2 

New Short Story eBook: "Icon"

My new short story eBook, "Icon" is now available in both ePub and Kindle Editions. Just follow the link for more information. 

COMING SOON: “MEDITERRÁNEO”

What would they do once the fire goes out?  

Two lifelong friends, Gianni Mazzaro and Matteo Radicci, set off on their summer travel, an annual ritual since their college days. This year it’s the Mediterranean, the first stop being a small village in the mountains of southern Italy - a town in which both their families hailed from. They soon discover that their ancestral town has one foot in the twenty-first century, one foot still firmly rooted in the past, where some of the locals are still clinging to ancient folkways, vendettas and superstitious beliefs. Something dark had taken place in the village some three decades earlier and the mere arrival of the two friends - and Gianni in particular -  sets off a chain of events that will shake this sleepy village to its very core.

I am happy to announce that my new novel, “Mediterráneo”, is scheduled for release sometime in late June/mid July of this year. I have to say I had a hell of a lot of fun writing this over the past year and a half. It was begun in January 2011 and completed in March of 2012. Don’t let the “sunny” imagery the title invokes fool you. This is probably the strangest, darkest thing I’ve ever written and it certainly may not be for everyone. It’s a little hard to describe what kind of novel this is but let’s say that it’s something of a cross between a “Mediterranean Noir" and a Gothic thriller with dashes of “Transgressive Fiction” thrown in for good measure. The story here is totally fictional, of course, but it’s origins lie in my own genealogical research regarding my own family who also hail from southern Italy, Sicily and North Africa. More information is soon to follow but in the meantime, have a look at the book’s cover above. 

Naturally this is the point where I shamelessly hawk my previous three novels: “November Rust” (2007), “Nadería” (2011) and “Be Still and Know That I Am” (2011). All three are available in paperback and eBook editions (both ePub and Kindle). I want to take the time to thank those who bought these three novels over the past couple of years. I am eternally grateful and thank you profusely for doing so. For more information about these three previous novels, you can find them via review/interviews conducted by the talented Garry Crystal, who is an author in his own right with two eBooks currently available. You can find them here and here.  

Onward...

Impressions: "The Anchor Book of Modern Arabic Fiction" by Various Authors, edited by Denys Johnson-Davies

An excellent primer for those who are interested in exploring the world of Arab fiction and authors. Some known to the English speaking world, others unknown, writing from across the breadth of the Arab speaking world: Egypt, Lebanon, Syria, Morocco, Iraq, Yemen, Tunisia, Libya, Algeria and Sudan, though most of these novel excerpts and short stories are Egyptian. 

My personal favorites here are Alaa Al Aswany, Hala El Badry (Egypt), Hoda Barakat (Lebanon), Mohammed Barada and Mohammed Choukri (Morocco), (Choukri’s novels are available in English, translated by Paul Bowles - said to be an illiterate who learned how to read and write at the age of 21. Many of his novels were banned in Morocco due to their subject matter. A writer definitely worth exploring), Ahmad Faqi (Libya), Emile Habiby (Palestine), Tawfik al-Hakim (Egypt), Bensalim Himmich (Morocco) just to name a few. 

What the Western reader will find here is writing that is uniquely suited to Arab and Islamic culture as well as a fusion between the Arab world and the best of the classic Western literature, since much of western literature began to filter its way down to the Arab world via colonialism and the fact that many of these writers had studied abroad, mostly in Europe, and the western influence is quite evident on many of these tales. But they all give a little insight into the customs and mores of the Arab world and while some of these stories and excerpts may be weaker than others, the great majority of them are well worth exploring for those who wish to venture beyond the literature of the western world. Definitely recommended. 

Rating: * * * *    

Impressions: "Divorce Islamic Style" by Amara Lakhous

I absolutely loved this novel. One of those off-beat, smart, novels you don’t often come across these days. The author, Amara Lakhous, is an Algerian, living in Italy, writing in Italian. “Divorce Islamic Style” is his second novel. (His first was “Clash of Civilizations Over an Elevator on the Piazza Vittorio” - a novel I definitely intend to read).  

Told in alternating chapters between Christian Mazzari, aka “Issa”, a Sicilian court translator who speaks flawless Arabic is asked by the Italian Secret Service to pose as a recently arrived Tunisian immigrant to help flush out a terrorist cell in the Viale Marconi neighborhood of Rome. He ingratiates himself into the lives of the people of the neighborhood, playing his part to the hilt, blending in seamlessly; and “Sofia”, a young beautiful Egyptian woman who is married to a devout Muslim who is only one declaration away of a final divorce. Sofia struggles with tradition and her new Westernized surroundings, torn between her right to be free and to be the dutiful Muslim wife. These two story lines converge throughout the novel until the final scene which will leave you scratching your head, questioning the notion of what is real and what isn’t. 

The title of the book plays on the old Italian film “Divorce Italian Style” and is referenced throughout, a sort of updated, Islamic version in some ways. Packed with information on Islamic culture and the detailed lives of immigrants living and struggling in their new surroundings, this novel will no doubt foster a better understanding about the times we are living in - where everything and everyone is not beyond suspicion and everything and everyone may not be what they seem. A truly great read and a young author to keep an eye out for.  

Rating: * * * * * 

Be the Change You Want to See

Critics - whether professional or layperson - you got to love 'em. I suppose it has always gone with the territory but sometimes you just have to wonder about them. A lot of them seem jaded, sometimes for good reason, other times not. There are times when you just have to wonder whether certain people just make it their mission in life to tear down rather than build up. For the artist, the critic is something of a double-edged sword. We love them when they praise us, hate them when they slam us and wonder what their purpose is. I see their purpose: to help spread the word about what's worthy or to steer us away from what isn't. The problem is that it's purely subjective. We've all read reviews and critiques about our favorite artists and we don't always think the critic knows what he/she is talking about. Other times, we agree wholeheartedly - and that depends, of course, on your own sensibilities. It isn't so much that we take a critic's word as gospel. We often use their critiques to validate what we already think. 


Perhaps I should stop clicking on links and visiting various websites about writing - and the arts in general - because all it does is serve as a frustrating experience for me at times. But I can’t help it. It’s a topic that interests me greatly and I’m always curious to read what others have to say about a particular topic. The great thing about the advent of the internet is that it opens up the world to voices that would have remained anonymous otherwise. Some may argue that perhaps that’s the way it should have remained but I tend to think the more voices out there, the better. There’s always plusses and minuses. But when it comes to the arts, there is no shortage of opinions, critiques, theories, etc, and sometimes if you give someone the ability to have something to say about it, their first instinct is to slam it and tell everyone how much something sucks rather than what’s good out there. I happen to think there’s a hell of a lot of good things out there - both via the corporate avenues and independent avenues. You just have to look for it and focus your attention on that rather than what “sucks.” Perhaps this problem can be solved by critics who point out what’s right, rather than always pointing out what’s wrong. That would be a start.  

I realize there is a difference between a professional critic and someone sitting at home with a laptop and the ability to string a sentence together but ultimately they’re both dealing with the same thing: opinion. Okay, one may have had years of study in their particular department which gives them a sort of “expertise” on the matter, but essentially what you are getting is one person’s opinion and we all know that even professional critics don’t always agree on the same thing. For the “layman” or for a person who just wants to get an idea about what’s what on a particular thing, they are often left bewildered, not knowing what to think. I read criticism all the time, or even just the capsule reviews you’ll find in a magazine or in the Village Voice, or wherever else. Most of the time I find that the “critique” is more about the critic than it is about the thing he or she is writing about and you’re left with 500-600 piece of namedropping and carefully constructed snark and very rarely much about the film, or book, or musician, or artist. This is why I have never based my own opinion on what a critic has to say about it. I have enough confidence in my own critical abilities to determine whether something is for me or not.  We all do - and with art being such a subjective thing by its very nature, it’s truly difficult to come to a conclusion with any sense of “certainty.”  

Some of us out there are exposed to more than others and that will often determine how and what we think about a particular thing. I’ll admit that a literature professor has more knowledge and has been exposed to more than the average reader who just randomly chooses a book on the shelf and then writing about it on their blog. I’ve admitted that much for myself. I’m no “expert” in any of these matters but I feel I’ve been exposed to enough to get a general sense of what I’m talking about. Some disagree. Whatever. We’re dealing with opinions here, regardless of how much knowledge on a particular subject one may have. Subjectivity is at the heart of all this. But I'm speaking more of the lay-critic, the bloggers, the zine writers (if they even exist anymore), the website critics than I am of the professional critics, although they, too, have some culpability here. 

There are a hell of a lot of people out there decrying the current state of art, music, literature, film, name your topic. A lot of the time, I tend to agree with them about it but the one thing I've also noticed is that no one is doing anything about it other than crowing about it on their blogs, websites, newspaper articles, speeches, etc. This is particularly true in the realm of literature. If everything is so bad, and everything is in such dire straits, what’s being done to actually change it? You hear about the desperate need for "Gatekeepers" yet they are  always complaining about the very thing the "Gatekeepers" are letting in.

Here’s where any creative person comes in - and particularly young people. Instead of crowing about it, be the change you want to see, as Gandhi once said.  The current state of literature is dismal? Then write the books that will correct the problem. The state of visual arts is pathetic? Then create the art that will be more meaningful and appealing. The state of films are nothing but Hollywood schlock and cynical attempts to just make money? Make the films that will be of more importance. And so on. All the energy that is expended writing endless articles and essays about how bad everything is does nothing to make the changes they want to see and all we’re left with is noise and complaints with rarely anyone doing anything to make things better. Start the publishing companies that will publish better books. Start the production companies that will produce better films. Start the record labels that will issue better music. Open the galleries that will show better art. And those self-appointed critics? How about you come up with the very thing you wish to see yourself other than moaning about why others aren't doing it?   

Like with anything else - independent or corporate - the best stuff will rise to the top and will last. The rest will be forgotten. It’s the natural order of things. And perhaps what people consider crap these days will be forgotten and wither away into obscurity. We all have the ability to change it if one is willing to be proactive about it and make that change. Complaining about it alone will do nothing. Action will. That change will not happen if people leave it up to those who they are complaining about to do it. So be the change you want to see and use that energy and that fire to get things done rather than just complaining about it. 

Impressions: "Tuareg" by Alberto Vazquez-Figueroa

It would only figure that recent events would coincide with me reading this novel (the Tuareg rebellion in Mali). Tuareg culture is something of a recent fascination for me so I was eager to read this book. 

Set in what appears to be the desert lands of Algeria around the time of its independence, a Tuareg named Gazel Sayah rules over a vast stretch of desert, still governed by ancient laws and traditions, completely cut off from the political events taking place in the capital. Two fugitives arrive at his camp and according to the ancient laws of hospitality, Gazel invites them in. Meanwhile the fugitives are being pursued by military officers of the recently formed government. During the night, one of the fugitives is killed and the other hauled away. This is a supreme insult to the Tuareg customs and Gazel pursues the offenders and takes his revenge. The military now pursues Gazel, who leads them across the hot, barren desert - a land he knows well - in a cat and mouse game which will only end in tragedy. 

I liked the story here but was a little disappointed by it’s 1940s Hollywood adventure-like feel, although that was also part of its appeal. I suppose I was expecting more about the culture of the Tuaregs (which is definitely here) but not done in the way it was done. By the novel’s end it was hard to tell what the message here was: remaining true to your culture despite modernity or the ancient customs time has come and its time to move into modernity. I suppose he left that up to the reader to decide for himself. 

All in all not a bad book but not a great one but that could be because my expectations were too high. There is a little of a Cohelo feel to this. A recommended read for the insights into Tuareg culture but not an essential one. For those interested in the culture may want to check this out. 

Rating: * * * 

To Thine Own Self Be True

My literary education has been primarily self-taught. I never took a writing class or workshop (unless you count a creative writing class I took in high school, which I don’t) nor do I have an MFA or even applied to the program. I’ve learned what I have learned up to this point through reading and advice and recommendations from others. There were two writers in particular that pushed me towards wanting to write a novel: Henry Miller and Jack Kerouac. I always loved these two writers and count them as two of my major early influences. Reading them lead to others, and those lead to others, and so on and so on. My reading, in essence, was trial by error, picking up books from writers that other writers mentioned and admired. I imagine a lot of writers have done just this. I didn’t get my recommendations from professors or writing instructors, so it’s not that much of a surprise that some of what is “essential reading” for writers, I’ve never read or just haven’t gotten around to yet (although I intend to correct this at some point.) The point is, whether it be reading writers other writers admired or simple “trial and error” while spending time at The Strand or any other bookstore around New York, that’s how I came to all this and in a way, I like it. It was exactly how I came to discover my favorite musicians over my lifetime. So I do not come from the typical literary background that most writers who have aspired to do this since birth normally come from. I’m learning as I go. I have my thoughts and opinions on literary matters (such as they are) but I do not claim to be an expert. There is still a hell of a lot I don’t know and in a way, that’s what makes it all very exciting and inspiring to me. You just never know what’s around the corner or behind any new door that presents itself to you along the journey. 

My starting point was 20th century literature, George Orwell being a very early favorite, then came Milan Kundera, Tadeusz Konwicki and Kurt Vonnegut. But it was the Beat writers that really opened it all up to me. The Beats and the Moderns. There was something about these books that really spoke to me in a way the “classics” did not. I’ve read some of the classics, of course, and enjoyed many of them but they didn’t resonate with me in the same way Kerouac and Miller did, or Céline, or Hemingway, or Cortázar. The Moderns, the Post-Moderns, these were the authors I gravitated towards, both novelists and poets. I can’t really explain why but the works from these authors really spoke to me and the best thing is that there were and are others who I’ve yet to discover. Each year I come across more of these wonderful books and authors who I find incredibly inspiring and educational. If I had to give an answer as to why they did, it was because they were writers willing to do something different, who bucked convention and did things their own way, the way they wanted. Not that their work wasn’t grounded in the classics (most, if not all of them, were) but whatever was there was pushed far in the background and what you had was something unique, something daring or at the very least, interesting. At least to me. 

So I suppose it would come as no surprise that my first attempt at a novel would be to write the kind of book I enjoyed reading. That novel (“November Rust”) took me 7 years to complete and in the end I didn’t quite know what it was I had there. To make a long story short, I basically shelved the thing for a couple of years before deciding to release it in early 2007. In the meantime, I had begun another novel, mainly to see if I had another in me, and that one, too, (“Nadería”) took about the same length of time to write and that was because at that point, I was struggling with the idea of what kind of writer I wanted to be. For most of the last decade I struggled with this and I eventually came to the conclusion that I needed to step back and reassess what I was trying to do. What was my goal?  What did I want to achieve?  What was truly in my heart?  “Nadería” was the novel that answered that question for me and once I figured it out, I was able to complete it.  

All of the above is in reaction to a lot of internet browsing the past year or so, surfing many writer’s sites, blogs, forums, etc and the one thing I noticed above all else is that everyone has an opinion on literature and literary matters and each and every one of them is different. Some will insist that their view is the correct one that everyone must follow, while others take the exact opposite view, insisting their view is the correct way to go. For any writer who is learning - or even those who are just beginning - it can be a very overwhelming endeavor. Just what is the “correct” way to go about it? 

Well, after years of soul searching and reading and trying to learn, I’ve come to the conclusion that one must simply go with what’s in them. Keep open minded, of course, and learn as much as you can but ultimately whatever vision you have, whatever goal you want to achieve, set your sights on it and get down to it. I had my own creative epiphany about two years ago when I decided to take a step back and reassess what it was I was trying to do and since then I’ve been able to unclog the drain so to speak and I’ve been able to write more, experiment with different ideas and actually enjoy it, rather than feeling I was knocking my head against the wall each time I sat down to write. In the end, it all depends on what your goals are and for me, personally, it’s trying to find the middle ground between writing something interesting while at the same time trying to get whatever ideas I want to get across in an entertaining way - to write a story that will make people think about it for a while without being “too heavy” about it. I want what I do to be as good as my abilities allow me to be, with always an eye looking towards expanding and improving with each new project. I’m not trying to be the next David Foster Wallace. I’m trying to be myself - for better or for worse. 

There’s a lot out there about all matters literary - to what’s great about it to what’s wrong with it all and there’s no dearth of opinions on the matter and the differing camps aren’t in short supply, that’s for sure. It does interest me to read about it all but in the end it just gives me a headache - especially when writers begin sniping at one another, trying to ignite literary feuds and all the rest of it. None of that interests me nor do I want any part of that. I simply don’t care. Each writer is someone different (that is if they are actually being true to themselves and not just aping what’s “popular” or catering to a certain sensibility.) Yes, there are better writers than others. That’s no surprise. There’s always someone better than you and always someone you’re better than (rendering the concept of “best” sort of irrelevant if you ask me) and we all have differing opinions on what’s worth reading and what isn’t. In other words there’s a hell of a lot of noise out there and from my point of view the best thing to do is ignore the noise and keep focused on what you are trying to accomplish. Some will come along, others will not. But those that do come along, it makes it all even more worthwhile knowing that you connected to them in some way, that what you created resonated, had an effect, and that only enhances the creative fulfillment which makes us do this in the first place. 

Shakespeare said, “To thine own self be true.” 

Believe it.