So, I’m a Literary Elitist Twat

I poo poo bad writing. Like I have the right. I’m American. So there. I don’t know, maybe I’m in the wrong here. It is obnoxious, the nay-saying. Bad creators have been spilling their sewage in the masses’ drinking water since creating began. If not for shit work, we’d have no decent perspective to examine the good. It can’t be all good. But does it have to be mostly bad?

Not that I enjoy bitter critics. I’m one of those people that wholly believe that those who cannot do, critique (harshly). That comes out of my own experience. I enjoy good, fair, elevating criticism that pushes your boundaries and makes you work harder, but asshole critics that say meaniehead things are just useless. And yet, I do it. Oh lo Hypocrisy, thy art my master. But, at least they mostly deserve it, the shit ones.

Writers, you want to be my friend. You really do. It’s not that I have power. No, I have no power and I’m grateful for that. I am just honest. If you ask me to read your work and I think it needs work, I’m not going to tell you it’s good, if that’s what you want to hear, don’t bother. And if I say, “this is fucking fantastic,” well, it’s fucking fantastic. I mean it.

I think, though, what bothers me most about bad creators… is that they usually have annoying personalities to go along with their crappy efforts. Writing seems to come the easiest to the people that do it the worst. I’m sorry, but if you can bang out your sci/fi, steampunk, mystery thriller romance in two weeks and you’re so assured of your skill that you can’t help but smile at the grace of the sun, you suck. I say that with no bones. I’ve seen it. And you’ll probably get published. And get movie deal after movie deal after movie deal.

My compass does not lie in structure or grammar or rules. I break all the boring rules in my own writing, because fuck you. In fact, I’m waiting for an inventor to create some sort of self punishment device for bad grammar modification for myself. I’ll need an adverb setting, a comma setting and an ellipses setting. I’m terrible.  So grammar, all that is temporary and aside from my major point.  My compass lies in emotion and how it is conveyed. My conviction swims in poetry. I was a poet way, way before I ever attacked prose. All of that other stuff surrounds the emotion and builds it up or knocks it down and so it is important, but there are many sources for that and you can find them. If you want to know if your words have heart, have meaning, have BEAUTY and have relevance to a creature that has more emotion than most, you come to me.

I sound so arrogant and self assured here, like I am the be all end all judge of decent words. No, not at all. Don’t mistake me. But, I don’t exactly have much else. I can’t do much else well but create. My skill lies in my passion. And I have passion. Too much passion. I’m a severely jaded, sorely abused, half dead revenent of a  Brontë sister. So full of love, romance and passion but unloved and unknown to any man’s unselfish soul, so I put my heart and my broken pieces in my prose and I expect everyone else to as well. And if you have no heart, no passion, no soul, I have no use for you. Your presence offends my nature. Go away.

I’ll give you examples of beautiful writing and I’ll give you an example of maybe some of the shittiest writing on the face of the earth. Tell me I’m wrong.

“Girls were born knowing how destructive the truth could be. They learned to hold it in, tamp it down, like gunpowder in an old fashioned gun. Then it exploded in your face on a November day in the rain.”


“That kind of tenderness couldn’t be permitted to last. You only got a taste, enough to know what perfection meant, and then you paid for it the rest of your life. Like the guy chained to a rock, who stole fire. The gods made an eagle eat his liver for all eternity. You paid for every second of beauty you managed to steal. ”


“So many things in the world have happened before. But it’s like they never did. Every new thing that happens to a person, it’s a first… In that night I felt expansion, as if the world was branching out in shoots and growing faster than the eye could see. I felt smallness, how the earth divided into bits and kept dividing. I felt stars.”

“I hold his name close as my own blood and I will never let it out. I only spoke it that once so he would know he was alive.”

“Even when it started to snow she did not lose her sense of direction. Her feet grew numb, but she did not worry about the distance. The heavy winds couldn’t blow her off course. She continued. Even when her heart clenched and her skin turned crackling cold it didn’t matter, because the pure and naked part of her went on. The snow fell deeper that Easter than it had in forty years but June walked over it like water and came home.”
ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhgrosssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
(I had to separate them somehow, sorry… I just can’t leave just a blank space between the skill and the drivel, because that might insinuate that just because they’re all collections of words, they might belong together).
“Olivia leaps up and retrieves my jacket, which Grey takes from her before she can hand it to me. He holds it up and, feeling ridiculously self-conscious, I shrug it on. Grey places his hands for a moment on my shoulders. I gasp at the contact. If he notices my reaction, he gives nothing away. His long index finger presses the button summoning the elevator, and we stand waiting – awkwardly on my part, coolly self-possessed on his. The doors open, and I hurry in desperate to escape. I really need to get out of here. When I turn to look at him, he’s leaning against the doorway beside the elevator with one hand on the wall. He really is very, very good-looking. It’s distracting. His burning gray eyes gaze at me.”
I tried to skim through an excerpt of Twilight to post here, but I just can’t do it. No fortitude.  After reliving the good quotes, which literally reduce me to shambles just reading them once again, I can’t. If you want to know who the authors are, here… the first two quotes are from Paint It Black by Janet Fitch. That book inspired the title of my own novel, Until Her Darkness Goes. The next three are from the first book that blew my mind. I think I was 14 when I read it. That is Love Medicine by Louise Erdrich. The last quote is the very last paragraph of her first chapter. That is the first and last novel that made me fall in profound love and understanding with a character in just the turn of a few pages and then killed her off in the first chapter. Yes, June died in that snow. She froze to death. It was suicide.
The abomination quote is similarly, the last paragraph of a first chapter… Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L. James. I think I liked Thatcher more than I like E.L. James, as far as English women go. I love the UK with all my heart and soul, I just think that James needs to be kicked out before I move there. We can trade places. She can come live in hellhole Arizona where I live, a state that just loves to victimise women and make them less than human, also where she can be neighbors with her golden cow  Stephanie Meyer and I can go live in England. All settled.
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s