Monday, November 8, 2010
Manic Monday November 8
Unlike some people we know.
Thanks to The Boston Bibliophile it has come to my attention that certain columnists (and other bookish folk) are heaping scorn and contempt on the heads of those who, you know, have the audacity to want to write a book.
Now to be fair, some of us (myself included) have deliberately set out to write a perfectly dreadful book of 50,000 words.
How dare we.
I can see why people who are involved in bookish business might heap contumely scorn on peasants, plebeians, and other riff raff who have the unmitigated gall to want to write a book without their permission.
Why, we might actually ask one of them to read the thing.
You can see where this kind of thing might lead. Man the gates! The barbarians are trying to enter the hallowed halls of literariness through an unsanctioned door.
I would take umbrage at this kind of thing, if I had the time. But, you see, I need to go work on my novel. And I'm going to make it really, really bad. And now I know just who to send it to.