I read two articles on Jonathan Franzen at lunch today: one penned by a Financial Times writer who interviewed him over a self-consciously mid-range English lunch, the other written by an inmate in a federal prison headlined: Stop Sending me Jonathan Franzen Novels.
One pseudo-fawning, the other an impatiently brutal takedown, both ultimately an indictment of an over-privileged and hugely successful white dude who can't quite admit he was born on third base.
In any case, I enjoyed the dismantling. I re-read The Corrections earlier this year and found the tone so sneering and tone-deaf and cliche'd, I wondered how I'd enjoyed so much the first time.
There's a shadow constantly hovering at my shoulder. For all my gallivanting into the social whirl, nevermind the positive social media...
Ever wondered what it takes to get a piece of fiction published? I'm not talking New Yorker type of prose. That's a rarefied world ...
Check out my new video, a brief reading from a story published this past spring in Opossum.
Welp, after a half-year experiment in social media, BSP has returned to its blogger roots. I hated Faceborkland, tbh. Sure, it was easier t...