The Sorrows of Young Werewolf (eyeteeth) wrote,
The Sorrows of Young Werewolf

Back slowly away from the box

What's this? Could it be two phoned-in comics? Yes! Leave me alone, I've been working a lot and I really did have a cold and a hangover at the same time on Sunday. The cold, which lingers, is an odd one: it consists primarily of a hacking cough, "productive," as the medical term is, accompanied by aches and pains. I don't have TB, do I? I've been reading Kafka's America, but you can't get TB from a book, can you? Kafka's TB ended ninety-one years ago, when it killed him.

But forget about that, I'm going to apply for a fellowship to spend a month in France writing a novel. I happen to have two novels on the hob right now, and as the grantees specify that "applicants should send their strongest unpublished work from the project they intend to work on during the residency," I'm thinking I should send them something from Zeppo and Friends rather than Novel Prime, because Novel Prime has vampires in it and is therefore genre trash. Zeppo and his friends are all serial killers, but they are not supernatural, at least not overtly. Really in a sense both novels are fantasies, but one is your common-or-garden everything's-the-same-except-there-are-vampires low fantasy, like my low fantasy hero, Mary Norton, and the other sneaks up on you because it's this weird Virginia Woolf psychodrama except there are people killing each other and it's all love and sex and death turned up to eleven and actually not very different from America, the book that gave me TB, in that these things all exist but not as Kafka portrays them, as being big slabs and landscapes composed of crystallized anxiety. Except in my case it's not crystallized anxiety it's -- what? An endless series of set pieces about how love between human beings is bizarre and painful and impossible except for how it keeps happening. That sounds like Real Literature, doesn't it? Not genre trash?
Tags: americastoppushingiknowwhati'mdoing, franz kafka, give me your money, mary norton, reading, stix, writing
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