Guilty Pleasures

While some people secretly indulge in masturbation (in the living room with their friend sleeping next to them on the couch: http://tinyurl.com/24znbnl) or more dangerous activities such as self-inflicted harm, I am referring to the comparatively tamer pleasure of enjoying a book that's not very well-written.

We all have a few, right?

As a former fan of the Sweet Valley High and Fearless series(es), I probably shouldn't ever poke fun at what others read (but, of course, still do. Frequently).

For a long time, Stephen King was a guilty pleasure for me. I have recently come to terms with my love for the King, even writing a few blog posts about what an idiot I was previously. The best thing about guilty pleasures, however, is the ways that our mind attempts to find reasons that it's totally okay for us to like these things we think, for whatever reason, we shouldn't like.

If you're a more sophisticated person than me, you probably shrug, say: "It's not very good, but I like it," & continue to indulge yourself.

If you're of a more crazy variety (possibly like me, though I don't think I'd admit to it), you probably come up with "theories" explaining your liking for your guilty pleasure.

All of this babble is an attempt for me to explain my theory as to why Stephen King is the modern-day Shakespeare.

It sounds pompous, I know.

The Bard:

Stephen King:

It might be a little pompous. But I haven't had anyone shoot it down, yet, so my theory still flies around in my brain. (So if you're going to shoot it down, be gentle, lest you cause my brain to hemhorrage.)

My theory mostly has to do with quantity. I am amazed at the sheer amount of work that these two men have managed to create (for King, thus far) in their lifetimes.

Both Shakespeare and King are fairly literary. They were/are smart men who were/are well-read. (From henceforth, I'm going to refer to both Shakespeare's & King's qualities, attributes, & accomplishments in present tense.) They know how to make allusions, and to what they should allude.

Shakespeare and Stephen King also both write about the world in which they live. When you read The Dead Zone, you're reminded that things like speed limits on the highway, and a drinking age of 21 are relatively recent additions to United States law. You can imagine, 200 years from now, people reading King's books in history class, both because it was popular literature, and because it describes the time period we live in very well.

I think Shakespeare and Stephen King are good writers, but not amazing ones. My reasoning for this is probably entirely superficial - it's too easy to understand their work. Maybe I don't get all of the allusions made, but I also don't feel like I have to read a sentence twice to comprehend the meaning, or even just take in its' beauty again. Personally, I have never had trouble exchanging "thee" for "you" in my head, and so Shakespeare has never really seemed like a huge deal to me. I read a book like Nabakov's Lolita and think to myself: "Wow. That was amazing. I will have to read that book again." I read Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet and think to myself: "Wow. Those two were so STUPID. Just like my 18-year-old sister with her boyfriend-of-the-month." Both works have good writing, both works made me feel something, but Shakespeare and King don't make me think as much as I think a literary work needs to in order for me to hail it as something that NEEDS to withstand the test of time. There are the works I WANT my future children and other people's children to go on reading because they open your mind to new possibilities. And there are works like Shakespeare and King that I know my future children and other people's children will read because you can't go into a bookstore without seeing works by those authors, and so they will have some sort of opinion on the authors, just as I do.

With the amount of words that King has had published, I think the likelihood of his work surviving is high, just as Shakespeare's words have thus far survived -- and this is why, in my mind, King is the modern-day Shakespeare.

What is one of your guilty pleasures and/or conspiracy theories? I would love to read it/them in the comments below...

First Impressions: Jodi Picoult

So because I occasionally read another blog with an awesome name, I decided to try reading a Jodi Picoult book.

I had never read her work before because, quite frankly, I had seen a Lifetime movie based on one of her books called "The Pact," and it was really, really horrible, despite having the funny chick from Will & Grace, and I didn't think that the woman who wrote the book that inspired it was my style.

BUT, I trust Possum, who recommended her work to me.

To be fair, it was not as horrible as I expected. At the same time, I did not consider her work to be genius, nor particularly probing.

Jodi Picoult is lauded as a writer who makes her readers really think about difficult issues. So I guess I was expecting something new while I was reading Salem Falls.

In a nutshell, Salem Falls deals with the topics of rape and witchcraft.

I wouldn't say that Picoult dealt with it in a horrible manner. I thought she was sensitive, and I thought that she did a pretty good job of showing multiple facets of rape.

I also, however, thought her book was fairly predictable. The very end of the novel feels like it's supposed to be a twist, something the reader didn't see on a first reading. Well, I saw it, and I saw it within the first third of the novel, which is relatively early.

I did like that the ending wasn't quite so black and white. I was kind of expecting that all of the bad guys were going to be outed, and that the good guy (there was really only one) was going to be exonerated, and if the book had ended that way, I would be decrying it as a piece of unrealistic tripe.

Overall, I can see why Picoult is a bestselling author. Really, I can. It's because she writes like a romance writer, but one who can pretend her books aren't just about love and happy endings and sex. The core of her novels, however, is that love is redeeming. That it "lifts us up where we belong" as some idealist once sang. It's a nice message. Picoult doesn't present it in a very interesting way, however. She presents it in a predictable way.

Being Lazy and Insecure

The problem with yearning to be a writer is a love of reading.

All good writers read - this is something which countless authors have said in countless interviews.

Yet I think one of the problems with my own writing is my love of reading.

I have been wanting to be a writer of some sort since I was in elementary school. I remember sitting in my fourth grade classroom, reading an R.L. Stine "Fear Street" book, thinking to myself, I could write something like this. Then, I would write snippets of the story I was creating in my head, and they did sound like imitation-Stine.

When I was in fifth grade, I wrote a short play about some princess who liked to sing or something (I was very into musicals), and showed it to my teacher, who pretended it was good.

When I was in middle school, I wrote the beginnings of countless stories, and began touting the theory that I didn't like poetry. "There is so much bad poetry out there already," I said to myself, smugly (I was a very smug middle school student). "Why would I want to add to it?" I received the "promising young writer award" or something like that, and my response was - "Of course."

In high school, I wrote a 79 page story about a vampire and a witch who are vying for the same boy's attention, filled with my "insights" into high school life. Then, I took a creative writing class, where I was forced to write poetry for ten weeks, then hurried through writing sketches, a one-act play, and a short story. My teacher liked me and my writing. But I was beginning to feel a sense of disappointment with myself.

As I grow older, my writing, past and present, seems worse. I don't think it actually gets worse, but I think that it doesn't get better, fast enough.

And as I read better and better works of literature, I am no longer capable of rolling my eyes and saying, "I could do that." I'm more prone to sighing wistfully, and saying, "I would give anything to one day write something as great as that."

As my reading grows, so does my opinion of a good book. I'm now in my twenties, and I feel like my writing should be coming more easily, now. I should have better first drafts, or be better at revising them. The ideas in my mind should fall more easily on the page. My understanding of human behavior shouldn't be so naive.

Ultimately, I should be able to write something I would want to read.

Nothing I write, unfortunately, is very good. It's okay. It's better than some of the writing out there. I could post it on the internet, and feel safe in the knowledge that it's not the worst thing out there. Yet, I don't. It may be good enough to get a few reads on the internet, but is it good enough to be published? Is it written well enough to deserve readers? I don't know. I doubt it.

It's so hard to write something, and not feel like I'm wasting my time.

It's so much easier to curl up with a book that's well-written. To become lost in a world that someone else created.

And so, you see - it is my avid reading that has inspired a decrease in my writing. There is such better writing out there than anything falling from my pen, or keystrokes. And it's just so much easier to read what others have done than to create something of my own.