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I'm a bit of a hypocrite when it comes to my reading. I will deride and verbally mutilate anything on which the writer's name is written larger than the title. I hate the supermarket slush machine that is the publishing industry, and for no real good reason. Probably just because truly brilliant writers like Auster or Lethem are left to play computer games at home while their dumb older jock brothers are out fooling around with all the cheerleaders. True, the dorky little brothers change the world, but what's a writer gotta do to get a little action around here.

But, I have to admit that I have carved out a little niche in the pop-fiction corridors in which I spend a percentage of my time devouring less than perfect prose. I'm not ashamed of it. Everyone deserves to read something that's pure entertainment, no messy exposition or thinking, just good old fashioned fun. We hate the guys who make $60 million to throw a ball into a basket, but we still go and watch and root for them because it's fun to watch.

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Downloads: 1
Written by: Anthony Chatfield
Available File Types:Text
Words: 700