… I haven’t heard of any of these. That’s the New York Times’ list of the best books of 2009. And to reiterate, I didn’t say I haven’t read them. I said I haven’t heard of them. Any of them. And I’m hoping to become a published writer one day. They haven’ t been on Amazon anywhere where I can find them (including the Kindle bestseller list that I regularly stalk) or the front page (which admittedly for me is a lot more likely to have the latest Kim Harrison or Jim Butcher), or even the New York Times book review email, which I read about half the time. Where do you find these books?

Three of them at least look interesting to me and my tastes.

You know, I like artsy plays. I can go and two hours later come out, maybe a little more somber, but feeling enlightened. Laramie Project, Doubt, Wit… I LOVE these. But books are such an investment of my time… if I’m going to “educate” myself, I guess I’d rather read Edith Wharton or Charles Dickens or D. H. Lawrence, or, heck, finally finish Ulysses (I’m like 2 chapters from the end… gonna… make it… one day….).

At least from what I’ve read (and, granted, I need to read more modern literary novels, so I will admit that this is an uneducated standpoint given from a small sample), to be literary the writing can have very little joy (’cause quality can’t be tainted by happy?) and has to be very much what I would call “masculine”: spare, emotionally distanced, grisly details that you see as if watching on camera, with these characters who are so flawed and/or twisted that I can’t figure out if I’m supposed to root for them or condemn them. And frequently it feels to me like the story takes second place to the prose itself, and I don’t understand why. I mean, pretty writing is nice, but I think substance is every bit as important as shell.  I’d rather have friends who are caring and joyful who help me be a better me than friends who know how to dress and get their makeup right every time. (Not that there’s anything wrong with well dressed and getting your makeup right every time. My sister is an absolutely fabulous example of substance meets style – on a budget, even. She amazes and shames me.)

I have this feeling that if I tried hard enough, I would change and understand what the literati have been trying to tell me for years. I also have this feeling that if I read more modern literature it would probably help my writing. So I should read more literature. Maybe I should grab those three books that sounded interesting and give ‘em a go. Maybe I will.

But I have 84 books on my Kindle that I haven’t read yet, ranging from Sun Tzu to Nalini Singh, and I can’t quite figure out when I became uneducated because I’d rather finish my Jane Austen collection than read a book about a “turbulent life — marred by alcoholism, financial turmoil and family discord” or prose that has “quiet restraint and calm precision” (quotes from NYT reviews on the link above).

Am I doomed? Anybody got a painless way to break into the world of modern literature for someone who prefers F. Scott Fitzgerald to Hemingway and spends her time bouncing back and forth between Victorian literature and Kresley Cole?

Have you seen this one yet? Apparently hugging is bad for your soul. Well… I’m gonna go with ripping off hip-hop in some disastrous way while using slang that you obviously don’t know what it means is bad for humanity.

And, while less wtf, still not sure I want my medical employees thinking like this (although at least they have talent).

Not a movie, but an Amazon review. Either this Amazon book review for Going Rogue (no, there’s no link; if you want the book, you can find it pretty easily on your own) is a clever piece of satire or… please, Powers That Be, let this be satire.

Ain’t afraid of no Vietcong king, November 17, 2009

By Gen. JC Christian, patriot (Tremonton, UT United States)

There are many kinds of truth. There are truths based on facts, truths based on faith, and truths based on something that sounds as if it should be true (truthiness). Then there’s the kind of truth we find in Sarah’s book: stories and concepts that become truths simply because she states them. She’s a lot like our Lord and Savior, Glen Beck, in that respect.

Sometimes, she states truths that would be considered ludicrous if uttered by someone else. Her claim that the McCain campaign forced her to spend $150,000 in RNC funds to dress her family in designer clothes is one example of that. Although it might be easier to believe that she acted like a trailer park Zsa Zsa who’d found a credit card left behind at a possum feed, she blames McCain staffers. That’s good enough for us, because we have faith; we want to believe her truths.

But the book isn’t perfect. As much as I enjoyed the few short paragraphs in which Mrs Palin laid out her policy objectives, she could have condensed it all into one sentence: “I’m going to grab an Oxo Good Grips Stainless Serving Spatula and go all mavericky on your non-white, non-Christian and non-heterosexual butts.”

The book also fails to expose Mrs. Palin’s intellectual brilliance and keen grasp of foreign policy issues. Why wasn’t the text of her recent speech in Hong Kong included? Although it remains secret, it’s rumored that she viciously rebuked the Vietcong king for his assault on the Empire State Building. That’s a speech we’ve been waiting for nearly 75 years to hear. It’s big news and should have been included.

As you read other reviews of this book, please remember that Mrs. Palin has many enemies who are eager to pan her work. The Palin family’s most potent nemesis, Levi’s johnston, is no dpubt fully erect and ready to spew globs of misfortune upon them for a third time. And reason-adoring intellectuals are certain to point out that an interview on Good Morning Topeka doesn’t qualify as a policy summit in the Far East.

But a few bad reviews won’t stop her. She’s seen much worse from her kitchen window. It can’t be pleasant to gaze upon Antichristograd every morning as you brew your coffee.

My review isn’t complete, but I think I’ll quit anyway, because writing reviews, like governing, is just too darned hard to finish.

You see satire, right? Reading it again, I’m going with definitely satire. The fact that he gave her 5 stars just through me off at first. So satire, of course, means, really, you SHOULD have.

And… since I can’t have an entire post of madness, here’s…

One more reason to adore Nathan Fillion