When I set out to write a book about the natural history of breasts, I knew I'd have to answer some awkward questions about my book topic. At a...
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A sixty-plus protagonist is most decidedly against the norm. I am not one to propagate the standard telling format, but there is a reason that the elderly rarely carry the storyline. The natural decay of the brain, sans mental illness, is debilitating enough. For all the soul searching and temporal grasping, what does it matter? Even if Dr. Jennifer White murdered Amanda, she's going to do a twenty bit or life in jail or an asylum. Like it or not, the hoary are introspective to the nth degree and their imaginings are basically exaggerated mind shifts. Mental illness? Not so much.
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A pristine acreage, many acreages has been forced upon its very nature, its verity, a project authored by a vain, nonsensical and seemingly absent-minded and paradoxically minutiae driven writer, Annie Proulx. It is a wind wasted assemblage of paper fathered by the forests that ring our odd writer out. Thoreau was unable to do it and here is a point of reference:
From my: "The Rogue Henry David Thoreau
Excerpt: What sort of evil madman goes to the American woods and builds himself an English cabin that is made out in plaster and shingles? It goes against the very grain (pun intended) of the all-American, throw-it-up, log cabin which is entirely more conducive to the sounds and smells of nature pouring through its ill-fitted logs. How quaint this English cabin, wrong on so many levels. Perhaps our man Thoreau was an English spy, plotting to overthrow the Stars and Bars with his army of muskrats, turtles and butterflies.
Thoreau eventually got it, Annie Proulx didn't and still doesn't. A failed project is destined to fail again unless you admit it, woman-up. You'll always have "The Shipping News" right?
"The Two Kinds of Decay:" Humanity and Humility. Or the memoir as a sledge hammer, used as a device to make it a sub-literary artifice. The author is indeed on a mission and it doesn't involve the reader. This is desk drawer writing and best kept there under double lock and key. But ego is a killer, it overrides logic and we are left with the mess.
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Chris Roberts has commented on (3) products.
Turn of Mind by Alice LaPlante
Chris Roberts, July 16, 2011
A sixty-plus protagonist is most decidedly against the norm. I am not one to propagate the standard telling format, but there is a reason that the elderly rarely carry the storyline. The natural decay of the brain, sans mental illness, is debilitating enough. For all the soul searching and temporal grasping, what does it matter? Even if Dr. Jennifer White murdered Amanda, she's going to do a twenty bit or life in jail or an asylum. Like it or not, the hoary are introspective to the nth degree and their imaginings are basically exaggerated mind shifts. Mental illness? Not so much.(1 of 5 readers found this comment helpful)
Bird Cloud: A Memoir by Annie Proulx
Chris Roberts, June 1, 2011
A House is Not a House, Not a HomeA pristine acreage, many acreages has been forced upon its very nature, its verity, a project authored by a vain, nonsensical and seemingly absent-minded and paradoxically minutiae driven writer, Annie Proulx. It is a wind wasted assemblage of paper fathered by the forests that ring our odd writer out. Thoreau was unable to do it and here is a point of reference:
From my: "The Rogue Henry David Thoreau
Excerpt: What sort of evil madman goes to the American woods and builds himself an English cabin that is made out in plaster and shingles? It goes against the very grain (pun intended) of the all-American, throw-it-up, log cabin which is entirely more conducive to the sounds and smells of nature pouring through its ill-fitted logs. How quaint this English cabin, wrong on so many levels. Perhaps our man Thoreau was an English spy, plotting to overthrow the Stars and Bars with his army of muskrats, turtles and butterflies.
Thoreau eventually got it, Annie Proulx didn't and still doesn't. A failed project is destined to fail again unless you admit it, woman-up. You'll always have "The Shipping News" right?
The Two Kinds of Decay: A Memoir by Sarah Manguso
Chris Roberts, March 2, 2011
"The Two Kinds of Decay:" Humanity and Humility. Or the memoir as a sledge hammer, used as a device to make it a sub-literary artifice. The author is indeed on a mission and it doesn't involve the reader. This is desk drawer writing and best kept there under double lock and key. But ego is a killer, it overrides logic and we are left with the mess.