As one reads contemporary novelists, one can't shake the feeling that they write for one another rather than for some more or less common reader. Their prose shares a showiness that speaks of solidarity and competition--the exaggerated panache with which teenaged boys shoot hoops in their driveways while pretending they don't notice their neighbor watching from across the street.
Dale Peck, Hatchet Jobs, 2004
Dale Peck, Hatchet Jobs, 2004
John D. McDonald said something similar 30- some years ago. He had a name for it; he called it, "Author Intrusion". Basically "Oh, mama, look how nice I'm writing!" I've encountered some that were so awful they forcibly grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and shoved me clear out of the story, essay, or whatever. Usually I don't bother to try to get back in... too many GOOD books out there waiting for me!
ReplyDeleteInteresting. Thanks.
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