URSULA, HEMINGWAY AND ME? FANTASTICAL.

Here we go. It's been awhile, but little to report. I seem to be stuck at 30 stories. I've been working on a story Weighty for some time now. Stuck. Probably because I ventured into unfamiliar territory. I'm a realist. Can't do much but stay there. I know. I know. Realism is a figment of anyone's imagination. One person's reality is another person's fantasy....and so forth and so on and such and such. Yeah!

Ursula

Recently was viewing a documentary on Ursula K. Le Guin. I was enjoying it until her hatred for Hemingway peeked through. She sneered at him as if it were his personal fault that most readers enjoyed his work so much that her own stuff did not make the cut for many years. I have had my years reading science fiction. Was a member of the Science Fiction Book of the Month Club as a youth in the Navy. Had books shipped to me at several duty stations. Nowadays, fantasy and science fiction demand large audiences. If you ask me, reality is taking quite a beating. Pushed to the side. Maybe? Maybe not?

THE SILENT BOOMER AND FRIENDS

I used to think that for one to write well he (or she) must know himself extremely well, but then along comes Hemingway and other writers like him who was so lost he offed himself.

Ernie Shades McKnight

Maybe those who are busy knowing themselves well are the most romantic and self-observing types. They write one sort of literature and those who pay close attention to others write another type of literature which, of course, would be more objective and realistic. 

Geraldine

As the seasons turn, one type of writing rises to the top and next season the other sort of writing becomes popular again. Roughly you can see a progression like that from the Enlightenment to the Romantic and Transcendental Movement, followed by the Victorian Period which was followed by Realism and Naturalism. They in turn were edged out by the Existential writers who were followed by the Beats who were, if you ask me, romantics in their own way. Supposedly, we are now in the Post-Modern Era (since 1965), a cooler and more cerebral literature. I'm beginning not to care so much anymore if I understand anything about GREAT literature. The distinctions slip away and all one seems to care about is selling something, to stop suffering romantically and make a few dollars. Never mind if one's creations are literature or not.

Meet a couple of my friends who I think I know almost as well as I know myself.