www.andrewmackay.net:

Every once in a while, I try to get some exposure to literary fiction. It usually goes like this: “Well Self, I’d like to be a successful writer, so I need to read successful writers. I should find some stuff that’s not sci-fi/fantasy and read it to see what’s popular in the mainstream.” This is usually followed by a google search for the best novels of the 20th century or something like that.

I’ll end up trying to read All the Kings Men, or The Grapes of Wrath, or Beloved. And I’ll get somewhere between a handful of pages and halfway through before I just cannot drive myself to pick up the book any longer. Especially not if something fantastic is sitting beside it, waiting to be read. Oftentimes, I’d rather read bad science fiction than good literary fiction.

I always end up asking myself, what’s so great about literary fiction? I guess I hope it’s just a matter of taste. I hope it’s just a matter of some people genuinely preferring a story about the ordinary. I hope…

I hope I haven’t precluded myself from ever being taken seriously in the realm of literature by saying this. Oh well… give me the fantastic or give me death! Not really. Just give me something fun to read.

(And a side note: I realized after a few of these adventures that being listed as one of the best novels of the 20th century doesn’t have much (if anything at all) to do with being successful. Most of these novels were outsold greatly by the average Nicholas Sparks/James Patterson/Steven King/John Grisham release. So, maybe what I need to be reading is not what is best but what sells best to get an idea of what is currently successful. It’s kind of like the academy awards: there’s a massive disconnect between what critics adore and what people buy.)