This week we found three orphaned kittens in our garage. They were cold, but alive and in very bad shape. None the less, we picked them up, washed them and warmed them up and fed them from tiny little bottles to try to keep them alive, but they didn't make it. It was all very sad.
One day this week I got a call from my friend, Krista, that
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Then, of course, the author said, "I'm not calling you a peasant". Well, fuck you, I like peasants. They worked for a living, unlike the upper literary class you represent.
Additionally, the reason why the New York Times Book Review reviews literary fiction is because it is a review of literary fiction. Maybe fifty years ago that wasn't the case. But in this time and place, the only people who give a damn what NYTBR says are people who read literary fiction. After decades of being ignored by those sorts of people, those of us who actually read genre fiction simply created our own avenues of support in the form of newsletters, fanzines, conventions and nowadays Internet fora, fanfic sites, etc.. The NYTBR - like everything about the NYT - is an anachronism sliding into obscurity, read only an an increasing old, increasingly out-of-touch audience.
The truth is that - if you actually read genre fiction - it is readily apparent that genre fiction is stronger now than it's ever been. Comics, fantasy and sci-fi have busted out into public consciousness in a big way - and having done it without the academy's stamp of approval, quite frankly I don't care if they continue to ignore us . . . as the world continues to ignore them.
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