{"id":235,"date":"2009-09-21T13:21:03","date_gmt":"2009-09-21T19:21:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/zimmerscope.com\/Verbisaurus\/?p=235"},"modified":"2009-09-21T13:30:09","modified_gmt":"2009-09-21T19:30:09","slug":"my-novel-experiment","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/zimmerscope.com\/Verbisaurus\/2009\/09\/my-novel-experiment\/","title":{"rendered":"My Novel Experiment"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

As the 1990s began, I realized I was reading LOTS of books. I was probably averaging about one book a week. But I noticed something: I was only reading non-fiction. In fact, the only fiction I had read up to that time (excluding children\u2019s book, such as Dr. Seuss) were the novels that had been read to me in class, such as Charlotte\u2019s Web<\/em> and The Secret of NIMH<\/em>. Well-meaning friends and relatives, mistakenly assuming I liked fiction, purchased novels for me, and they sat on my shelves for years\u2026until I finally dumped them off at the Goodwill. In fact, of the 50 or so novels that people bought for me when I was a kid, the only one I ever took it upon myself to read was Stuart Little<\/em>. Authored by the same man who wrote Charlotte\u2019s Web<\/em>, I figured it must be good.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So, in 1990, I decided that if I was to consider myself literate, I would need to start incorporating fiction into my reading diet. I set up a plan wherein I would read one novel every month beginning in September 1990. I wanted to make sure I read modern classics \u2013 works of fiction that had become timeless treasures in our libraries. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I pretty much had no idea where to begin. I looked at a list of \u201cgreat\u201d books that I found posted on a library wall. I hadn\u2019t heard of any of them, so I wondered how great they truly were. Then, in a flash of brilliance, I decided to cull from that rocking list of historical events from the past half century: Billy Joel\u2019s \u201cWe Didn\u2019t Start the Fire.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019m sure you recall that insightful line where Joel poetically intones: \u201cRosenburgs H-bomb Sugar Ray Panmunjon Brando the King and I<\/em> and the Catcher in the Rye<\/em>.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So, in early September 1990 \u2013 the same day I began 10th<\/sup> grade \u2013 I likewise began my journey into the world of great literature.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And I was underwhelmed. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s not, mind you, that I hated Catcher<\/em>, it\u2019s just that I didn\u2019t get what the big deal was. This is considered one of the best novels of our century? And it doesn\u2019t even have a plot? Huh? It\u2019s just some kid wandering around New York. Who cares?<\/em> I mean, I liked his frank honesty about everything \u2013 especially how he thought school was phony and nuns were hypocrites\u2026but couldn\u2019t the Salinger have wrapped those insights into a moving tale? Apparently not.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I hoped October would bring something better. For that month, I again turned to Billy Joel for a suggested read, and soon found myself forcing myself to read the dry, rambling, aimless, pointless, X-less (where \u201cX\u201d stands for any quality one may want in a story) waste of paper known as On the Road<\/em>. In debating with a fellow student about the merits of this novel, she offered this: \u201cAh, yes, but Kerouac can turn such a good phrase.\u201d Yes, I suppose he can. But far from simply turning a good phrase, I would\u2019ve liked to have seen him turn a good tale. (I suppose this is the opposite problem of the far more readable Dan Brown, who can spin a good yarn but has nary a memorable line in any of his works.)<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In November, I read Stranger in a Strange Land<\/em> (again at the suggestion of Joel) hoping that a Sci Fi tale would at least be palatable. Though I applaud its ability to contain a plot (that\u2019s 1 for 3!), the last third of the book was a mental wasteland.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

December equaled The Old Man and the Sea<\/em>, which easily would have been the crappies book I\u2019d ever read if not for my October experience (see above). A grumpy man with whom I had no concern, struggles to bring a decaying fish back to shore. Whoop-de-fucking-doo.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In January I read Of Mice and Men<\/em>. Not bad, but certainly not great. In February I read what is probably the greatest example of a botched good idea in the history of sci fi: Fahrenheit 451<\/em>. In March a read The Metamorphosis<\/em>, a\u00a0rambling and belaboring tale that seemed to have something to say, but never succeeded. When I saw it listed on the syllabus for one of my classes this fall, I nearly wanted to drop out of the class (and I ultimately did).<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In April, May and June, I read Flowers for Algernon<\/em>, Johnny Got His Gun<\/em> and 1984<\/em>, respectively. And my faith in humanity\u2019s ability to write a good a novel was restored. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Still, I was jaded. In the six years that followed, I read exactly one novel. Needless to say, I\u2019m a lot more picky now.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So long; I\u2019m gonna get back to this book on American History that I\u2019m reading.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0Bottom Line:<\/p>\n

The Catcher in the Rye: C<\/p>\n

On the Road: F<\/p>\n

Stranger in a Strange Land: D<\/p>\n

The Old Man and the Sea: F<\/p>\n

Of Mice and Men: C<\/p>\n

Fahrenheit 451: C<\/p>\n

The Metamorphosis: D<\/p>\n

Flowers for Algernon: A<\/p>\n

Johnny Got His Gun: A<\/p>\n

1984: A<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

As the 1990s began, I realized I was reading LOTS of books. I was probably averaging about one book a week. But I noticed something: I was only reading non-fiction. In fact, the only fiction I had read up to that time (excluding children\u2019s book, such as Dr. Seuss) were the novels that had been […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-235","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books-film-tv"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/zimmerscope.com\/Verbisaurus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/235","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/zimmerscope.com\/Verbisaurus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/zimmerscope.com\/Verbisaurus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zimmerscope.com\/Verbisaurus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zimmerscope.com\/Verbisaurus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=235"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/zimmerscope.com\/Verbisaurus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/235\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":237,"href":"https:\/\/zimmerscope.com\/Verbisaurus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/235\/revisions\/237"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/zimmerscope.com\/Verbisaurus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=235"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zimmerscope.com\/Verbisaurus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=235"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zimmerscope.com\/Verbisaurus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=235"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}