(Or, as one of my spiritual mentors would have it, “niche-niche…”)
I am an eclectic writer. Please do me and yourself a flavor and look around. I write about so many different things, often in so many different ways — sometimes within the same piece.
Nobody likes to laugh. In these days when the world is in turmoil, wars are all around us, people are dying in the street, nearly everyone you know, including the person you look at in the mirror every day (and all the one’s who don’t know the difference between that and the word “everyday”) are depressed, who wants to laugh or, crap, even see anyone laughing? Think of anyone laughing? Who needs humor? Especially if it goes right over your head? Or between your legs? Or under your toes?
Some of you hate poetry. Sister, do I get that. You would not believe how many poets hate poetry. Read Ben Lerner (The Hatred of Poetry) a MacArthur “genius” on the subject. You certainly do not need me, a relative imbecile, to discuss it.
Who in their right mind likes philosophy? Need I go any further?
Some of you don’t like politics. I understand. It’s disgusting. But it is the dirty mechanics of the world. So, if anyone wants to avoid it, it’s kind of like wanting to walk out of the room while the plumber fixes your toilet. Nothing wrong with that.
Love? Nobody wants to read about love, right? Especially not from a guy’s POV? Especially not, like, on MEDIUM! I can hear Jerry Lewis yelling, right now… “Laaadeees…”
I also write quite a bit of fiction (although you’d be hard-pressed to find it here). Most fiction writers tell you to read tons of fiction when you write fiction. It’s a good lesson. If you want to copy what other people are writing when they write erotic romance novels. So, I read lots of non-fiction. Read all the fiction I need long, long ago in a City far away.
That’s all. You can go back to whatever, now. Thanks. Have a good one.
And thanks for being my… No, that’s what they call it someplace else, isn’t it?