the literati blog

Today is, first and foremost,

ALL-SAINTS DAY

but wouldn't you know that,

in some preditor's war room, somewhere,

somewhen, there came a day when

they had the most brilliant idea...

(It must have been a pub-leecher's idea -

but we digress here...)

And that idea was to make that

holiest -on a human level- of days

coincide with...

A SPECIAL DAY IN HONOR

OF THEIR PUBLISHED

(or, quite simply, pet)

AUTHORS!

AND SO WAS BORN

NATIONAL

AUTHORS' DAY!

Yay...!

Of course, every author who has ever...

well, authored... has got the sacrosanct right

to be read... at the very least!

(And that is when they are either critiqued

-mercilessly-

or appraised, lauded, elevated,

praised and even revered

- becoming like unto gods of literature, for some.

Now this latter bunch is often thought of as

the sheepish readership - but let us not

get into that sordid aspect right now.

Suffice it to overstate: there are writers

and there are readers - both need to be.

It is like in many other artistic ventures, though:

one man's (or woman's) treasure is another's

garbage... or vice-versa!

The exact same line

-dialogue or descriptive narrative-

can be dissected both ways, in a positive light

or a less-than-tolerant manner;

depending on a myriad things!

And those things range from

the critic's mood to the zeitgeist of the day

(the spirit of the times - yes... sigh)

to the pub-leecher's pocketbook...

And yet... And yet...

Anyone who commits to unveil

but an iota of his or her innermost self

in writ - for the world to peruse...

at any time, in any place...

be it in a tell-all, a blog, a blurb,

or a time-honored piece of fiction...

electronically or traditionally -

deserves to be given a shot.

He or she deserves to be considered, also,

*an author*

YES!

Whether that still goes for those that

simply give free reign to their folly -

"committing to paper"

(e-books are coming)

(coming on HARD!)

every little crazy idea they've ever had

(every HUGE maddening thought

that has ever crossed their mind, TOO!)

and passing that off as ART...?

Whether that still goes for those

swindlers and filibusters

that plunder the classics of yesteryear

as they do myths and lore

for their premises, ideas and concepts

that are then bastardized, sullied and

run through the modern mud...?!?

And whether that still goes for

the frauds, the hacks, the skanks that

permeate the upper echelons

EVERYWHERE in this world...???

Well... What do you think?

... rrrrright.

"Magic"... huh?

You mean like... Harry The Potter?

Lestat (abandoned by Anne Rice - by God's Grace!)

Or any number of delusional scribblings

from this crazy Brit here:

A master scrawler, rarely matched in sheer productivity -

his rehashing (and retooling) of several myths and legends

have captured many minions' imaginations...

Poor sad souls - devoid of their own

power to imagine - and see the unseen!

So much so that they have got to rely

on a scavenger of make-believe

that further blurs the line between

myth and actual fantastic legend...

Vivement Le Brex-Lit...!

The GaiMan's fellow Brit (a tragic Brit we ache for; her, not him!)

actually exposed him decades before his birth!

For if we truly are to judge his life, mind and SOUL

from the blasphemous, heretic, outright satanic material he has produced

over a number of years now, first in comic-bookies then in sad excuses

for modern literature - there can be little doubt here.

Tolstoy was another kind soul that tended to

idealize and edify the collective contribution

of all quills and fountain pens that ever were...

What a wealth of wisdom

and kindness is expressively scattered

in the books of all peoples and times

- (L.N. Tolstoy)

Now, Alice -at least- is far more honest

about the whole operation...!

Charles... was brutally honest, too.

Up to a point:

he admits madness

but then succumbs to the vanity of it all

by pretending to hold some form of

exclusivity... on the soul world.

And Max... aw, Max...

He showers himself and his craft

with the greatest attributes of all:

value, worthiness, nobility - HOLINESS!

All the while shunning but one thing -

earthly, ephemeral glitz, in essence!

Yet that is what he basks in the most!!!

Lucado... is no Luminoso.

We would rather turn to an Henry Miller, instead:

at least, with him, it is strictly about

the writing experience -

everyday life, the struggle,

the pain, frustration and sheer agony

that comes with this vocation - and it all

culminated with this right here:

a borderline blasphemous wordsmith version

of the ten commandments - with eleven of them!

And we all routinely bypass the very first one...

About that eleventh one:

it boggles the mind Henry restrained himself

and did not add all those other activities

he routinely indulged in, in excess:

you know what we're thinking of here...

His wife June. Booze. Anais Nin. More booze.

Smokes. And even more booze!

He had provisioned for it with number 7,

of course - making this indeed ten,

not eleven commandments at all!

And all the more blasphemous!

Very well then, Barbara:

let us catch another glimpse

-a mere infinitesimal glimpse-

of what that humanity is up to,

in writ and in real, these days...

There it is, folks:

pretty much (but not pretty at all)

the entire bodacious body of work

of the self-proclaimed literati "K-FLEX" here;

she who did not hesitate to call these titles

"classic books" that "all should get"

on this auspicious day,

National Authors' Day!

NAD... I say!

Another author who followed the age-old wisdom

that dictates that each author should stick to

one simple thing: "write what he knows"...

Crusoe Dachshund is, at least, a NY Times best-selling writer

- unlike Tariq Nasheed there...

CD's success could be attributed to a variety

of factors, though - none having any true literary merit.

Vanda Denton

is an author, true-and-true;

and here she exemplifies perfectly well

what a solitary journey, through and through,

(even after publication...) the writer's life

can and surely is meant to be...

Others - such as David Walliams, represented here

by an assortment of his odd-looking characters -

will benefit from exposure, support,

extraordinary back-up coming from

not only pub-leechers but their cronies also -

the pub-peddlers and other swindlers

(can be Coles, might be Barnes & Noble too;

Chapters... Powell's of Portlandia... Strand...

Libreria Acqua Alta di Venice... etc!)

and, emboldened by this unwavering support,

they will, quite simply...

saturate the market.

Great going, scribes -

pretending to give encouragement

after that to all the neophyte

and fledgling wordsmiths

that are coming out of the woodwork

will only seem like...

patronizing hypocrisy

- perhaps condescending too!

No one - absolutely NO ONE - will ever be as sincere

kind and genuine as RAY:

you are sorely missed, Mr. Bradbury!

You truly cared for your readers, the world at large

and the eventual few that would follow in your footsteps.

Science-fiction writers tend to be like that:

they write material that warns about impending doom,

foretelling of humanity's many mistakes,

trying to prevent them - after all, it's a public service.

They didn't listen much to H.G. Wells and Jules Verne,

but more and more are heeding the words of Ray Bradbury.

*Everybody loves Ray*

We all hope so, Diane...

For the occasion (need we remind you:

it's NATIONAL AUTHORS' DAY - duh!)

Westminster Abbey shared, via their Twitter,

this shot of the memorial

they dedicated to Mary Ann;

not Gilligan's Mary Ann but *the* Mary Ann

EVANS a.k.a. "George Eliot"

she who took the name of a man

in order to author what is considered

by some, as the finest literature

in the 19th Century...

And she did so in a time when it was

truly necessary to do so;

unlike JKR and her "Robert Whatsisname"

that were, basically, but a vanity project...

again.

Think that's mean?

Think again! And again and again!

THIS is mean:

excerpt from Creative Mischief by Dave Trott

Somebody on Twitter found nothing better

than THAT (above) to share

on this "Authors' Day"... hurray, eh?

Meanwhile, noted pub-leechers

seized the opportunity

(much like "K-FLEX" earlier...)

to blow their own horn

and flaunt their stable

of under-contract scribes...

One example:

HAYMARKET BOOKS.

Wow - only 3 guys... and six women!

Seventh is up for debate...

But anyway!

WOW!

How is that for turning the table on the male-dominated

age-old tendencies... HUH?

The publishing house's name, however,

still makes us think of THIS:

Nice - but not quite prestigious, hmm?

Condé Nast Traveler

palliates to that, no worry:

it suggested that every single

bookworm, book lover

and author groupie

follow their passion to the extreme -

no, not by stalking the author

but rather by visiting

several luxurious libraries

all over the world...!

I don't know, folks...

None of those places will ever match

the power of true imagination;

luminous imagination!

No book ever published, already there

collecting dust in those shelves

will ever satiate your thirst, in truth...

It is not that I advise against reading

or condone any anti-book rhetoric - no!

The best way to sell you on this

is by showing you an example of it:

unbound but luminous imagination,

the kind that does not pervert ideals or ideas.

The type of thing that inspired

this artwork, by Yerka:

imagining a luminous place

the ultimate public library...

And yes, of course -

even the worst of books

will open up worlds of wonder

for its readers...

The only question left to ponder then

is whether any of those worlds,

portals, doorways, dimensions

were truly worth exploring

in the first place...?

And what have you neglected

in the real world

while indulging away

in the one some wordsmith

you do not even know

fabricated for his or her own

profit... glory... vain aspirations?

Hmm?

Labels: 20/20, disambiguation is everything, Gaiman, lambasting spin-off, luminous, No More Rrrrrrrowling, simulpost

And Bookee! But ''E'' came first, waaaaaaay first; and since it is a lady that we are writing about here, primarily, all the more reason to have ''E'' coming first here, as well...!

EDITH HAMILTON

was born in 1867 and it wouldn't be until the time
when she turned a quite venerable sixty-three years of age
that she finally saw her life's work PUBLISHED.

And, nowadays, that life's work is readily available

ENTIRELY FOR FREE
fifty years after her death
on this wondrous world wide web of ours
courtesy of a non-profit website called

GetBookee.org

(well... sort of!)

Check out the previews below...

But, first, read on!

The one book in particular,

from that remarkable life's body of work,

that this luminous blogger affectionates

above all

would have to be this one

right here: