Suffering bad writing and patently predictable stories is something I don’t do well. Now, I admit, what is bad writing and “same ol’ story” to me might be something that others find laudable. I also admit that I don’t read everything that’s published, not by half (not even a quarter of it), so I can’t really tell when something is, in fact, another clone of someone else’s latest rage. I’m too busy writing my own stories to read most of what is released these days, except for those authors I already know and love. This isn’t because I’m lazy. It’s because I’m writing. Only when I stop writing, for whatever reason, do I then commit myself to devouring a book a day. Lately, though, I’ve been critiquing works for others. Two exceptionally talented authors are my major focus, but, occasionally, I’ll look at what’s in need of a read and review in more open waters. And what do I find? My eyes rolling.

First we have the persistent “I” narrative. If the story needs the “I” POV, I’m all for it, but, mostly, it’s just sadly rendered, poorly masked author angst and auto-biographical fantasizing. Next comes the too obvious podium/pulpit pounding. Then there’s the “I love elves,” the “I love guns and heroes/heroines” and the “I wanna be loved” lot. Predictably, all these grand and glorious tales are laden with telling me their story instead of showing me by making me live it. Predictably, the leading characters are the usual archetypes and phenotypes (skinny and weedy; lithe and lissome; overly buxom; ripped and shredded…as in body builder — you get the picture). Predictably, the narratives are saturated with really sucky writing, filled to the rim with badly constructed sentences, misplaced modifiers, and adverbial flatulence. (And, by the way, I’m not one of those “kill all adverbs” readers. Adverbs are effective when judiciously placed and properly used.) But.

The word that most arises when I start scanning the critique slush is: insipid, sadly insipid. Oddly, most children’s story authors do not qualify for my despair. I’m finding, more and more, that children’s authors know their stuff, even if the stories aren’t quite my cup of recreational tea. The rest? Well, maybe one offering a month is worth my efforts to read and offer up opinion. Otherwise, I just silently bow out. No sense puncturing anyone’s balloon, especially since so many others can and do blithely offer the writer sodden, even artfully succulent praise for work I consider just litter.

Recently:

• They Work Very Hard
• Treading the Dangers of Fiction
• Infighting About Grammar & Punctuation
• Scary Writers
• New Novel, Chapter Two
• To the Book Store
• New Novel Amid Chaos
• Raw Gore, Explicit Cruelty, Debased Sex in Novels
• Back from Summer Hiatus
• Self-Publishing IS Better