My Inner Cranky

This is one of my kids — but he totally inherited that expression from me

I honestly don’t think I’ve ever, ever posted two things in one day (really, posting twice in three months has been more my style), but after I read and wrote about that so-so Albert Brooks book, I wanted to officially note that I’ve decided it’s totally okay to talk about books I’m not completely crazy about.  I used to not do that because I figured there were enough good books to write about that I could just not get into books I didn’t like.   Believe me, I know how hard it is to write a good book, being in the middle of revisions designed to make a pretty good book.  I admire anybody who gets through to the end.  Still, what’s wrong with saying a book doesn’t work for me?  People can disagree, after all.

Since  I’ve decided it’s fine to write about books that bug me as much as books I love, I’ve decided it’s also okay to sound as cranky about what bugs me as I actually feel.  Why not?  It’ll keep me from writing about shopping on Craigslist, which is what I do when I haven’t read anything worthwhile in some time.  Plus, you can only really write about Craigslist once, it not being an infinitely renewable subject.  Books, on the other hand, are.  A new one is being published, like, every second.  (Okay, maybe every day.  But often. Don’t make me look it up.)  The result of unleashing my inner cranky is that I’ll have a lot more books to write about.  I might even learn some things to avoid in my own work.


5 thoughts on “My Inner Cranky

  1. Busted. Back to having to look myself in the eye and say, “yes, that thing you wrote has to be changed, but no, you don’t suck.” Because if you just chant, “you suck, you suck, you suck” to yourself, nothing gets done. Obviously.

  2. ❤ the pic!!!

    I like a bitching post now and again. I write about "suck" on the daily…Lady Gaga, Elizabeth Gilbert, Glenn Beck rallies, water weight, cheaty ex-husbands, my roommate growing Kobachi in our fridge…It's vital.

    Now, go write. The world needs pleasure. xoxooxox

  3. Lol! You couldn’t write a mean-hearted review if you tried. I’m not scared of the inner cranky – I found your account of the book very fair and honest, and not at all the sort of slasher job you can come across. I’m catching up here, and just want to add that the picture is the lovely Kafka, I think. I never got any particular advice about following my dreams – too stoic and English a family for that sort of thing. In fact, it was probably helpful – otherwise I would have felt I had to achieve them to pay back the people who believed in me. It was lighter to run without that load, for me, at least. Although it would have been nice to get a bit of inspiration from time to time, too!

  4. Hi Tammy — writing about suck on the daily strikes me as a healthy pursuit. Good for you. xo

    You know, litlove, you make an excellent point about something that is endemic in American parenting: the notion that you can be great, without the accompanying message that you have to give stuff up and work hard to do the thing you love. That is the message of the large trophy given out for simply participating in a soccer game. And the frequency with which American children are praised. Honestly, I think when you’re praised too much you start to wonder if maybe people are just feeling sorry for you. My feeling is that the child who wishes to be a poet should also know that sure, they can do that, but they’d better also learn to go without a new ipod, and eating out, and having a large family, and buying a house in a fancy neighborhood.

    And YES indeed on the Kafka, you literary maven, you.

    As for Brooks, I agree. I have no interest in writing slasher pieces. I’d just like to have more to post about, and that means I’m going to have to start posting about books I didn’t care for. A more or less relentlessly cheery woman, I was recently delighted and also empowered to be told by a friend (a British friend, in fact), that I could just stop! Please. A little less cheeriness would not be taken amiss. And you know what? I agree. Kindness, good manners, generosity — all good. Forced cheeriness not so much.

    Welcome back! I’m going over to see what you’ve been up to now, in fact. xoxo

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