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Found this for AuthorScoop this morning, but thought it would take off well here, too.
Fantasy author, Daniel Abraham, is one funny dude. He's written a letter from Genre to its estranged companion, Literary. Enjoy! (And really, you gotta read the whole thing.)
http://www.sfsignal.com/archives/20...hams-private-letter-from-genre-to-literature/
Fantasy author, Daniel Abraham, is one funny dude. He's written a letter from Genre to its estranged companion, Literary. Enjoy! (And really, you gotta read the whole thing.)
http://www.sfsignal.com/archives/20...hams-private-letter-from-genre-to-literature/
Please, please, darling let us stop this. This artificial separation between us is painful, it is undignified, and it fools no one. In company, we sneer at each other and make those cold, cutting remarks. And why? You laugh at me for telling the same stories again and again. I call you boring and joyless. <snip>
But allow me this, dear: what you do is crueler. You take the best of me, my most glorious moments - Ursula LeGuin and Dashiell Hammet, Mary Shelly and Philip Dick - and you claim them for your own. You say that they "transcend genre". There are no more heartless words than those. You disarm me. You know, I think, that if we were to compare our projects honestly -- my best to yours, my mediocrities to yours, our failures lumped together -- this division between us would vanish, and so you skim away my cream and mock me for being only milk. <snip>
I read through the collections of your most honored short stories, and what do I see? Fantasy, mystery, ghost stories, romance. How often you refresh yourself at my springs. I wonder whether your contempt might hide something deeper. Fear perhaps...