(with great affection for English teachers, since my mom taught high school English and English/Literature classes were always my favorites in school)
Anybody remember dissecting all those poems, short stories, plays and novels in high school and college Literature classes? I loved those classes so much. I was always really good at bullshitting my way through all that when I didn’t understand what all the symbolism was supposed to mean. Which I often didn’t. My brain just isn’t wired that way, I guess. I’m pretty straightforward. If I ask a question, I don’t have any hidden agenda, I actually want to know the answer. So it confuses me if people answer one way when what they mean is actually the opposite. I hate that.
Lately, I’ve begun to realize that this is the reason I will never write a Great Work of Literature. Okay, well, one reason. I guess there are others. Like the fact that I write romance and not many people consider romance to be Great Literature, but that’s a whole other blog *g* In all seriousness, though, it does seem as though a work of Literature has to have multiple layers of meaning (among other things) to be considered Great. Deliberately adding in symbolism and layers of meaning isn’t really one of my best things, nor is it something I’m particularly interested in trying. I actually prefer a more straightforward story. Maybe this is why I’ve always loved adventure tales.
I’m fine sticking with genre novels. Gay romance has been good to me. I don’t need to write any Great Literature. I’m happy enough reading it :)
Written by Ally Blue
Ally is a rich and famous author of hot gay manlove. She travels the world in her private jet, being waited on hand and foot by her team of pretty young men who bring her umbrella drinks and make out for her pleasure . . . Okay, so that's her dream life. Her novels of Manlove & Angst are mostly written in her living room, in between working at the Evil Day Job and doing Mom Stuff. Oh, the glamorous life of an author!
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