I have finished ‘Still’ by bp nichol. I really didn’t enjoy it and don’t recommend it. Interestingly, none of its faults stem (as far as I can tell) from the fact that it was written in 3 days. No, it is the fact that there are these descriptive interpassages of 2 to 3 pages that do absolutely nothing but describe the house, in painstaking detail, that grate. Then, there is the conceit of having only two characters, unnamed and never described in terms of gender, conversing about the state of their relationship for the remaining interchapters. I suppose on some level I cannot honestly say I finished reading the book, as I was skimming through the descriptions of the house and its grounds solely for some clue as to why they were included. None was found; a disappointment, especially as I have extremely limited time to devote to fiction.
Next up - “Larry’s Party” by Carol Shields. I read “The Stone Diaries” about 12 years ago and loved it.
Non-fiction - I’ve re-located my copy of “Getting Things Done” by David Allen, so I’m finishing that. (Yes, there is a delicious irony to not finishing an organizational self-help book called “Getting Things Done” because of losing track of it in the chaos of our home.) It’s a tough slog because I just don’t speak Modern Business English.
Why is it that I just can’t get enough of this sort of thing -
but sentences like this -
make me want to slap the writer with “The Practical Stylist”? At any rate, I’d better become capable of getting some f@cking amazing sh#t done to have made it worth wallowing through sentences like that!