3 Things: A Flash Fiction story, the Picoult-Weiner HuffPo Interview, and dick lit.

26 08 2010

Three things have sprung up over the day and I had time at the gym to toss them around in my head.

First, I wrote a 1,200 word flash fiction story last week, cleaned it up this morning thinking I’d post it tomorrow and instead of being able to get it back under the “prescribed” 1,000 word mark, I added a 100 words to it. Bleh. So, maybe it’ll turn into a short story. We’ll see. Probably won’t put it up tomorrow, regardless.

Secondly, though I said I was already bored with the story, I read with eagerness Jason Pinter’s interview with Jodi Picoult and Jennifer Weiner this morning. I’ve got to say, Picoult really does seem pretty sane to me. I don’t agree with her opinion, but she seems less “aggressive” and less nutty. It might be because just about anyone standing in the same virtual space as Weiner seems well-grounded, but I’m digging her vibe. On the other hand, I don’t understand where Weiner’s coming from and her arguments are all over the place. She’s occasionally witty, but witty in a stark-raving mad sort of way. I just don’t get what she’s after, but if she wants to dry her tears in her royalty checks (the snark just doesn’t do it for me), that’s cool, I guess. Seems like her mode though is to throw as much shit at the wall as she can and see what sticks. Mostly, seems like she’s just attention-hungry. Would’ve never suspected that from a writer.

Third, I’ve heard the term “dick lit” three times as the male analog to “chick lit.” It’s cute and though some people have a bone to pick with anyone writing “chick lit” (and I use the scare quotes intentionally. I can’t really define what’s “chick lit” or not. At least not succinctly or with any real accuracy. For that matter, I can’t define pornography real well either, but I know it when I see it.) Does anyone truly write “dick lit,” though? I can’t imagine a dude thinking that to himself while writing. I’m gonna write me a novel just for other dudes. Yeah, that just feels weird. I wonder if the sogenannte “chick lit” authors think that way when they write theirs. Maybe I’ve just missed the memo on it, I’m willing to admit.