We have very nearly succeeded in turning reading–that most active of cultural activities–into a passive extension of mass media.
Alex Irvine takes a quick swing at the kind of literature produced when about half of potential writers don’t read for pleasure.
I actually wanted to quote the whole second paragraph, but since the post was only two paragraphs long, that seemed excessive.
(I’ll be buying Irvine’s next book for sure. I was quite pleased with some of his earlier novels and stories. Plus I know he’s the kind of guy who made homemade pyrobombs as a kid–something we bonded about during a chat at a convention one time–and you know that’s the sign of a good novelist.)
