Posts Tagged ‘Raise up roof beams’

“New” Salinger Book

The Onion’s Response to Salinger Coming Out of Hiding

“So far, critics have examined three never-before-seen novels, eight novellas, and more than two dozen short stories—all of which appear to be Terminator fan fiction.” = My biggest fear for Salinger.



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Elizabeth Morris wrote to Nathan J. Robinson
at 9:19pm on March 26th, 2009
“Does the fact that Salinger became a recluse ever piss you off so much you wish he were dead so that they could publish all the stuff he wrote and didn’t publish posthumously?”

Nathan J. Robinson wrote to Elizabeth Morris
at 9:39am on March 27th, 2009

“He was always sort of a recluse, it’s just been way worse over the last thirty years. Unfortunately, I have wished a loving, loving death on him many times, just so I can read all of the reams of paper that are probably in that shack of an office where he sequestered himself and ruined so many marriages.”

Nathan of Raise Up Roof Beams, one of my favorite bands evahhh (named after Raise High the Roof Beams, Carpenters), agrees with me about this whole JD thing.

Anyway, signing up for classes, am one short, have no idea what to do.  My second poem is getting workshopped on Monday, this time it’s a love poem about Billie.  I’m starting to realize it’s all I write.  Oh well.  I just run myself to the end of this ridiculousness and start writing about….existentialism or some shit.

Also, next Tuesday I’m getting workshopped for fiction too.  Luckily, I should have a decent draft by then, one that won’t make me feel like death.  Also, next Tuesday Sue Miller will be here.  I can’t wait to ask her, “Do you ever get annoyed being asked questions about a book you wrote twenty years ago?”  Because we read the The Good Mother and that was published in ’86.  Also, at Emma’s Food For Life, the restaurant I work at in Selinsgrove, they’re having a community dinner Tuesday.  Emma got a grant from SU to have one of these every month for six months!  It’s free! She going to be talking about cooking local, economical, and sustainable food.  I love working there.  It really is a community.

Now, to organize everything for SU Review and eat something!
All my affections,
(3/5 days next semester I’ll have a 9 o’clock class. UGH)

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OKAY, so I should be doing anything else but this right now, but I got up early and had nightmares that included my sixth grade teacher driving illegally, Tom Kiczula getting pulled over on a motorcycle in the middle of the Turkey Hill intersection, being late to my house to meet up with Raise Up Roof Beams so they could take me to their show (because in my dream, I was cool enough to have them take me to shows), having chair races, and having men in black SWAT team uniforms barge into my house, SO here it is.

JD is kind of a douche.  Ok, so he published about five books (two novels, three novellas (one of which has not been published in book form) and a book of nine short stories).  He got upset over the attention and became a recluse.  I think this is really terrible.  Publishing, I think, is somewhat of a selfish, vain act.  That’s not to say it’s bad, but it is those two things a little bit.  However, that all goes away when people start believing in what you’re publishing.  If JK had published all but the last Harry Potter book, can you imagine the outrage?  How selfish that would be.  WHY? Because people had started believing in what she was writing and it became not about her, it became bigger than her. JD is the same way.  So many people believed in the Glass family, in the unrelated Catcher in the Rye, and then he just cut us off.

Granted, JD is 90 now and probably going to die soon. But to the literary community, he’s been dead since his last interview in 1980, 29 years ago. Regardless of the obvious grief when someone dies, I’m sort of excited for him to die, because that means people can start to get to all the stuff he (hopefully) wrote since ’65 published posthumously.  And then we will all be a little bit happier.  Or, rather, I will be.

And that is my rant on JD Salinger.

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