As I read the latest reviews in the NYT Book review, I am struck by the degree to which fewer and fewer of us read for serious purposes outside of entertainment in fiction. It used to be the kind of winnowing, soul-searching, adventure and mental stimulation now associated with today's readers of the nonfiction list were to be found browsing in the literary aisles. What has happened? Have we made fiction too familiar (the MFA workshop syndrome), too banal (the genre affliction), or possibly, do we just tolerate less innovation and forthrightness in our authors? And is this because we are a prime-time people, used to standardization of tastes, or has commercialization narrowed our options? In the thousands of books published each year, how many are truly different? What do you think?
Causes Glenda Burgess Supports
St.Judes Childrens Research Hospital
Shriners Childrens Hospitals
Doctors without Borders
American Lung Association