Brave New Post

January bitch slapped me. And yes, put me behind a bit. Although I have been reading, I have not been blogging. The writing, editing, pitching, pushing, ad nauseming of my own book rattled my brain. As did Catch 22, I'm not going to lie.

I didn't like it. It seemingly took FOREVER to read. This is the pain we put teenagers through? No wonder so many grow up to be adults who hate reading.

I admired Catch 22 for its humor, however I also admire Abbot and Costello for theirs, but could under no circumstances sit through a 12-hour Abbot and Costello act using all the same rhythms and pacing of comedy. Although, it's my humble opinion that Abbot and Costello would know better than to put its audiences through that.

I adored the use of nonsensical satire to explore bureaucratic absurdity, particularly within a military perspective, however... the joke went on way too long in my opinion. And I realize the crap I'll probably get from other bookies over this. "You're critiquing Joseph Heller, Kate? Really? You wanna go there?"

Yes. I do.

I perform improv comedy where scenes are made up on the spot between people on stage and other teammates (players) wait on the backline for a perfect time to contribute either by walking into the scene to add or support something, or to edit it by running across the stage and thus ending one scene for another to begin. Editing is an art, or I should say, knowing when to edit is an art.

And the general rule follows: If you're thinking about editing, you're too late.

Heller was too late.

Truth be told, I don't remember most of what I read. Granted, my mind was elsewhere and I was beginning to think my ability to mentally latch onto a written work was blocked due to my need to work on my own writing. I panicked for a bit.

Heller had me hella scared.

But then I picked up Brave New World and immediately it was as if I was gasping for breath, the first violent pull for air after being revived from a drowning accident.

That's right. I just likened Catch 22 to drowning.

And although Yossarian was comical and hilarious to observe like an animal in a foreign environment, he was impossible to care for because, in absolutely no known reality, would he ever care for me.

And if Heller had cared for me, it would have been a novella.