Keith and Paul came over last night and we walked in the neighbourhood.
Apart from running laundry and writing and a brief schlep and returning library books I did nothing yesterday. Very happy with progress. I read George’s most recent blog post to Chipper and she enjoyed it; I also fired it off to mOm.
I have to stay off the internet today, it makes me so unreasonably mad! Although I do enjoy knowing what my friends are up to. Also, when a man disagrees with me it isn’t always misogyny although Jumping Jimmy Christmas it appears that way sometimes.
So I looked up the guy’s name on the internet, found out that he’s a prof at a University one of my fOlks graduated from, read his student reviews, and realized that even if he is a published sf author, and even if his comments on genre are pronounced with professorial fussiness – I don’t have to take him as seriously as he obviously takes himself. All before 7 am.
The reason I say this is as follows. He says Madeleine L’Engle’s Wrinkle in Time ruined the genre fiction by mixing magic based (fantasy) and science based (science fiction).
OH BWA TO THE HA TO THE HA HA HA.
It’s all fiction, ya dingbat. Genre is a convenience. It’s not holy textual purity for crying out loud.
I am mashing genres so hard with this trilogy they’ve all gone off to get ice and aspirin, but they’ll be back.
