Writer's Block
I've been struggling, for what seems like a millennium, to come up with some sort of new post for this site, and I've hit nothing but dead ends. I don't like the idea of forcing myself to write a post, and this most certainly seems to qualify for being forced in every sense of the word. However, it does put me in mind of another sort of critical writer's dilemma that I've seen plague some of the many writers whose work I really admire. Writers such as Douglas Coupland, whose novels from Generation X to Microserfs, seem to be on a crash course for failure and lackluster accomplishments. Recent works from the burnouts seem very forced and lacking in the creativity department. Plots that start off strong seem to easily fizzle out without any real rhyme or reason other than the fact that the plot twists that are added seem forced and out of place. Instead of staying the course, novelists who write about the disaffected youths of yesteryear, today, and tomorrow seem to be out of ideas that adequately portray the angst and disillusionment of life today. Random plot points creep into the narratives and throw off, sometimes wildly, what could otherwise be considered a solid work of fiction. What's going on with novelists these days? It seems to me that the old school writers, like Roth and Updike, are the only ones capable of producing affecting works that will stand the test of time and remain on the reading lists of future generations. It's a sad notion to think that the youthful writers of today are burning out so fast and so early on in their careers, but sometimes it's probably best to fade away than to burn out.