Slow Down

Something to chew on:

“And in an age of sort of Twitter and Facebook, and all the rest of it, where language is just witty and snappy and quick, and meant to amuse rather than kind of be profound in any way, and certainly the brevity of it sort of precludes that, you got to make time for poetry and other things as well.”

Click here for the whole shebang.

Oh, the irony of posting this on a blog. Anyway, I just finished Glover’s Mistake by Mr. Laird, which was pretty damn good, though it often made me feel uneasy. That’s a good thing, actually. What more would one ask for a sort of Othello in the internet age? The poetry, especially in To a Fault, is still where Laird shines brightest, but I think Laird’s coming along as a novelist quite well.

But to the point: slowing down and making time for poetry, or, if poetry’s not your thing, for writing that requires attention and dedication, is a very good idea. So often I hear people complaining about demands the author of a book made on them. I find this a bit depressing. Sure, there are books that don’t grab you, that are poorly written, or simply are not right for the moment, but I’ll never complain that a writer didn’t make a brilliant book easy to follow. There are rewards that come with focus and attention that perhaps are lost in the age of Twitter. Sorry to sound like a Luddite, but I’ll always take Keats over Tweets.