Whatever happened to "reading for pleasure?" I've just made my way through the Pulitzer Prize winner by Junot Diaz. This isn't the place for a review, though if you want to read one you'll find it soon on Senior Women Web. It's unbelievably grim in spite of the large doses of humor, but it's such black humor! The literary journals seem to be specializing in fiction that is harrowing or horrifying or both.
I remember reading great stories in numerous long-gone slick magazines. They weren't funny--at least most weren't, but they were both serious and entertaining. They often had upbeat endings. Maybe I'm losing my courage and my stomach (the proverbial one, I mean), but I don't want to find the grittiest reality and the worst socio-economic tragedies in every magazine and half the books I pick up in the hopes of a good read. I'm tired of words unprintable except in the most literary or avant guard publications; I'm sick of shock and awe on every page; horror isn't any fun for me and I can't comprehend why it is for practically all the rest of the world under the age of 50! Thank goodness for the wonderful writers of good mysteries!
Please, just tell me a good story?