Literature is drowning in humanity. Venerating, above ideas, a faux honesty more accurately called journalism.
We need to resuscitate a creative idealism that serves as more than a smug commentary on society—taking the chance that it is for the better. Instead of being so impressed with our ability to condescend, it’s time to ask nothing short of everything from the reader.
No more squishy, weak, apathy that goes nowhere and anesthetizes with commerce and pharmaceuticals. Aspiring to apathy is treading water with a broken limb.
What we ask of our reader, we ask of our society: think, feel, rage against and for, but never wallow in mediocrity. Going along to get along makes for submissive swine, quick to slit their neighbor’s throat. Ignorant of one another’s worth—a lazy hatred for reaching out and failing.