Mission Statement

I am currently doing an independent study of Literary Journalism at Middle Tennessee State University. This blog will keep track of what I am reading, and, more importantly, what I am learning.

First, this study will comprise mostly of reading books and posting in this blog. I have composed a tentative reading list based on the suggestions of Dr. David Badger, my instructor who will oversee my studies and offer suggestions. Also, every title is at the MTSU library. I’ve listed these titles in the right-hand sidebar under Reading List, just below the Archives.

Granted, I would like to read other books, but, alas, I’m extremely poor and limited to what’s available for free at the library. I’m quite upset that the library has no...no!...Hunter S. Thompson books. This was the author I was most excited about, and after I decided to undertake this independent study I went immediately to check out his books. Every single one was either late, lost, or otherwise unaccounted for. One title actually showed up as "Available," but it was not in the library and nobody knew where it was. This gave me a bad feeling right off. What is it about Hunter S. Thompson books that drives students to shrug off their prompt return? Could his writing style be so dismal that it turns blooming college students into nihilists, too busy contemplating nothingness to return their library books on time?

I have listed 28 books total. When I first came up with this list I immediately went into hyperventilation. How could I read all these books in under four month and still keep up with my other studies? I felt like I should do a test run, so I checked out some books from the library and started reading them over the Christmas break.

The books were Hooking Up, And The Band Played On, In Cold Blood and Music for Chameleons. I read Hooking Up in two days. The writing style kept me so inthralled that I couldn’t put it down. If the rest of the books are anything like this one, I welcome the chance to devour them all.

In addition to this reading list, I will also read a few critical books on the subject of Literary Journalism, but I don’t want to focus on this aspect of the genre just yet. My plan is to read as much as I can without over-analyzing what I’m reading, without looking for “significance.” This is simply a matter of practicality. Being a former English major, I know how much joy can be sucked from the pages of a great book when all you think about is what you will write about. I want to read these books for their own sake, appreciate them for what they are, and judge them with a virgin eye. There’s plenty of time to critique. But I don’t want to get caught up in the “significance” game.

To keep track of my reading, I will do at least a few posts for every book I read. These won't be perfect literary analyses, because this post is as much for me to keep track of my personal thoughts as it if for public record. To some extent, this blog will be a notebook of my thoughts and experiences as I acquaint myself with this wonderful genre. Some of the posts will be gut reactions. For instance, I might write an initial post about a book before I even crack the pages. This post might include what I know about the author, what I’ve heard about the book and what I I expect from it. Then I might post some thoughts about the author’s style and literary techniques that strike me as novel.

I will also make several general posts, such as when I come across a Big Idea. For example, I might find a thread of literary techniques that connect one author to another.

Finally, my plan is to make one final, and tidy, post for each book. This post should include my final thoughts about the overall work and some conclusions about the author, the topic and the writing.

I definitely have my work cut out for me, but at this point I feel more like I’m embarking on an adventure than starting a class. So here we go...

The New Novel

The American novel is dying, not of obsolescence, but of anorexia. It needs…food. It needs novelists with huge appetites and mighty, un-slaked thirsts for…America…as she is right now. It needs novelists with the energy and the verve to approach America the way her moviemakers do, which is to say, with the ravenous curiosity and an urge to go out among her 270 million souls and talk to them and look them in the eye. If the ranks of such novelists swell, the world—even that effete corner which calls itself the literary world—will be amazed by how quickly the American novel comes to life. Food! Food! Feed me! Is the cry of the twenty-first century in literature and all the so-called serious arts in America. The second half of the twentieth century was the period when, in a pathetic revolution, European formalism took over America’s arts, or at least the non-electronic arts. The revolution of the twenty-first century, if the arts are to survive, will have a name to which no ism can be easily attached. It will be called “content.” It will be called life, reality, the pulse of the human beast.

Tom Wolfe, Hooking Up