September 20th, 2021 - Yente

Dear TNY,

Today is a Monday in which there is much shit to do on my end, so I got a jump on “Yente”.

And I want to thank you.  This dogshit summary-fest is so fucking bad I was able to skim it, and get nothing, such that I could write this letter before the shit I need to get done even starts.  Huzzah!

And before we lose that point, literature is supposed to be so good that it demands our attention.  I’ve had more urgent bowel movements than this story.  I’d rather listen to my dead grandmother tell me about the time she went to Africa than reread this story (note, I wasn’t that much of a fan of my grandmother and I’d heard that story about 10,000 times).

I’m digressing here. 

This story isn’t literature.  About 80% of this is a character sketch (an abhorrent practice that 1) sets the author up to ensure they cannot engage us with intrigue, as they already know everything that will happen before they set out, and 2) trains the author to write in summary mode instead of revealing who the characters are by their actions in scene).  I just don’t get this shit.  This is a story which would never make it through a 101 level workshop without getting demolished.  And I don’t want you to think I believe all Art should be focus-grouped like that.  I fucking don’t.  But a circle of peers should be able to read this and say, “…Nah, this’s a dickturd,” and then fucking move on.  But your circle of “peers” is so derelict in their duties that you go ahead and publish the motherfucker.

Whatever.  You’re embarrassing.

I think this story can be best described by its author: 

Now, in the semidarkness and the throng of guests, all names seem somehow fluid, interchangeable, secondary.

I’ll go ahead and add one more sentence after that: 

Pointless and forgettable.

See you next week, dickwads!

Nick