Story

From Sara Nell

The thing with poetry is that there are not that many words, so each word must be concentrated. As a piece of fiction is considerably longer, most water their words down in favor of length. It is my personal belief that this is unnecessary. There is no need to sacrifice strength for length—need we forget Ulysses or the Brothers K.? The ideas are all there. They always are. It is obvious there is a story played out, in refined detail in the writer’s head; however, it does not translate into my head. Perhaps it is personal taste. I will always prefer the detail of Steinbeck and the flowery language of Hardy to the simplicity of Vonnegut or the stream of thought best defined to Kerouac. I would recommend Burroughs—especially Queer or Naked Lunch. Even though his story/characters did not transition from dream to reality, but from drugged-out-coma to inevitable decay; Burroughs draws the reader seamlessly from plausible, to ludicrous, to gut-punchingly-honest.