It's been two years since I started this series of diaries.
That's right, gentle readers, two whole years since we embarked upon this perilous journey into the heart of darkest Badbookistan, armed only with pluck, luck, an unending supply of dried fruit, more bad jokes than one can shake a bazooka at, an unending supply of hairs from the Triple Felinoid decorating every stitch of clothing I possess and yes I do mean every stitch, and the ghost of the Sea Nymph canoe my father used to paddle across Hinckley Lake under the watchful eyes of the legendary buzzards. We've seen some truly horrific sights - who can forget the masterful theological insights of Arnold Beizer, attorney at law? - and some equally ridiculous ones - need I remind you of the Executioner's war wagon and the Baroness's cavorting borzois? - but always, always, we have taken this journey together, and by the grace of God, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, and our own native wits, we have survived thus far.
One would think that the journey into Badbookistan would surely not have taken this long. There are only so books that are both terrible and amusing, so many diaries that even the cleverest, best read, weirdest explorer can wring out of such thin territory. One would think that the well would have long since run dry, the mother lode been tapped out, the strained metaphors exhausted….
And one would be wrong.
If there is one thing I've learned on this journey, it's that there are far more risibly terrible books out there than anyone would suspect. From bad politics to bad science, bad comic books to bad movie tie-ins, bad poets to bad translations, the shelves of Badbookistan are groaning to the point of metal fatigue under the weight of the complete works of Harold Robbins and Jackie Collins, the Shakespearean follies of William Henry Ireland, the anti-feminist ravings of Midge Decter and the hideous run-on sentences of Marie Corelli. Even giants like Robert A. Heinlein and Ellery Queen can be found buried in the stacks, their missteps jammed in next to the horrors of Pel Torro and Amanda McKittrick Ros.
If I may indulge in one last hideously inappropriate metaphor, Badbookistan is a veritable Library of Alexandria of lousy literature.
Given this, is it any surprise that I've been able to keep up what should have been six month series, tops, for two years? And that there's no end in sight? Every time, gentle readers, every single time I think I'm about tapped out, that there are no more bad books to be mocked for your dining and dancing pleasure, I unearth yet another one, or two, or more more more I'm still not satisfied that will make a dandy diary.
Isn't that just wonderful?
In honor of this all this exploration, boldness, momentousness, etc., herewith follow a few of my personal favorite diaries, with short explanations of why I like them so darn much. Some were wildly popular with you, my loyal readers (not to mention Ruritania, Graustark, Cockaigne, Hi-Brazil, and in particular Latveria, where riots over the Midge Decter column nearly brought down the government), while others proved popular with no one on this site and one came within an inch of going viral.
For new readers: some of the diaries that follow mention my relatives (especially my aunt, who was, to put it mildly, a caution), others don't, but all start with an anecdote that relates the insanity to follow to my life in some way. This is in no way intended as a definitive guide to bad books, literary taste, or what I read for fun, but as a humorous and affectionate look at the literary equivalent of an Edward D. Wood, Jr., movie.
And so, gentle readers, join Sherman and Mr. Peabody in the Wayback Machine as we visit a selection of past explorations into the wilds of Badbookstan....
Lord of the Tree Pumpkins - my first foray into the world of terrible cover art, including such delights as the legendary Barbara Remington cover art painted for The Lord of the Rings before she'd actually read the books, a cover for Diane Duane's The Door Into Fire that may have played a part in preventing this splendid fantasy from reaching its audience, and a David Weber cover so ridiculous that it seems to have been yanked almost immediately.
Let's Talk Turkey - my aunt Betty's insistence on serving a Jell-O mold for dessert on Thanksgiving segues neatly into a diary on bad cookbooks, including instructions for cooking shrimp on one's exhaust manifold, references to "creamed coon casserole," and the virtues of sustainable, vegan living through roadkill.
A Novel of Unconventional Love - a more serious look at my aunt, centering on the tragic end to a friendship that had turned into something more (at least on the other person's part), followed by two love stories that are not precisely what the average reader might expect.
Noble, Honorable, and Utterly Unbelievable: The Unsung Influence of Jean-Louis de Pouffe - this is what I presented at the Kalamazoo International Medieval Studies Congress last May. Really.
Feminism, the Deep Illness - my personal history as a feminist, followed by two hysterical, hilarious, hypocritical screeds against women's rights by women who themselves were anything but the happy housewives they claimed to champion.
The Inklings Laughed - those of you who attend science fiction conventions are likely familiar with the tradition of reading aloud a terrible, terrible story, "The Eye of Argon." Imagine my shock when I learned that SF fen are only following in a tradition pioneered by literary giants JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis....
Fantasy Author Jane Yolen Under Attack By Tea Party- Jane Yolen is one of America's leading children's authors, with hundreds of books in print, a slew of awards, and a sterling reputation. She's also an old friend and former adviser to the Smith College Science Fiction and Fantasy Society, which I co-founded in 1980. I was horrified when I found out that a cut-rate Tea Party loon was going after her as an evil liberal, so wrote this diary...and to my shock, it was shared something like 400 times on Facebook, got mentioned on a couple of other SF/fantasy-oriented blogs, and damn near went viral. Go figure.
English As She Is Spoke - Pedro Carolino, who may or may not have been a pen name, decided to write an English-Portuguese phrasebook and dictionary despite not knowing a word of English. However, he (or they) did speak French, so this worthy person (or committee) did the best he (or they) could. What resulted practically asphyxiated Mark Twain, and how can you possibly top that?
Book Review: Ayn Rand Nation - I reviewed Gary Weiss's excellent takedown of Ayn Rand and her followers, and got a good response on this site. The Rand community, which turned out to be engaged in a concerted effort to downrate the book on Amazon.com, found out. They were less than pleased, which is how I found myself not only fending off Randians here, but on their own web sites. So! Much! FUN!
Nazi, Schmatzi! - my father bequeathed to me many things, including a picture of Adolf Hitler's bathtub he took as a young GI touring what was left of Der Fuehrer's mountain home after the RAF took revenge for the Blitz. I used this as an excuse to tee off on the insanity not only of Nazi thought but of books about the Nazis, all too many of which are nearly as stupid as the mere idea of a Master Race.
Walter Hunt - Walter Hunt, who writes wonderfully literate space opera and great alternate history, is one of my favorite authors. He's also one of my oldest and best-loved friends. This little ode to Walter and his books was my way of thanking him for all the support, friendship, and entertainment he's given me over the years.
My Love is Like a Red, Red - Falero, Lero, Loo? - love poetry guaranteed to make you swear a vow of celibacy from John Ruskin (who freaked out on his wedding night when he found that actual women were less, um, smooth than their statuary equivalents) to Mary Robinson (discarded mistress of George IV) to the immortal "Slocum Sluggs, Esq." and his ode to a pretty girl making coleslaw.
The Making of a Modern Myth - I'm a quilt historian by trade, with published articles and a worldwide reputation for my work on medieval and Renaissance quilting and patchwork. I research the bejesus out of everything I write, to the point that I visited Italy primarily to look at a single patchwork pillow from the 15th century. That is why Hidden in Plain View, which purports to explain the "Underground Railroad Quilt Code," drives me (and a lot of other quilt historians) absolutely insane, and why I wrote this diary...which had a mini-vogue on Facebook, God help us all.
Peper and Solt It As You Plese- Girl Scouts, American eccentrics, and a look at the opinions, literary legacy, and business acumen of American original Lord Timothy Dexter, the only man in the new American republic to have a garden filled with wooden statues, a fortune based on selling cats in the tropics, and his own personal ghost cleverly disguised as his long-suffering wife.
Naked Came the Libertine -
a college hoax that never was became an excuse for a diary describing not one, not two, but three whole books deliberately intended to be as bad as possible. One began as a joke that quickly spiraled out of control, one was a deliberate takeoff on the sexy bestsellers of the 1960s, and the third was a successful attempt to outfox a vanity publisher by the Science Fiction Writers of America. "I haven't been this stunned since my colonoscopy," read one review of the last, and the same could be said for this diary.
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And so, my dear and loyal friends, these some of my personal favorites from the first two years of this series. What are yours? Come join the fun!
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Readers & Book Lovers Series Schedule