Why is the literary world obsessed with the process of becoming damaged?
Why is it considered good writing to write about that process and bad writing to write about healing? The process of becoming undamaged?
Have you noticed in books these days, the ones that show the horrors of humanity with a main character that ends the series emotionally and mentally worse off than when they started, is lauded and extolled as high quality stuff?
Books written, showing the better side of humanity with goodness, hope and forgiveness and a main character that ends a better person than they started, is considered shallow, unrealistic and fluffy?
Why is one point of view more valid than the other? Are we all emotionally bereft? Are we incapable as human beings of improvement, hope and joy? Are those things any less real than depravity, anger and sorrow? Are they not also part of the human experience?
Why aren't the better emotions worthy of exploring in our literary world? Why are they casually dismissed as fluff? Proclaimed to be okay if you want escapism reading, said with a curling sneer on the end of the lips.
Why is only what is depressing, unedifying and angry considered literary?
What is wrong with us?
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