“It’s doubtful that anyone with an internet connection at his workplace is writing good fiction.”
Good anything. To the millennials Franzen may be the angry old coot across the road whose house always looks better covered in toilet paper, but I dare anyone to deny the idea behind what he says up there, if not the empirical fact.
For writers, the internet sucks–in every sense of the word. It sucks willpower, sucks time, sucks quality. OK, it blows the networking game open and it makes 97 of every 100 facts in existence available at a click. Which is great–so great, the beast’s powers of distraction must be incredible to outweigh those benefits.
And they are. Do you write better or worse because of the internet? Tabbed browsing is not conducive to fully-formed ideas. It is channel surfing on amphetamines. Where is this going, where is this taking us?
I appreciate the lulz inherent in posting about this on a blog, but it’s been a long popcorn brain day I need to put to bed.