After reading the “review” you wrote for “Contentville” of your Werewolf Club #2 book, my initial reaction was to shout “Sell-out!” to the computer screen.
Then I thought “eh”. Half of your books have been commercial junk. Some readable, others not. Good for you. I hated the first Werewolf Club book, but what do I know? I’m ten years too old for it, for crying out loud! (Although, by that standard, uh never mind. What did I know back then?) At best, you like many good authors through the ages, straddle a thin line between high and low “art”. If the Greek aristocrats had loved bathroom humour instead of Oedipus, more low-brow garbage would have survived, and the world would be entirely different.
Anyway, I still consider it tacky to review your own work for that column, but, um, “eh.”
Here's the thing about high and low art, Justin--you, (and I mean me, the artist), can't always tell which is which. As to what Greek aristocrats loved more, and how much low-brow garbage has survived, I choose not to be the one to break it to you. Draw your own conclusions, in your own time. As to it being tacky for me to review my own book, I assure you no more tacky than what some of those regular reviewers are apt to do.
