Wodehouse the Prolific

Confession: I know I'm not going to finish "Ferian" tonight. But I'm going to do a scene tomorrow, and keep at it until the draft is done.

Reading:

• Someplace to be Flying, by Charles de Lint

Writing:

• "Ferian Fetlock Cures a Horse"

Revising:

• "Cora and the Sea"

Ninety-seven books. How can anyone have written ninety-seven books? The idea of completing a single short story in a month is daunting, and this man wrote multiple novels per year, not to mention countless short stories, plays, and lyrics for musical? He managed to create almost singlehandedly the genre of the romantic comedy in musical theater while simultaneously developing characters that have been archetypes? Hell, they even named the website AskJeeves after his character of that name!

I am in awe of Wodehouse, and it's not just his prolific nature, but the overall quality of his work. Yes, his characters and plots are all alike, but that's not the joy of reading him. It's his use of this English language, the well-turned phrase, the juxtaposition of the serious with the comic, the high-flown with the slangy, that has never been successfully imitated. The man is a genius.

Twice since I moved to Long Island, I have visited his grave. It sits at the back corner of a well-tended cemetery on the more fashionable end of Long Island. Not flashy, not ostentatious, simply tasteful. The grave of a gentleman.

How can the man be so like and yet so unlike his characters? He was a marvel, and absolutely everyone should read him. Right now.