“Being cranky about a Dan Brown book not being high literature is like yelling at a cupcake for not being a salad.”  — John Scalzi

(For the record, I’m not a fan of Dan Brown. I’ve never read any of his stuff, so I have no opinion whatsoever about him, his stories, or his writing abilities. I will say that, from what I know about The Da Vinci Code and its sequels, I don’t think he’d be my particular pint of beer. Nevertheless, I do seem to have a history of defending low-brow entertainment over serious art, whether we’re talking about pulp versus Literature-with-a-capital-L, Hollywood blockbusters compared to indie darlings, or ’80s pop metal against “important” music, so Scalzi’s comment — made in the context of refusing to slam Brown for being immensely successful while not being generally considered a “good” writer —  found a sympathetic ear with me. I’ve never understood the disdain that so many people seem to hold for simple escapism. Sometimes you really do just want to hear a story, or have a good time, and what’s wrong with that?)