It’s the birthday of novelist Thomas Pynchon (1937), who manages to avoid more journalists by breakfast than most of us will avoid all day. Pynchon’s novels can best be characterized as “weird” (I hope I’m not being too technical).

Pynchon was born in Long Island, New York, studied English at Cornell (but took a two-year break to do a stint in the Navy), and worked briefly as a technical writer for Boeing in Seattle, Washington. With his first novel, V. (1963), he hit one out of the park and won the Faulkner Foundation Award. V. is about a traveler’s quest to find a mysterious, supernatural woman known only as V. who appears in various incarnations throughout European history. (I think. Even the summaries of this novel are hard to follow.) He then wrote The Crying of Lot 49 (1966), which involves another quest and “serves as a condemnation of modern industrialization” (“Thomas Pynchon: American Writer,” britannica.com). But he’s best known for his 1973 novel, Gravity’s Rainbow, about a mission to track down German V2 rockets immediately post WWII. (In part. Once again, very confusing summaries. Something about a dominatrix. I can’t try to read this right now, as I’m still in recovery from Infinite Jest.)

Gravity’s Rainbow won the National Book Award in 1974 and was unanimously recommended to win the Pulitzer that same year, but the board vetoed the recommendation, calling the novel “unreadable,” and awarded no prize in fiction that year. Gravity’s Rainbow shows up on a lot of Greatest Novels Ever Written-type lists.

Twenty life points to anyone out there who has read it.

Pynchon has long been called reclusive by a frustrated media (he wouldn’t even appear to accept his National Book Award, sending comedian Professor Irwin Corey in his place) but did do two cameo appearances on The Simpsons because his son liked the show. Both times Pynchon is depicted with a paper bag over his head. His latest novel is Bleeding Edge (2013).

It’s also the birthday of Peter Benchley (1940-2006), best known as the author of Jaws (1974), itself best known as the precursor to the greatest movie ever produced in any genre whatsoever. (In some people’s opinion.) Benchley later became a serious conservationist to help make up for the bad rep he gave sharks. More on Benchley next year.

Have a day filled with wholesome social interactions and no sharks and stay scrupulously honest to the data.