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Speaking of bad popular writing, I just read a book in the Doc Savage series of pulp adventure novels written in the, er, 30s? Maybe 40's. He's often credited with being the world's first superhero in the modern sense, and that may be true. Among other things (all things, really), he is the world's greatest athlete, scientist, and brain surgeon. People crash their cars when they see him walking down the street, due to his awesomeness being so apparent. He doesn't have a bank account; when he needs money he sends a telegram to some Mayans who then send a shipment from their city of gold. I recommend it, if only for its absurdity.
Here's a paragraph out of the book. Note I say paragraph.
"And then something dangerous happened!"
Really.
Also he lives in what he calls his "Fortress of Solitude." This was years before Superman, a character likely based on Savage.
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