Reminder: Still time to comment this week–one commenter will win a first-chapter critique and book journal. Drawing Sunday. One comment per day per person, please. Details to the right.
re: Celebrity books. Three people in the last week or so have mentioned to me how many millions
the tea party tart Sarah Palin has made from her book, Going Rogue. Of course, I probably shouldn’t bash the book since 1) I haven’t read it and 2) I will not be reading it in this lifetime.
There are always going to be memoir tell-alls and celebrity pontifications galore. Who cares.
Instead, let’s talk about the pros and cons of celebrity fiction writers. I mean, James Franco is adorable but will people buy his forthcoming novel because it’s good, or because he’s James Franco and he’s adorable?
Argument one: celebrity pulp is good for the publishing industry because it brings megabucks into companies that, theoretically, could spend it promoting real fiction.
Argument two: celebrity pulp is, well, pulp.
My hat’s off to Joe Hill, who has three books on my wish list right now and waited till his third to reveal that he was, indeed, the son of Stephen King. He made it on his own. And I really, really want to read Horns.
Who knows? But, in the meantime, enjoy a nice excerpt from supermodel Katie Price’s latest, Sapphire, a bestseller allegedly written by a ghostwriter who was wise enough to keep her name off it:
Jay, her current lover, was four years younger than her, extremely good looking and was great in bed. What more did a girl want, Sapphire reflected as she parked her cherry-red Mini Cooper in the underground garage and headed for the lifts up to her penthouse apartment.”
What more, indeed. And, no, I didn’t buy it. Have you ever succumbed to a celebrity-penned novel?