Seen but not Ahern
Cecelia Ahern is not a particularly well-known name, and one wouldn’t suppose that her novel would have brought her much in the way of fame (it sounds like the kind of toss most 21yos with a grasp of English could churn out if they could be bothered); indeed, you'd question whether in the ordinary run of things it would be published at all. Ms Ahern's father is Bertie, Irish Taoiseach.
It's good business, I hear you cry. People will buy a celeb's book. Well, not always. Of course, Duncan Smith's publisher, Robson Books is not in the business of publishing quality literature -- Jan Leeming is not even Get Me Out of Here grade, let alone someone whose autobiography you'd want to read.
I lament the days of the gentleman publisher. Not only because I personally have close to fuck-all chance of writing anything even vaguely "saleable" -- or at least of learning how to sell, the two things being, I'm beginning to suspect, one and the same --but because there is literally nothing to read. In most genres there is nothing new to say, and in literary fiction publishers are more often plumping for the goodlooking, marketable chick.
Here's what I don't get, though. If you're girlfriend's goodlooking, she's nicer to fuck, fair enough. But are the little notes she sticks on the fridge sweeter?
posted by Dr Zen @ 9:54 pm
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