Have we mentioned our esteem for the press?
Good, then we can move on. Sara Nelson starts the day with a story that would almost work…if only she’d found a better example. She says that actors are sidling out of their glittery lives with novels (novels!) in hand, seeking yet another revenue stream. We will pause a for moment to reflect on their gall.
Done? If not, you can catch up later — we’re busy people here.
Alas, the slithery, slimy actor she chooses is, well, a writer. Not that his behavior should be excused, oh no. But Chris Elliott has already been published (non-fiction, but it was a funny book, so it practically counts as fiction), produced, etc. Now if she’d told us that someone along the lines of Pamela Anders…oh wait, damn, maybe she’s onto something.
1 response so far ↓
Dan Wickett // Sep 2, 2004 at 6:35 pm
Booksquare,
Agreed. Elliott’s spoof on daddy dearest books was hilarious if you enjoy his offbrand sort of humor. The obsession with gold toe socks remains with me to this day.
Enjoy,