Monday, March 15, 2004

Remainders of the day 

Publisher's Lunch is reporting live from the London Book Fair and so the following goodies are directly attributed to Monsieur Cader and his merry band of silent henchmen:

Lord of the Rings, the Musical? Oh my god, please let it not be true. But it seems to be. Gag me, please. What's worse than hobbits in general? SINGING hobbits. Aaaaaah!

First, there was Belle de Jour. A little bit of blogging, a lot of sex talk, and now she has a six-figure deal. Now, here come the spinoffs. There's Beau du Jour, who seems to delight in stalking call girls and fanboying after Belle, and even more humorously, there's Belle de Jew: professional by day, shulgoing demure lass by weekend. Amazingly, I think she's someone's basheert....

Mark your calendars as Kitty Kelley's tell-all on the Bush family will drop on September 14. Will it do enough damage to affect the election, or just dish a lot of good but ultimately worthless dirt? Time, obviously, will tell.

And one of the big celebrity biographies that's being hawked at LBF is by the unclassifiable celeb known to all and sundry in the UK as Jordan. But embarrassingly, the book she held up for a photo op was blank--no text between the covers. Publicity stunt, or something more telling? Reminds me of the old story about legendary pitcher Dizzy Dean after he was hit by a baseball that careened back at him. He went for X-rays, and the next morning the papers trumpeted the headline "X-RAY OF DEAN'S HEAD: SHOWS NOTHING" (paraphrased, but you get the drift.)

Ron has started interviewing authors again, like he used to on a regular basis at Beatrice some years back. This one with Leslie Silbert, author of THE INTELLIGENCER, caught my eye as I'm currently reading this, her debut novel, and enjoying it immensely.

And finally, our favorite indignant blogger has been on a freaking roll of late. He's compiled the Literary Hipster's Handbook, started a campaign to get people snail-mailing again, and forges a link between blurb whoring and well, real whoring. Or something. Not that such a thing ever happens in the literary world. Oh, never, not in the slightest. Well, except for one reviewer for a major paper who gave a favorable review to his on-again, off-again girlfriend. But we'll chalk that up as a one-off....

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