Saturday, 25 June 2011

A Shore Thing by Nicole 'Snooki' Polizzi

I will not be reading this.

Not to totally shred her wee book, but I cannot, for the life of me understand what is so compelling about drunken twenty somethings that apparently makes such fascinating television and reading material.  From all accounts she may be using the money she earns in this caper to turn over a new leaf, grow up some and get started on this thing called Real Life, and good for her.  Use the opportunities life throws at you, they are few and far between.  But people like me would rather read a ripping good yarn than wonder at the thoughts inside a sozzled head.  Once again, I have to admit that one of the reasons I cannot get published is that corporations are intent on making the millions out of - let's face it - titillating diaries of the rich and famous masquerading as fiction.  It's hard enough to get into the publishing industry without bookshelves being clogged up by vacuous accounts of people who should probably know better than to get so drunk they don’t remember what happened the previous day and are consequently arrested or charged.  We shouldn’t be celebrating this kind of behaviour.  It’s all well and good to publish a memoir, but please don’t pass it off as an original, fictional novel.  Yes, one of the adages of the author is to 'write what you know'.  But this is just something to take inspiration from, not to lift whole days or weeks or years from your own life so that anyone you might know will recognise themselves in the pages.  And likely be offended. 

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