Saturday, August 1, 2009
A Book About...Nothing
So, how do you suppose Melanie Gideon, the Jerry Seinfeld of memoirs, here, got Jordin Pavlin at Knopf, who will not give most writers the time of day, to publish her book? "Dear Ms. Pavlin: I'm sending you my book, which is about ennui $150.00 hair cuts, and a happy marriage. It's called The Slippery Year: A Meditation in Happily Ever After." Not only did Pavlin take the book, but she helped restructure it into something viable. And they call things quiet these days to discourage publication. I don't get it. Or maybe I'm just jealous (of Gideon's magically happy life and bubbly sense of humor about it), which is not very generous, is it? The reality is: some of us get shit (abuse in childhood, disinheritance in adulthood, inability to get published) and some of us are Melanie Gideon.