Another guest column from Lucretia Lit this week.
She is awful; can’t wait to see what she has to reveal.
Messaging my Glitoris
with Lucretia Lit
NAUGHTY New Hampshire author Jodi Picoult has been going around insulting all those cute self-publishing writers.
Ms P was being interviewed on something odd called the Daily Beast. (one of my ex-husbands used to always wake up with that – how tiresome for me).Her advice to aspiring authors was an emphatic “do not self-publish’’.
Jodi dear, you published your first novel, Songs of the Humpback Whale way back in 1992. Let the new kiddies play with their lit toys anyway they want. Screeeowww!
TSE, Sweetie, you were quite right to lock Viv away in that mental hospital.
It was either you or her. What havoc recitations of your poetry would have caused to the already damaged minds of other inmates. Tseekah!
NO such excuses for you, J-J R, you Swiss scoundrel. Fancy surrendering you children to a foundling hospital.
And all that nonsense about religions being equally good. Are you mad? Oh, that’s right you are and don’t go blaming your critics for that.
There is no better religion than good old Christianity. I have offended against it many times and have always been forgiven. AROOSHKA!
OH, say it’s not you, Danny. When a book thumps the table with the title Whitney Amy Michael Elvis – Superstars are not Superhuman, it sends shivers up my spine – shivers of dread.
The author is accredited as D T Pollard. One D..T.. Pollard we know is Danny, of the clan, who wrote the successful Rooftop Diva: A Novel of Triumph After Katrina.
We know authors have to eat but do they have to do it through books which prevent readers keeping their food down. KABUSTED!
OOOH, Alex Crawford, luvie, it’s not all about you. Alex is a girl with a boy’s name . She works for Sky News, is most macho, and fits in well at Rupee’s Boys’ Club.
In February Alex in Libya sent an endearing story to Sky TV viewers about a freedom fighter who found one of Colonel Gaddafi’s hats. He may well have been among the freedom fighters who later ruthlessly butchered an unarmed Gaddafi, begging for clemency.
Geez, brave Alex, why not a book about your few days in Libya when the locals were kind enough to put on a war for you?
Let’s call it Colonel Gaddafi’s Hat to assure readers it’s your memoir without any of the big-picture guff.
And we thought all the fun and shallowness of Sky could not a book make. The cash registers go Kachinski!
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