There are authors I admire, both for their talent and their business prowess. It's not easy to get published, and it's even harder for that published material to become a success. I will admit to looking at their glossy book covers with just a twinge of envy, hopeful that one day it will be my turn. And then, there are those other books. The ones that make you want scream and pull your hair out.
I'm talking about bestsellers written by celebrities. And not worthwhile celebrities who have a lifetime of unique experiences to share. I'm talking about those trashy autobiographies by celebrities whose only claim to fame is that they're famous. Like Snooki or the Kardashians. Whenever I ask people why they're famous, no one has any idea. And yet they've climbed to the height of fame and are deemed somehow worthy of something that fantastic and evocative writers may never see. And that just pisses me off.
What really irritated me today was when I heard that Justin Bieber will be releasing a second book. Really? A SECOND book? I highly doubt there was enough material to fill the first. He's a child singer with a mushroom cut. What's to know? And yet, it sold millions of copies. And now there will be a sequel. It's enough to make you hang your head and cry.
We live in a society that idolizes celebrity. I know that. But please, I'm begging you, don't let trashy, shallow vessels of fame and fortune pollute something as precious as literature. Becoming a successful author is a long and difficult road, and that's a good thing. It builds character and crafts skill. Handing a contract to trashy celebrities spits in the face of everything books represent. Enough is enough. They can have our television but not our books!