Dear Otto
Cynicism aside I can hardly wait for the next edition of the New York Sun and with it the thoughts of Otto Penzler. Last week Otto raised eyebrows with his article in the Sun deploring the state of our beloved biz and its shackling uber-genre ChickLit. His logic rose like one of those strange fondues engulfing the metropolis in its irrevocable journey toward the kitchen floor along the lines of “What’s the Matter with Kids These Days?”
It turns out that Jennifer Weiner is to blame, for what I’m not sure, except Mickey Spillane died, a Golden Era passed, and a nice lady at Harper-Collins wants to have more wedding planner mysteries. Certainly impending nuptials are frought with emotional impedimenta as Julia Roberts has demonstrated over the years in Romantic Comedies. Not to enshrine Otto’s angst in the frivolity of modern film making, but discerning members of the viewing public can adjust their expectations based on the trailers. A few moments of strategic viewing reveals that Julia isn’t doing a remake of CITIZEN KANE. Books are trickier, of course, the stray reader could confuse Jennifer Weiner with Charlie Willeford and have a nervous breakdown if and when a hardboiled PI begins keeping a journal or chooses to rush the doorman at Saks for the Spring Sale. Otto fears our sensibilities will be hostage to a crime solving cat, that the crime genre is being hijacked by cozy authors, that the devil not only wears Prada, but understands what that means.
Otto blames Jennifer Weiner for writing a romantic mystery, for diluting a pure form. He implies her crossover is a sinister attempt to sell a bunch of books. I think every novelist is interested in selling a bunch of books. It’s cynical, I know, but I’m going right out and getting a cat, and on the way home, maybe I’ll plan a wedding.
August 14th, 2006 at 3:52 pm
My cat gave up a life of crime solving and is now a wedding planner. Which isn’t bad considering the alternative was to be an uninformed columnist for the SUN.
August 14th, 2006 at 4:40 pm
You may have the ingredients for a bestseller. Why cats? Why not primates?
August 15th, 2006 at 9:38 am
The man is barking up the wrong tree. The problem isn’t that chick-lit is invading other fields (more power to it), but the fact that, at last count, only about 17 men in this country read anything last year other than the backs of cereal boxes and the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition.
Of those 17 men who actually read a novel last year, 9 of them did so because they grabbed a Robert Ludlum novel at an airport bookstall. The recent banning of most carry-on items on planes suggests that the number of males reading novels in 2007 will drop to a total of 8 guys…and I hear one of them is quite elderly.
August 15th, 2006 at 9:43 am
You’re not knocking the Swimsuit edition I hope. Those articles are great.