Wednesday, January 31, 2007

And Now I Also Hate Michael Patterson

First the Granthony Debacle, and now this. Has Lynn Johnston started huffing oven cleaner or something?

Like the Great Wall of China, the plot turns in "For Better or for Worse" are clearly visible from outer space. We all knew that eternal-good-boy Michael Patterson would sell the "novel" he's been working on between toddler wrangling and battling the boorish Kelpfroths downstairs. But did it have to happen in the most unrealistic and ludicrous manner possible?

I feel confident that no writer in the entire history of publishing has sent an unagented, unsolicited manuscript (one rescued from a devastating house fire, no less) to a single publisher and a month later received a contract for $25,000. $25K in CANADIAN dollars, but still...

It never works like that. Never. To believe otherwise is the height of cluelessness. Ms. Johnson, watch your step, because it's a mighty long drop.

If this were "Get Fuzzy," I wouldn't mind. If Satchel (or, hell, even Bucky Kat) somehow wangled a three-book deal for an insane wad of cash, I'd think that was awesome. But "FbofW" pretends to take place in the real world. I don't expect to see Granthony gored by a unicorn (though I wouldn't complain), and I can't swallow that Michael Patterson could sell his first attempt at a novel, especially if it reads like any of these horrible letters.

You can foob some of the people some of the time, but you can't foob all of them all of the time.

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