Don't you hate it when someone else writes a really good book?
OK, hate it and love it. But come on, the world is so crowded with books, do we really need to encourage newcomers? And competition? Does anyone actually LIKE competition? The word itself makes me cringe. I keep meaning to write a dystopian futurist novel about a world in which all books except mine are banned, and everyone has to buy lots of copies and read them all the time because there's NOTHING ELSE. But enough about me.
So, there's this person called Andrea Seigel, and I think she lives in California. From her picture she looks young, which I also hate. She should be suffering now, so she can find fulfilment as an old person (see also, me). And really, I didn't want to read her dumb book. I've got my own hopeless plotless nightmare to finish, not to mention unread manuscripts piling up everywhere. So, I read a few pages, knowing I could throw it away with a clear conscience when it turned out to be awful.
And damn it, it was fantastic. The last thing I liked this much was written by a Pulitzer Prize winner. (Yes, mom, I know I'm prone to hyperbole, but this writer's got a VOICE.)
Anyway, it's called The Kid Table (not sure about the title, my only complaint), it's ostensibly YA (but really, much too good to share with anyone under the age of consent) and Bloomsbury wants to put a very very silly cover on it so people think it's teen chicklit, which it's not. I've inserted two mock-ups just to prove that the cover-misery thing transcends borders. The book won't be out till September, and then only in the US, so I guess all us ex-pats better move back home and stop acting so superior.
Well done, Andrea. Damn damn damn.