The Everyday Links of Indifference and Boredom
Today, three of those have their Calvins in a knot over the latest roman a clef to make its way from editorial hand to sweaty editorial hand. The once girlfriend of a once bigshot once editor of the New York Times has written an novel about a girlfriend of a bigshot editor at the "New York Tribune." One wonders how she is able to so fully project herself into another character.
It's called "Touched by an Ink Stained Hand."
I've said it before, but this has reminded me of how much I want to someday be thinly veiled. I don't care whether it's in a book, or a movie, or a song, or a freakin' infomercial, and I don't care whether it's flattering or not, I just hope to someday be the subject of a scandalous pseudonovel. One famous enough to land speculation about my character in the first item of Richard Johnson's column.
It's far better to be thinly veiled than to be totally revealed, sort of akin to how it's much sexier to see a dude in a wifebeater and boxer briefs than it is to see him flopping around naked (or, god forbid, naked except for socks). It's all about plausible deniability. Maaaaybe I'm Kate Cakaice, but maaaaybe I'm not. I don't know darling, those artists, who knows where their ideas come from. Now run get me another martini.