The post-person delivered another book for me to review today. I always open review books hopefully, but a little nervously. Ploughing through something I hate and then having to write a review is tedious, and I resent the time it takes, but the lovely feeling that accompanies reading a fresh voice, a good writer, is brilliant. Plus, of course, I am ever so delighted by FREE books, to be paid to read fiction and give an opinion is a (mini) dream come true.

Anyway, these proofs always come with a publishers blurb which attempt to sell both the novel and the author. I have never read a blurb with such…I’m not sure, gob smacked envy? My goodness, this woman seems to have lived a life I didn’t know really could exist out of the pages of a novel. She may well be a wonderful person, so I don’t want to name her, but to give a flavour of the bio:

Ms Posh Name is 27. She is very beautiful, her lovely face adorns the blurb. She is an actress, and a prize winning classical musician, she is also a journalist who writes for all the decent newspapers one can think of. Did I mention her double first at Cambridge? Her Masters at Harvard? She is married, does a lot of charity work, and wrote this debut novel in-between filming scenes whilst on location. I have no idea what the book will be like, but cripes, sitting here, fat, old, with a cold and aches and holding my very own pity party, I just feel so inadequate.

7 thoughts on “Inadequacy!”

  1. The book is shit. I don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. She has her book published and “out there.” I can’t even write mine.

  2. I’m sure it’s alot easier to write “shit”. You, I am sure, are writing good material, which I shall enjoy when you have written it and someone has published it. I am not likely to buy the one you are reviewing, even if I find out what it is.

  3. Dear Mrs Old-Cold-Fat-and-Aching,You’re not in competition with this woman, whoever she is. You have your own life to live. Enjoy it. For all we know, Ms Posh Name might be thoroughly miserable. Maybe she’s poxed up. Maybe she’s struggling with drug addiction. Maybe she wants to go twenty minutes without her mobile ringing. Maybe what she most wants in the whole world is to sit on a sofa wearing lived-in slippers and just enjoy an episode of Coronation Street with a mug of Red Bush and some digestives. Maybe.

  4. Laughing @ Bob. Yeah, you’re right, of course. I know that, but seriously, her bio is jaw droppingly privileged and chock full of achievement in a way I figured would only be true in a glossy novel.

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