I’ve never been a big fan of modern memoirs. These days, it seems that most of what populates the nonfiction bestseller lists veers toward the treacly or the titillating–pop-culture confessionals that celebrate victimhood as virtue or parade the worst kind of bad taste. Honestly, why would anyone plunk down their hard-earned cash to delve into Paris Hilton’s sex life? Well, obviously there’s a market for it, otherwise publishers wouldn’t be offering handsome advances for these tell-all books.
Don’t ...
Continue Reading →FEB



