I’m reading this book called The Frog King: A Love Story and on the cover is a quote from Bret Easton Ellis that reads, “Probably the funniest young-guy-in-New York novel since Bright Lights, Big City.” So I think to myself, “What an ass, comparing this book to his own book and who does he think he is calling his own book funny and yadda yadda yadda.” I’m really inappropriately annoyed at Ellis, until as I’m brushing my teeth, I think, “Ooohh! Ellis didn’t write it! Jay McInerney did!” So I owe an apology to Bret Easton Ellis. Although it’s really his own fault: all of them–Ellis, McInerney, Tama Janowitz–they all pretty much wrote the same novel, didn’t they? Not that I haven’t enjoyed them. And it’s not any different than what I’ll say in another five years about all those authors who wrote that collective Bridget Jones’s Diary knock-off.
Where to Find Me
Where to Find Me
