BREAKFAST AT [sic]ANY'S
Dear Mr. Ames,
About your "clans" article. It's "Parcells'". Good article.
Dear Ms. Tiffany, What's with the populist pedanticism? Are you one of these "I'm into sports as well as serious intellekshual stuff cuz I like hanging out with guys more than girls" type grrls? The type of girl who uses the word "girl" because you're not into being PC, because that's so lame? Is that the type of girl you are, Tiffany? Because if so, we'd like to watch DVDs with you sometime, and comment on them with you, and talk about them and laugh at ourselves while we do it.
A MILLION PIECES OF DELETED
Thanks for your honesty and commitment to the truth ["A Million Pieces of Shit" about James Frey]. OK. Here is a new twist for you.
I was in negotiations with Riverhead publishers for my novel, "[NAME DELETED--ED.]," which is a multicultural interweaving of fifteen stories that all occur on the same day in a Los Angeles neighborhood, all triggered by a bizarre episode. Most of these stories have been published in literary journals. All are copyrighted and used in my classes where I teach. [Wow, so you're the writer of "Crash"?--Ed.]
Well, after Riverhead dissed me because I wouldn't water it down, about a year, to be exact, I saw that Frey had signed with them and the description of the book was suspicially close to my book. Same premise, location and structure. Same homeless man. Same Mexican character. I have not seen the prose, but when you get a theme and it sounds like a happy version of my novel in stories... You have to be skeptical.
Frey got dumped by Riverhead, only to be resurrected by HarperCollins. Same premise; same book.
I've been told that I can sue against Frey's million dollar advance, but I don't want money. I spent ten years on my book, and I want it out there, in the form I wrote it. [Gosh, that's really impressive, your whole dedicated-to-his-art thing. So impressive that we want to help you on your path. How about giving us whatever money you still have left. Just, you know, to get the money off your hand. I mean cuz you're an artist and all, and money is just so...ew! It's so vulgar and not-artistic-like, you know?--Ed.]
I can't prove anything just yet, but we know what happened. Riverhead didn't like the fact that I had the guts to stick with my vision of the book (which was compared by university reviewers to Chaucer, Borges and Hawthorne, among others) and so it got kind of passed along...you know the story. [Moreover, though we can't prove it, we believe that the government is watching you. Or was watching you. Then they got too depressed, and one by one the FBI agents assigned to watch you had to turn to Paxil just to deal with the effects of watching a comically self-obsessed idiot like you.--Ed.]
As I say, I don't care about money. [Yes! Yes! So give us your money and just shut the fuck up!--Ed.] So I just took the plunge. My novel is out for FREE at www.[DELETED UNTIL YOU GIVE US YOUR UNWANTED MONEY].org which is my website. Anyone in the world can download it for free as a PDF. I'm also online as [DELETED UNTIL WE GET YOUR GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING MONEY, OKAY?!] on MySpace, and it's being shared there as well.
Steal my book. I don't care. [Uh, actually no one cares. No one wants to steal it, and you couldn't give it away even if...well, okay, if you pay us you can, but that's our final offer--Ed.]
If you can share the word with anyone, I'd be eternally grateful. You and I both can see that this is not an isolated incident.
I publish as [MORONIC NAME DELETED] and you can see on my website that I'm not some joker trying to cash in.
Thanks for your time.