This book, The Lost Child, is being released earlier than expected in England to capitalize on all the bad publicity its author Julie Myerson has received. She’s being blasted for exposing the true tale of how she had to kick her son out of the house for smoking pot. Obviously, this was a trauma for her family, as was the revelation that she’d been writing an anonymous column in the Guardian complaining about how hard it was to raise teenagers. Her son Jake, who it seems is actually addicted to a kind of incapacitating form of cannibus, has been yelling about how his mother is the addict–addicted to pillaging her family for writing material.
So Bloomsbury has quickly accelerated the release so it can make more money. Obviously if all the critics are calling the book a disgrace to motherhood and saying it never should have been written, everyone will want to buy it, right? In other words, the publishing industry has now fully accepted its status as a desperate vulture ready to swoop down on any, and every, bloody carcass.
Personally, I’ve often felt that my mother also liked to swipe down on any bloody carcass she could find. “Your room isn’t clean!” “Your hair is in your face” “Do you know that your voice goes up a decibel whenever you’re near a boy? Control yourself!” But in the past two days, I’ve realized I don’t know how good I have it.
The first thing that made me realize I was lucky was spending a lot of time with my grandmother. I’ve visited her twice in the past two days because she has moved in with my mom and is rehabbing due to ankle surgery. She has accused me of not knowing how to make coffee, not knowing how to scramble eggs and not being able to remember the phrase “vanilla frozen yogurt” in anticipation of a trip to the grocery store. (I proved her wrong on all these counts.) My mom came home for 5 mins and whispered, “And you thought you had it bad!” I have to agree.
Also, my mother has never written a book exposing my problems with addiction (“We knew it was time to kick her out of the house when she couldn’t stop Stumbling after she hit 6,000 sites…She begged for forgiveness and we took back…only to find her twittering again within two days.”) Mom, thanks. You are awesome for many reasons, certainly not excluding the fact that you let me pillage YOUR life for writing material and only complained about it a handful of times.
My dad, who’s 18th birthday is today, is also awesome in a way that is connected to this sad story. You see when my dad was in high school, he also smoked…camel lights. He decided that honesty was the best policy (he probably decided this while smoking a camel light) and decided to go to his parents and tell them about his interest in..nicotine.
Their response was to tell him that he had two options: quit, or get out of the house for good. His response was to calmly pack up and move to his friend’s house (mom of GoGoZoe) for two weeks until he revised his honestly policy and came home a quitter.
If you’re thinking, RB is kind of a weirdo hypocrite because she’s embarrassing her family for cheap writing material… Uh, yeah. But frequent posts boost your Alexa ranking! And I inherited my vulture instincts..