Ouch… Just Deserts

It sounds like disgraced memoirist James Frey’s author mill may have had its days numbered.  The reviews for the first film adaptation of his mill’s first work are coming in awful.  Which is not surprising considering the book wasn’t particularly well-reviewed.

Is it wrong of me, as a writer, to hope Frey’s exploitative business plan goes up in flames?

If this movie tanks (which, with reviews this bad, there’s a substantially non-zero chance of happening) then there’s a chance that Frey just might have to close up shop.

That said, the American movie-going public has never been one to put much credence into the reviews of critics; even I find I can’t generally trust critical opinions.  Still, I find that life, and my time, are too short to waste consuming fiction that’s not enjoyable.  I suspect as I age I’ll grow ever more discerning in what I choose to spend time reading and watching…

So I won’t be reading this book nor seeing this movie; not just because I disapprove of James Frey or his business plan, but more broadly because I don’t have time to waste on it when there is so much else that I am excited about reading and watching.

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