I'm calling this for a thread title...
Jack Monroe #335 Boob, I guess
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Reminds me of Adrian Mole’s (another ref) mother naming her autobiography ‘A Girl Named tit’.
I could think of many references to tit and Jack that could be cobbled together for the title of her misery meemoir, but don’t want to give her ideas.
Different publishers, different contracts. Generally ok unless specific clause saying not to share. Some may have this in the contract saying that it’s ok to share excerpts as part of the author’s’ responsibility to promote the book.
Yeah, I absolutely do. She has an agent and a publisher. I don’t think she’s writing it on spec, I think it’s been commissioned. I think, as she says it contains “real people” it might be a misery compilation book, with her doing the beginning and end or introducing the stories. There’s a definitely a market for it
ETA. If I’m wrong, I’ll buy you all a pumble
I think she has a 3 book deal, but the content of the 3 books is ever-shifting, so this particular book hasn't been commissioned specifically, it's just Jack throwing stuff at the wall and seeing what sticks. Carole seems to me to be supremely unqualified to edit a scathing political analysis which will be full of disinformation.
I was thinking about this book the other day! Wondering what type of person actually wanted to read misery memoirs. I settled on “maudlin and emotionally incontinent”. The worst thing about Jack’s readership is that they’re so thick they think it’s searing political analysis when really it’s just the same pornographic rendering of despair with added “but David Cameron”.
Sorry I know we are currently having a misery morning but lads…two tree surgeons just turned up across the road 
Stuff like this just reminds me of how up its own backside the UK publishing industry is. An industry that can publish Laurie Penny and (potentially) Jack Monroe and think it's sophisticated, class conscious commentary is an industry hopelessly trapped at an Islington dinner party with no hope of escape like Hotel California.
Whilst I'm loving the fact that Black women are finally being published in real numbers with Black women-centred, high quality fiction (although the US is still miles ahead here), UK publishing really lost working class voices, hasn't had it since Shelagh Delaney and Alan Sillitoe to my mind. Irvine Welsh doesn't count he was a middle class student who dabbled with heroine and met some WC addicts once, made bank off them and been dining off it ever since. He's got all the right woke opinions now so as not to lose his placed in publishing's inner circle.
The fact that any publisher could contemplate putting out a book of political commentary (i use the term loosely) by Jack Monroe says something extremely depressing about our publishing industry.
Whilst I'm loving the fact that Black women are finally being published in real numbers with Black women-centred, high quality fiction (although the US is still miles ahead here), UK publishing really lost working class voices, hasn't had it since Shelagh Delaney and Alan Sillitoe to my mind. Irvine Welsh doesn't count he was a middle class student who dabbled with heroine and met some WC addicts once, made bank off them and been dining off it ever since. He's got all the right woke opinions now so as not to lose his placed in publishing's inner circle.
The fact that any publisher could contemplate putting out a book of political commentary (i use the term loosely) by Jack Monroe says something extremely depressing about our publishing industry.
Who? Why?
Less than a week ago Jack was sorting the starfuckers wheat from the ceramicists chaff and yet here we are today, making coin off other peoples misery.
jacks a miseryfucker.
jacks a miseryfucker.
I won't read anything with a pastel cover or which is termed chick lit. It offends my retinas. Golden age crime for me.... I do race through the written versions of Midsomer style crime but they are a distraction with tea and toast .
People have always been morbidly fascinated with the horror and tragedy that's close to home. It's in us. I read somewhere that women especially read misery lit, torture crime, serial killer biographies (my mother certainly does) as a kind of psychological priming for the violence that could visit us at any moment. Think of the penny dreadfuls that were sold all over the country about Jack the Ripper (him again) while he was still at large. Our Jack the ripper-offer is producing a similar ghoulish product, except she really believes she's a genius and a gifted writer doing something of great social import. She's a weird, weird fucker.
lol
I didn't know that about Irvine Welsh but it explains a lot. Sakes.
Jack says it best, when she says nothing at all
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Agreed. Pre-medication I had never once edited a piece of work because I was always writing it on a wave of deadline fear and pressing submit with nary a backwards glance. Jack’s writing all screams of not being looked over even once: jam-packed with adverbs and odd constructions and hyperbole.
Since I’ve been medicated my writing is so different and so much better* but the process is tortuous. It’s actively painful for an ADHD brain tbh. There is absolutely no way that Jack can pull herself together to edit her work when she has zero accountability from her editors, publishers or readership. But like someone else said she’s never written about a serious topic yet. She’ll get eaten alive by reviewers.
*not here, which is still stream of consciousness bollocks.
Is The Hunger Names the actual title of the book and not a working title? Not that it would make it any better as it’s already out there in use but I just can’t believe that’s the one they’re going with. I naively thought those sorts of books were over 
This is the only reason she’s so bothered by him
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