A nearby community woman was in a stand-off with police. It was a huge local story. Naturally, when the dust settled, she threatened to write a book detailing her harrowing adventures. To ash’s knowledge, she never did.
April 29, 1998
Tentatively announced a few months ago and now all but confirmed: Shirley Allen is an author. Of course, someone else will do the actual writing, including editing, cohesive formatting, correcting grammar, and negotiating with the publisher. Let her share of the proceeds be just enough to pay off her outstanding legal/medical expenses.
Paula Jones signed autographs at the president’s dinner. Many people actually requested one. At least some of these people are no doubt more famous than she is – not at this particular juncture in history perhaps, just in an ultimate sense. At some point Jones will write a book – “as told to,” of course – which will sell considerably more copies than Shirley Allen’s.
The cable networks have practically sprouted discussion shows featuring commentators with a variety of views. While Keith Olbermann and Chris Matthews are just hitting their stride, Geraldo Rivera and Charles Grodin (the naïve Everyman) have had their turns and should exit gracefully. What I would like to see is a show on which obscure, ordinary people get to talk about whatever they like for exactly 15 minutes. It would be hosted by Larry King, who would not get to ask them questions. Andy Warhol, wherever he is, would be watching.