A disturbing trend is popping up in bookstores across America. It is something that has bothered me for some time, and being the formerly enormous bookworm that I am (God, I was such the sad sight in the seventh grade), I feel an obligation towards tomorrow's semi-literate generation to address this matter. The "quality" young-adult novels I obsessed over during the early 90s are on the verge of extinction. The books my peers and I enjoyed not so long ago are hardly visible among the shelves of every Barnes & Borders throughout the land. No longer do the names Francine Pascal, Christopher Pike or R.L. Stine grace the uncracked spines of paperbacks. Instead, oversized softcovers with increasingly large fonts and flashy images of teen fashionistas, mystical creatures, and drugged-out deviants are taking over the reading sections that used to be found near the "baby" books. It seems as if the retailers want to avoid insulting their young readers by forcing
Showing posts from September, 2006
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While I stood next to a giggly Kathy Griffin and shook hands with Lance Bass and his reality-TV leftover of a boyfriend, I spotted Howie D. of the Backstreet Boys getting ready in his VIP booth for the birthday cake that was being carried across the dancefloor where Nicole Ritchie's boyfriend spun some beats. Kevin, AJ, Nick and the younger Carter, Aaron, started singing "Happy Birthday," the rest of the club chiming in over the throbbing bass. Rewind for a minute: My friend Rex invited me to be his plus one at the Dorough Lupus Foundation party at LAX, the Hollywood "club of the minute." His publicist, the energetic Mina, got us past the VIP line and slapped some bracelets on us for the open bar. Several people stopped Rex as we inched our way through poseurs and pee-ons, shouting out "Lloyd! We love you, man!" Needless to say, those toting their miniscule digicams just had to take pics with him, proof that they got to meet one of the stars of "