Responses to Salon's Disneyfication article are flowing in.
Some are sympathetic, many are critical, and with valid points: the conflation of "Disney" with abridgement, the personalized pop psychology interpretation of The Wind in the Willows (which did nothing to promote the argument), landing the responsibility for these literay perversions with corporate America rather than with parents, librarians, funding programs, etc.
But I still hate Disney.
Also, Salon has published one last letter regarding the Midlist Author's Lament, a very hot topic on the blog circuit of late. The original article spawned many angry letters, and then more letters, mostly accusing the author of whining and having unrealistic expectations from the publishing industry and the public. Poor anonymous woman has trouble getting huge advances on her books when they're not selling all that well, and is having some trouble living exclusively from the proceeds of her writing.
This last letter is from Jacquelyn Mitchard, author of the Oprah Book Club bestseller The Deep End of the Ocean. I never read it, never will. Mitchard misses the point about writing for money: while Mitchard continues to write journalism and lectures, Jane Austen Doe suggested such writing was beneath her. Salon readers felt Doe should get a day job, lest the purity of the literature she produces be sullied with talk of bottom lines.
While it is in poor taste to bite the hand that (literally) feeds you, I know that Ms. Doe's woes often are experienced by other writers, and I sympathize.
She must mean "literally" figuratively here. I don't know what the point of her letter is, and I won't be reading her novels.