If you have pictures, gossip, or stories about an author, send them my way and I’ll make them public. Allow me to turn to Sophie Kinsella’s blog for an example of what I’m NOT looking for:

“Now, you know me. ‘Dreaded’ and ’shopping’ don’t often make it into the same sentence. But what is it about swimwear shops? I’m not sure if it’s the lighting in the changing rooms (blue-grey), or the assistants (size zero, permatanned), or the fact that you’re struggling out of your winter woollies into a bikini and have never felt less beach-ready in your life… but it’s rarely a great experience. Sometimes it’s a terrible experience. Sometimes it’s a soul-scarring-years-of-therapy experience (yes, YOU, green tankini that looked so great on the mannequin).”

I’m pretty sure that passages like this one are the reason that nobody reads anymore. If you need therapy because you don’t like how you look in a swimsuit, please do the rest of us a favor and skip the therapy. Hopefully you’ll drive yourself crazy enough that you’ll never produce another publishable word. That would be just heavenly.

And another thing: That turned around picture you had on your first book was great. That picture plus a lobotomy MIGHT have made me a fan. Then you went and started putting your face on the back cover. Bad idea. Your homely visage zaps every ounce of fashionista credibility you might have had.

Actually, pretty much anything related to chick lit is gonna be a no-go here. Unless there’s a picture somewhere of Jennifer Weiner getting plugged airtight by a group of tatooed ex-cons, I don’t want to hear about it.

So what AM I looking for? Well, James Frey would have been great, if he had been telling the truth. I like dangerous and unpredictable behavior. Plagiarists make me sick, and plagiarizing chick lit authors are especially deplorable, so do not send me anything about the Indian she-whose-name-we-shall-not-even-mention. I want pictures of authors who look high/drunk/dead at their signings…anything involving nudity, felony, or questionable taste. Good authors doing stupid things. If you can find Dan Brown buying a pregnancy test, or maybe a nice JK Rowling nip slip, I’ll take that, too. Bonus points if they’re together. And if you find Jonathan Safron Foer lying bruised and beaten in a gutter…well, I didn’t put you up to doing it or anything, but my inbox welcomes your correspondence.