About a month ago, Gary Shteyngart wrote an open letter to the New Yorker in which he announced an end to his frequent blurbing, with a few exceptions:
I will continue to blurb the following individuals: all former, present, and future students of mine at Columbia University; authors of my Random House editor, David Ebershoff; authors of my agent, Denise Shannon; my B.F.F.s; authors who can prove they own a long-haired dachshund and are taking good care of same; all authors with Ukrainian citizenship (out of sympathy for the sad new political realities); anyone who has held my hand while I’ve freaked out for some reason; anyone with the first name Daria or the last name Lipschitz.
Apparently, there are a few more exceptions to be added to the list. Last week he stopped by Late Night Basement in Brooklyn to promote Little Failure. He was asked for some on-the-spot blurbing for the “worst books ever written.” How could he refuse?
If you’re looking for some easy sharable content today, this should prompt some smiles.