I think I may have posted the whole letter when you first left Movieline, but I’ll bust a repost, as this bit made me think of the only piece of hate mail I’ve ever written in my life. Here’s the relevant paragraph, the last one of the letter:
“In closing, I’d wish you luck in your quest to become the retarded bastard child of Entertainment Weekly and People, but for my very real fear that your remaining staff lacks the acumen to identify sarcasm.”
You know, Oilver Stone complained about me in person? I was so thrilled. I’d written about a baby video I watched with an actual baby, and said, “she reacted to it much the way I react to Oliver Stone films—she cried for awhile and then fell asleep.” Hee!
As for other writing . . . I’m working 9-5 as a copy editor, and writing my books, so I don’t know that I’d really have time and energy to do a regular column as well (I did try Premiere and EW; I wonder if Salon pays enough to make it worthwhile?).
Darn. I too was expecting to read of the Dwamatic Demise of Pwincess Pwecious. I swear, it’s getting to the point where Eve’s enemies list is beginning to rival Nixon’s.
(not adding fuel to the fire by mentioning that the reviewer in my local paper kinda sorta panned Eve’s latest book…)