The Princess Diaries

http://fifthcircle.net/blog/index.php ^ | 01.31.05 | Chris Haire

[Chris Haire]

When did the bestseller become a confessional booth and the nation's readers say-two-Hail-Marys-and-call-me-in-the-morning priests, the kind of holy men whose primary advice to their flocks is "Get Tested."

Maybe it all started with Elizabeth Wurtzel's trustafarian, bright-lights-big-city, ritalin-and-regrets-fueled "Prozac Nation." Maybe it started with the rise of Oprah and Montel and Rickie Lake. Mabye "Sex in the City" is to blame. Who knows. But enough is enough.

For years, the bloated airport-layover, soon-to-be-a-major-motion-picture novel has been pushing more literary and creative fare out of book stores, but now we have to contend with self-serving, I'm-a-bad-girl-so-spank-me-daddy memoirs which tease far more than they shock. By and large these are girls who only occassionally go wild and then only wallow in the pig sty if they have plently of anti-bacterial soap on hand.

Recently, we've had to contend with Toni Bentley's ode to anal sex, "Surrender," Melissa P.'s " 100 Lashes of the Brush before Bed" and Koren Zailckas' "Smashed." It seems the public just can't get enough of these teen diary testimonials. At least the Paris Hilton confessional is selling poorly.

The girls aren't the only ones to blame for the new suck-it-spread-it-and-write-about-it trend. There are plenty of guys who are willing to tap into this lucrative genre. Recent confessional bestsellers include J.L. King's "On the Down Low" and Brad Land's "Goat."

Even new journalism guru Tom Wolfe has tackled the teen girl tell-all with "I Am Charlotte Simmons."

Chris Haire