One of the inevitable things about getting old is that everything I love disappears: department stores, bookstores, subway tokens, Campbell’s Green Pea soup, my being a size 4 . . . Now, the AP has announced that as of August 31, they are no longer generating book reviews (to appear in the newspapers that also no longer exist). “Unfortunately the audience for book reviews is relatively low and we can no longer sustain the time it takes to plan, coordinate, write and edit reviews,” says the AP, to which I reply with a ladylike, “nertz!” When I started writing—when knighthood was in flower—my books were reviewed in newspapers and magazines worldwide, and were displayed in bookstore windows. My last book? Despite my publisher’s best efforts, it was reviewed on a handful of blogs and and radio shows, of all things (right after Fibber McGee and Molly). Remember when all local TV stations had their own book, theater, and movie reviewers? Now, with the AP cutting us loose, we will have to resort to skywriters to get our books noticed. I hate this stupid century.
