Sometimes I’m jealous of other writers’ success. There, I said it.
When I hear about another sale, especially for big numbers, there’s a little piece of me inside that just wants to whine like a child who didn’t get a piece of the pie. And I’m sure I’m not the only one to have such feelings, but we work hard to keep those childish impulses at bay and even sincerely help someone celebrate good news, whether it be a big sale or winning a prestigious prize or maybe even getting a movie deal.
However, I refuse to celebrate the huge sales and movie deal that Tucker Max received for I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, which has been on the New York Times best seller list for over 100 weeks.
If you are like me, you may never have heard of Tucker Max. He is a young man who started writing a blog that centered around bodily functions, drinking, and womanizing and it quickly had a large following. That led to his book and now a movie.
I hadn’t heard of him until I read a recent column in the Dallas Morning News by Jaclyn Friedman, a writer and activist. She took him to task for promoting a sexual philosophy where women are “insulted, tricked, coerced, traded, and then discarded.”
What Jaclyn found even more alarming and disgusting was the fact that as Max tours the country visiting colleges and other venues, over half of the people who show up to hear him speak are women. And these women apparently adore him. They will also do some of the most disgusting things to gain his attention, and many of them are apparently willing to sleep with him. One woman did, and then “tattooed an explicit sentence commemorating the event just below her hip bone, thus earning the Holy Grail of any Maxite; an original Tucker Max blog entry featuring her.”
I’m sorry Max. While I can wipe off the green and celebrate the success of the Harry Potter series, and even give James Patterson his due, I refuse to support your success. I’m not sure I even want to call you a fellow writer.