An Open Letter to Oprah Winfrey, Re: Book Club

Dear Oprah,

Please stop it.

Now when I recommed Jeffrey Eugenides's Middlesex to people as one of my favorite coming-of-age novels of all time, they're going to be like, Gag, wasn't that shit on Oprah? Soon you'll put your Oprah Seal of Approval on all the new book pressings. I'll walk into the bookstore and I'll see it. I'll feel depressed. I can't help it. Listen, before you start talking about the literary version of "scene cred," and how lame it is, let me cut you off right now. I really could care less about loving a book that isn't cool to love because you love it and you make America love it. Srsly. And, I'm really happy for Jeffrey Eugenides because I think he's an incredible talent. I adore all his work.

It's just that you have this way of popularizing things and discussing them in a manner that takes away the spark of what made me first fall for it. Does that make sense?

I don't know what it is with you. Or with me. I'm double-talking. You see how you affect people? Damn you, Winfrey!!

No. Ok. I'm not angry. I just feel this weird resentment. What you're doing is good because it will expose people to another wonderful novel. Although I can't imagine what Middle American Housewives will think of a book that is basically about a transgendered teenager who first becomes a lesbian and then becomes a boy. Cal is amazing, and I don't want anyone to hate him. They might, and they can, but I don't want them to.

I'm worried about that.

I don't know what else to say. It's not like you can stop. I just really don't like you right now.

Stop screaming so loud when you announce your guests's names because it's really annoying,

P.S. Can I have a car?

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