Some things can be carried a bit too far

Mark Bazer is mad as hell and he can’t take it anymore. He’s decided to go with the open letter option, bringing his gripes to the masses. Why? Because he wants a paperback copy of THE DA VINCI CODE, dammit:

Dear Mr. Rubin,

Saw that story you planted in The New York Times the other day in hopes of finally making me break. No dice. You should know me better by now. If I’ve written you once, I’ve written you – not counting this letter – 28 times, and has my message ever changed, my resolve ever wavered?

It’s about time, pal, you get it through that thick skull of yours: I, Mark Bazer, am not buying “The Da Vinci Code” in hardcover.

For over two years since the book was published – two years, two months, 25 days, three hours and 19 seconds, to be exact – you’ve been snatching $25 from one sap after another. And who knows how many pre-ordered the book from Amazon before its publication date? (Well, Amazon probably knows, but who else does?)

Yes, “The Da Vinci Code” has, no doubt, made you a wealthy man. Heck, I bet you’re counting your riches right now behind your mahogany desk in that giant, soulless Manhattan office you had me “escorted” out of last fall.

But what, pray tell, are money, a nice desk and a security guard with knowledge of the sleeper hold when you feel so hollow and incomplete inside? What’s it like, I wonder, to have an otherwise brilliant career in publishing marred by the fact that I, Mark Bazer, refuse to hand over an Andrew Jackson and an Abraham Lincoln for your precious book, or to pay for it by check, credit card or money order?

And if, like me, you’re wondering why he didn’t just take the damn thing out of the library, Bazer has an answer:

all jokes aside, I’ll have you know I would never borrow "The Da Vinci Code" hardcover from the library, even if the copy at my local branch didn’t have an apricot marmalade stain on the top-right corner of page 143. Nor would I buy it with the list price reduced by 60 percent at one of those gigantic bookstores that apparently think if they can lure me in with their sales, I’ll also purchase the 20-volume Oxford English Dictionary.

Why? Well, it’d go against one of the two rules by which my mother taught me to live life: Always Wait for the Paperback. (The other rule, in case you’re curious, is: If There’s Ever a TV Channel Called E!, Ignore It.) So I’m not about to sacrifice my principles and disappoint my mother now because of one lousy book that, from what I can tell from reading over the shoulders of people on the subway, is full of holes!

The thing is, why can’t people write open letters to publishers about books that never get a paperback deal in the first place?

(link from http://www.bookslut.com/blog)