On Wednesday, I contacted Bella Escritor and requested an interview. I told her that I was interested in both the content in her book and in asking her some of the questions that have been raised about its legitimacy. I promised her that it would not be an ambush, and I meant it. She agreed, and we set a time to speak at 9 a.m. yesterday.
While I was conversing with her, I wrote a post about the book’s existence, cited Jimmy Kempski’s concerns about its legitimacy, made a joke or two, and commented on the book’s ludicrous shipping price and sketchy-looking website.
I then received this email from Escritor:
Better yet, just had a huge smile on my face while reading your article online. Maybe you should do a little more homework and actually “read” the book before requesting an interview. Maybe once your are fully informed, we can talk. Until then, take care.
I responded, apologizing for what was admittedly an unfair joke about her pen name sounding like Ass Critter. I took it back. Taksies backsies. I talked Escritor off the ledge, too, and while she wouldn’t agree to an audio interview, she did send me a draft of the book in PDF form and said that she would consider an interview if I gave it a fair review.
I’m not in the book review business, nor did I have the time or want to read 153 pages, but I did spend a couple hours skimming the text yesterday, looking for the best parts and also trying to corroborate some details. In the ensuing post, I noted the reasons for skeptism, but also said that certain details checked out. In other words: I lent a tinge of credibility to her tale. I mentioned that it was a fairly easy read. I provided a link to purchase a copy. And I excerpted (with Escritor’s permission) the parts that I thought you, the reader, would find interesting.
Those were the sex parts.
Escritor no like:
hi. you did your story. any other use of the materials provided to you for any future stories are unapproved. You had my permission for that one story only.
And then on the Twitters:
Now look, I hate it when I have to give strippers marketing lessons, but it seems I have no choice here.
Let some singles linger on the stage before picking them up with your labia, it encourages people to throw more. You’re selling a book, a book that you wrote trying to capitalize on the success of someone for whom you claim to care. In that book, you wrote very lurid, explicit, totally unnecessary things about your time together. Those things were merely a fraction of the whole, but undoubtedly the most entertaining and ridiculous parts. A media outlet (let’s put big quotes around that) uses those excerpts with permission, and consequently, teases readers, who now, with interest piqued, may want to read more about a local athlete’s affair… in your book. They don’t care about a stripper’s love for a convict. Or a football player who fell in love with a stripper. They care about the sex and the trash-talking. And the Chick-fil-A biscuits. Those are the best excerpts, and the ones you should encourage more outlets to use.