So many of you have forwarded me the articles regarding author Jessica Blair, who is really an 89 year old gentleman named Bill Spence:
The grandfather from Ampleforth, North Yorkshire, was told his books would need to be printed under a feminine moniker if he wanted them to sell – and so his pseudonym Jessica Blair was born.
Bill, 89, has so far written 22 romance novels under the female pen name since his first was published in 1993, with his latest, Silence of the Snow, due out this week.
I love how happy he is, and cheers to him on his success. This guy looks charming and I bet he'd be rolling fun to have a beer with.
But as CC pointed out, when she forwarded me the link to the story, have a look at his upcoming book:
To quote CC, “What on earth is she thinking in that picture?! I'm thinking she's thinking, 'Whatevs, Can we just get this over with?'“
I think we need to caption her. What do you think? OF COURSE, WE DO.
Bring your best saucy creativity and caption that cover – and for extra ?! have a look at the summary copy, which is completely confusing.
Leave your caption in the comments below. I'll pick the winners on Friday 22 February. Feel free to use the “like” button to try to sway my selection.
The winner will receive a $25 gift card to the bookstore of his or her choice, and the people's ovation and fame forever. Standard disclaimers apply: I'm not being compensated for this giveaway, except for the the slight case of hair envy I harbor now that I've seen that hairstyle. Void where prohibited. Open to international residents were permissable by applicable law. Must be over 18 and wearing corduroy to win. Everyone must love corduroy. The sound it makes was the inspiration for dubstep.
So, what's she thinking? Share! Caption that cover!
“No, Sue, I don’t want to ‘try with new things while the boys are away.’
While she was waiting for the cover artists to invent googly eyes so she could roll them at someone, it began to snow. And then she started to get REALLY annoyed…
Excuse me, but silence ISN’T golden. Gold is golden. Please use some to update my wardrobe.
If you make one more crack about yellow snow.
You want silence? I’ll give you silence…
“I’m envisaging an outcome all right. Let me get you a towel.”
“I don’t need this sh*t! I’m Kristen Stewart’s long lost twin!”
I think those are corderoy breeches, rather than a corderoy skirt, and she may well be a land girl (wartime replacement for conscripted male farm worker). And in Yorkshire. In which case –
“There’s no point you trying that again. The thermal underwear is sewn on, thank you very much, and it’s staying sewn on until April.”
I coulda had a V8!
Jessica Blair is the eternal Girl Scout, but with all this silence and snow—cookie sales are going to be dismal.
“Fuck off, Mr. Cullen.”
Ya me and Kate Upton supermodels in the snow. Can I pleeze get some hot lemon water.
Seriously? I get widowed HOW many times in this book, and only one decent lay?
I was promised mullets and man titty. I’m not moving from this spot until I get them.
“Pssh! World Wars? Ain’t got time for that shit..”
Why didn’t you order the crossbow and catsuit like I asked? I’ve been doing yoga and I even had those three vertebrae removed. There’s no way Jim C. Hines is going to notice us now!
Okay, you say your d*ck is weeping with joy at seeing me. Sounds like an STD to me!
I thought this was a Babysitter’s Club novel.
You want to put what where? I don’t think so.
The book rests on the uni-boob.
No, Grandpa, I don’t really think pink hair is truly _you_, even though it’s Valentine’s Day!
“Bring it, bee-yotch.”
“Has anyone seen my sense of taste? I seem to have misplaced it.”
“I know I told you I would sleep with you if it snowed in July. I lied. Drop Dead.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, this *is* what I’m wearing to dinner. Why do you ask?”
“I am NOT wearing a Tina Fey costume! This is Rachel Dratch,update your mainstream!”
“Oh, NOW what?” is my thought on looking at that expression. She looks like a woman who’s seen one too many time travelers/vampire princes/goblin kings—all of whom promptly forget their Absolutely Vital Mission when they take once glance at Silent Snow there….
“Are you seriously trying to pull that alpha bullshit on me?”
“…and I’m not even Irish!!”
C’mon, Mom, chillax..
You bloody little wanker – you’re actually giving me the “It’s not you, it’s me” speech?
Via my husband-
Ten years i would have had a half-naked pirate to keep me warm; all i get is ‘sensible clothes’. So cheated 🙁
Ok look, I know there’s snow in the title but what’s the deal with this outfit, old man? Why can’t I wear some pretty silky thing like all the other heroines? Why can’t I just lounge across a bearskin rug in front of a fireplace beneath some brawny shirtless hunk? I’m gonna be a laughingstock! Where’s MY man nipples?!
That title just cemented Simon and Garfunkel’s line “a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow” in my head, which led to the caption:
“I am a rock. I am an island. Prepare to feel my pain.”
Snow? THIS only qualifies as “snow” in Atlanta! You need to be silent about it because you’re embarrassed that you can’t drive worth crap in it! Come on up to Montana, I’ll SHOW you “snow.”
This is my, “I just woke up from eating a cursed apple and found out Prince Charming is a snarky twelve year old wannabe with horn rimmed glasses and a dice set for dungeons and dragons.”
“Didn’t you know that you’re supposed to say no when I ask you if my butt looks fat in this skirt?”
Why aren’t my nipples pebbling? Ain’t nobody got time for that!
A haiku:
silence of the snow
tell me my dear jessica
has the screaming stopped?
After the loss of her dwarfs, Snow White could not even whistle while she worked.