Living

How to approach Snooki's upcoming novel

Before I reveal the topic of this week’s column, I want you to move away from all sharp items and sources of fire.

Done? Good.

Here goes: “Jersey Shore” cast member Snooki is writing a novel.

As in, the same Snooki widely known for a perplexing hair pouf. The same Snooki who considered President Obama’s tanning tax a personal offense.

The same Snooki who once said she’s only read two books in her entire life: “Twilight” and “Dear John.”

The news surfaced just a few days ago, but literary enthusiasts have likely already sought comfort in sad music and support groups.

I don’t blame them. Snooki’s new role as author is tough to grasp. So much, in fact, that it requires a five-step process.

Avoidance

You dismiss the news as merely another celebrity’s failed venture into the literary world. When your favorite Internet blog displays a photo of Snooki in her bedazzled sunglasses, you close your browser abruptly.

After all, this is just another passing trend.

Contemplation

Wait, maybe Snooki’s novel isn’t a passing trend. Maybe the “Jersey Shore” star is actually a reincarnated Ernest Hemingway, disguised as an orange female with an affinity for hot tubs and fist pumping.

Maybe Snooki’s novel will become the greatest book ever written — a creation so spectacular that all other art forms crumble from intimidation.

Rage

The prospect alone makes you wonder why your drafted novel will never reach Snooki’s level of fame. The late nights of typing and editing suddenly seem worthless. It’s just not fair.

You buy countless Bumpits in hopes of achieving Snooki’s level of success, but only end up with a massive hair knot and an uncontrolled temper.

Hibernation

It’s all too much.

Amid the consuming swirl of emotions, you lock yourself in a dark room without access to gossip magazines or new episodes of “Jersey Shore.”

You wear earphones to block out any references to gym, tan and laundry. Sadly, it’s your only form of life satisfaction.

Acceptance

Soon, the intrigue resurfaces. You have an urge to read Snooki’s book — even if it’s only to see if she offers a Bumpit how-to manual.

You accept the fact that her literary prowess will always exceed your humble aspirations.

But at least you don’t have to swim in the same hot tub.

Sonya Sorich, reporter, can be reached at ssorich@ledger-enquirer.com or 706-571-8516.

  Comments