Something tells me the rate hasn't increased since, but who can blame us? What with everything that's going on with Britney and Lindsay, not to mention Madonna and Brad and Angelina and all the pregnancies they've endured personally as well as the ones they've outsourced, who's got time for a 600-page novel?
I've got an idea, which is to make most of those tomes into 300 pagers so we can get the reading done and log back on to the Gawker and TMZ websites to find out what's really going on in the world.
You could start with all those books that have "and" in the title. William Faulkner's "The Sound," D.H. Lawrence's "Sons," Norman Mailer's "The Naked," Dostoevsky's "Crime," and Robert Louis Stevenson's "Dr. Jekyll"
OK, now that all the unnecessary verbiage has been hacked out and people are reading again, publishing houses could start to release titles that have been curtailed only slightly. A few contemporary classics come to mind: Joseph Heller's "Catch-21," George Orwell's "1983," and Kurt Vonnegut's "Slaughterhouse-Four." Among older titles, there's always Hawthorne's "The House of the Six Gables." To pull in younger readers who might worry that a book in the hip pocket will make their oversized jeans sag even farther, how about James Joyce's "A Portrait of the Artist as an Eighth Grader"?
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