Guest Blogger: Alison Gaylin

The Working Stiffs are excited to welcome Alison Gaylin, author of TRASHED, as our guest blogger. Alison is a journalist who has covered the arts and entertainment for more than fifteen years. Her first novel, HIDE YOUR EYES, debuted in March, 2005 with nearly a quarter of a million copies in print and was nominated for the prestigious Edgar Award for a first novel. The sequel, YOU KILL ME, was published in 2006 to rave reviews. Find out more about Alison at her website.

Recently, I was speaking to a library book club about my new book TRASHED. They were a very intelligent group of women, and they’d all read the book – about a young supermarket tabloid reporter who uncovers a grisly series of Hollywood murders. I was told they really enjoyed it, and they had a lot of questions for me -- so I kept the talk pretty brief, then asked if there was anything they wanted to know.

Several hands went up. Yay! They must be really interested in the book, I thought… until I called on one of the women who asked, “What’s the deal with Tom Cruise?”

Pretty much all the questions were like that: “You think Lindsay will stay sober?” “Is it true that Brad still talks to Jen?” “What’s the deal with Pamela Anderson marrying the sex tape guy?” until the conversation devolved into a discussion of Pamela’s breasts, and why on earth do so many women in Hollywood get boob jobs when they look just fine to begin with… Meanwhile, I’m thinking, “Hmmm… I wonder if Michael Connelly ever had to field boob job questions.”

But this is what I get for having a day job at a celebrity gossip magazine.

Everybody says they couldn’t care less what’s been going on in the lives of Britney, Lindsay, Brad and Angelina, but secretly they do. They really, really do. It’s why In Touch, where I serve as articles editor, has a circulation of over a million. It’s why, when I tell people what pays my health insurance, the fact I write crime fiction is comparatively boring – even if it is crime fiction about celebrities.

The interesting thing is, the stars that sell the most In Touch covers – the ones people want to know the most about – they’re usually not the ones who are topping the box office charts (Brad Pitt accepted) or winning Grammys or Academy Awards. The celebrities who sell magazines are the ones who behave badly – who drink too much or cheat on their wives or drive on the wrong side of the freeway at three in the morning. The ones who prove that, no matter how great you look or how much money you have, you can screw things up just as royally as the next guy.

We used to put celebrities on pedestals – they were larger-than-life creatures we fantasized about dating or being. Now, they’re under microscopes – I can’t recall the last time we ran a flattering picture of Britney Spears, never mind those magazines that will take a telephoto lens to some poor actress’s butt and put the photo on a cover that reads, CELULITE HALL OF SHAME! Celebrities seem to exist to make us feel better about ourselves. (Hey, so I lost my job and my house has plummeted in value -- at least that isn’t my ass on the cover of the Enquirer!)

Funny, when I was a kid, I used to daydream about being a movie star – walking the red carpet at a glamorous premiere, fans screaming my name, thousands of flashbulbs popping. But if things keep going the way they are, I doubt my six-year-old daughter will dream similarly. These days, she wants to be a teacher because “it’s always someone’s birthday, so teachers get to have cupcakes almost all the time.”

Now that is something to daydream about….

PS. I wouldn’t be a very good gossip writer if I didn’t leave you with a blind item, so here goes: This hunky star’s killer smell made more of a lasting impression than his killer smile – when, during a wild party weekend, he forgot to bathe or change clothes for days. Can anybody guess who?