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I’m Just Jealous of J.K. Rowling
Because I am an untalented, unsuccessful, poor writer
I believe J.K. Rowling has been as successful as she has been because in this timeline, in the Harry Potter books, she stumbled into a perfect fit between the patriarchal powers-that-be and their tastes along with the tastes and interests of millions upon millions of children around the world and their parents. The Harry Potter books got children to read (worldwide) and activated the imaginations of millions upon millions of adoring fans.
And it’s all cooled a bit. Now it’s Butterbeer (“less sweet than commercial soda”), Universal rides, and endless sequels, prequels, one-offs, and oh, by the way, did you know that “Robert Galbraith” the mystery writer was also J.K.Rowling? Buy buy buy buy mo mo mo money …
Over the past two decades, Rowling has evolved from a charming inspiration for children’s imaginations into an arrogant, supremely self-centered, botoxed and facelifted figure — a champion of transphobia and catty mean girl Twitter addict who has written endless, unfocused mystery novels —
Well, here we are.
And if I say a thing about this lady who, once upon a time, I defended against false and defamatory charges made by the fat, disgusting, arrogant Western Canon critic Harold Bloom —
