Hey, wasn't it kooky and wild when A.J. Jacobs wrote a book about the year he spent reading the entire Encyclopedia Brittanica? Or when Maria Dahvana Headley chronicled the wacky year she spent saying "yes" to everyone who asked her out on a date? Or when that 'No Impact' guy and his wife decided to go a year without toilet paper and spices so that he'd be able to sell a book about it? If your answers are "kinda," "maybe" and "definitely not," you'll be extra-psyched about the latest would-be entry into this burgeoning category: a book proposal by a Denver Post reporter (pictured) who had sex with his wife every day for 100 days.
"We did it on top of a mountain. During the porn industry's annual flesh circus in Las Vegas. In a yoga ashram, and in a remote yurt. In an ostentatious hotel, a cheap motel, and a Very Victorian bed-and-breakfast in Wyoming in the dead of winter. In our basement ..." Scintillating!
"The book's simultaneously out for film consideration. Is this a movie? We could see Judd Apatow snapping this up," says New York mag's Vulture. Um, no? No! We think (hope) that even Simon Spotlight or Kensington will not be desperate enough to buy this book. The whole "Set Time Period During Which I Tried To Make Myself A More Interesting Or More Debilitated Person" thing is over, or should be. Editors, take a damn stand! Or continue to receive proposals for "My Month Of Eating Nothing But Salad Dressing" indefinitely, your call.