Ann Coulter: "If Trump doesn't win, it's over. I'll be writing cookbooks and mysteries."
Look, I know as a librarian I shouldn't ban books, but I swear to the Old Gods and the New I ought to be able to maintain some standards, people. I don't wanna shelve those books if they ever see the light of day...
I've got a hard enough time living with myself while my library patrons request these Far Right titles on politics and current affairs. They have a right to read what they want, so that's how I rationalize it, and also why I make sure there's a balance on the shelves with sane moderate or Progressive Left works to at least provide a marketplace of diverse ideas.
But an Ann Coulter cookbook?!?! If the title's To Serve Man someone better sue her.
And if you've ever read Ann Coulter's political stuff - where liberals are evil, conservatives are touched by God, and she is the judge of all Earth - you might get a pretty good idea how an Ann Coulter mystery will read:
It's 1952 in Midvale (it's always 1952 in Midvale). The middle-aged widower sheriff overseeing this delightful small town is rocked by shocking news of a young happily married couple - they had just gotten hitched at the Baptist church just last week! - found murdered one morning. Struggling to make sense of the crime, the sheriff teams up with a thin stunningly beautiful blonde reporter to figure out the clues.
Using her detailed understanding of Randian Objectivism, the pair uncovers the murderer as a doctor of Middle Eastern origin who killed the couple because the wife refused to let him abort her baby. The doctor is also a prominent defender of the FDR-era New Deal, which makes the town's mayor - a weak yet politically ambitious Democrat who wants to prove himself to a stern father (retired war hero general that once saved MacArthur's life in the Philippines) who hopes his son could one day serve as governor - unwilling to press charges because it might start a race riot.
When the doctor threatens the life of the token African-American family in town, the sheriff bravely oversteps his authority, forms a posse with his now-girlfriend reporter, and raids the doctor's home to find a coven of Stalin-worshiping Communists about to kill a honest and unyielding US Senator who served as a tail-gunner during The War. There's a clean shootout where all the bad Commie characters die - the Randian reporter gets to sniper-shoot the lead Commie between the eyes - while the good guys don't even get splinters. The evil doctor is forced to make a public confession where he admits the errors of his baby-killing ways before he hangs himself, the town celebrates with a special election to vote out the craven politician to replace him with a well-meaning television actor, and the sheriff and reporter decide to get married and move to the Big City where the sheriff's Small-Town sensibilities as Police Commish will save that city from collapsing into the moral rot of LBJ's Great Society in the coming decade.
There. Done. Just change the calendar date (although it will ALWAYS be 1952) and the name of the town, and that will be every Ann Coulter mystery novel ever written before she even writes one.
And the sad thing? Publishers will line up for her mysteries because she has a known name, she has an agent on payroll who will line her up. Even if the official mystery publishers refuse her works, she can easily go to her conservative printing buddies and have them start a mystery series imprint just for her, and make arrangements for bookstores and retailers to shelve her crap at the front door of every Books-A-Million and Barnes & Noble out there.
Here's a mystery that's worth solving: can someone figure out why universities and public organizations are still willing to cough up $50,000 in speaking fees for this hack writer Ann Coulter?