I realize I come off like I don't read much more than beer bottle labels...
...but lo and behold, the T-to the I-to the makes the lady 'lees say EEEEEEEEE actually DOES crack open written manuscripts from time to time (and, ironically, also Time). The last book I finished was actually a reread, the classic Thomas Harris thriller "The Silence of the Lambs." I honestly believe that this is the only novel in existence that has been made into a popular motion picture where I have only read the book and not actually seen the film. It's a classic yarn, to be sure, though the idea of the book always DOES leave me a bit bitter. For as a wee lad of but nineteen precocious years of age back in the year 19(ahemahem), I submitted to the very same publisher a similarly gripping tale called "The Silence of the Bunny Rabbits." Summarily rejected was my faithful, harrowing would-be masterpiece, on some idiotic grounds that "bunny rabbits never actually DO make any noise," or some such. A year later, Harris hit the top of the best-seller list with an obvious rip-off. But one day, mark my words, I shall seek out this Harris character, wave my original manuscript in the air and sneer, "Recognize THIS, cheater?" and then bludgeon him about the facial and neck regions with a Garden Weasel. And then, at long, long last, I shall hear the triumphant rejoicing of bunny rabbits everywhere.