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THE latest ill-advised celebrity novelist (we're still recovering from Nicole Richie's stunning tome The Truth About Diamonds) is perpetually recovering child star Macauley Culkin, who makes a spectacularly out-there writing debut with Junior, a demented, vaguely coherent, quasiautobiographical hodge-podge of faux letters, short stories, quizzes, poems, diary entries and lists ('People who are dead'), illustrated by Macauley's own primitive drawings.
The strangest thing? That Junior isn't entirely without literary merit beyond the obvious car-crash appeal, as the former Home Alone star mercilessly dissects his own tweenie rise and fall . . . Culkin's mate Michael Jackson, however, is notable by his absence. Can that call from Quentin Tarantino be far off?
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YOU ARE HERE: 19 March 2007 / tribune.ie / 2006 / 03 / 19
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