cover

Jessa, over at BookSlut, sums up perfectly something I've inarticulately railed about, at some length, in the past:

Sometimes when an author comes up with a really great idea, and with it creates a monster of disappointment and despair, destroying every good thing that could have been, I wish it was okay for another author to do a cover version. Like all those Leonard Cohen songs with the weird women's backing vocals, which are always so much better when someone else sings them. Poor, poor book idea, you just presented yourself to the wrong damn writer.