The latest news from the Johnston studios is that Beth Cruikshank plans to write a bio for Liz's sometimes friend, sometimes rival Candace Halloran. This would be to her tastes because she can indulge her need to discuss the following favorite themes:
Paternal Abuse: For some reason or another, Beth's Liographies all seem to have cruel, medieval patriarchs racing around bloviating about how it's their God-given right to be a selfish, authoritarian muttonhead and run roughshod over the protagonist. In Candace's instance, her step-father has made it quite clear that he wants to have sex with her under her mother's nose. He differs from most of the selfish, defective fathers by claiming handjive as his God-given right.
Maternal Neglect: The cruel, selfish, entitled patriarch that Beth loves to write about can only oppose the laws of decency and propriety because the mother hasn't the will or sense to stand up to him. In Connie's case, her mother simpered that it would be sheerest cruelty to inform the obscurantist amoeba-brained dad that it was his fault his line ran to daughters. In Candace's instance, her mother refuses point-blank to confront her asshole husband because her need to have a man, any man, weighs more heavily on her mind than the well-being of her child.
Unhappy, turbulent childhoods: The worst example of that was, of course, Fiona Brass; the only friend she ever really had was a stray cat. Candace is only marginally better off; caught as she is between the fires of a loathsome pervert step-dad and a gutless mother, it should be obvious that Candace's less lovely behaviors were a defense mechanism designed to protect her from the ravages of her wind-blown world.
Patterson Worship: Always and ever in the Liographies, when the subject first encounters the ultra-bland Pattersons, he or she outwardly judges them as being too weak to survive in this ugly world. This is, of course, because the protagonist secretly envies the calm, orderly lives the Pattersons lead, the quiet wisdom of the sainted Elly and the hidden fortitude of the noble John. This leads to the inevitable resolution: friendship with a member of the Holy Family as the only means to salvation. This means, of course, the sufferer, if female, will live a happy Patterlife with the car, the house, the boy-girl pair of kids and the husband who doesn't know where anything is because he just lives there. If male, the little woman will, after having done all the housework, have the sense to keep the offsprings out of the way while Daddy cowers behind his paper.
Self-delusion: The Pattersons themselves are unable by design to enjoy or be grateful for the things they have so they regard the bounty before them as the bleak leavings of an unkind fate. Given their odd tendency to project their insatiable longings onto other people, they tell themselves fairy-tales about how everyone else in the world is worse off than they are in a failed attempt to feel good about themselves.
Fear: The Pattersons' need to reassure themselves that everyone else is doing far worse than they are stems from their mortal terror of the new and unfamiliar. As long as they can convince themselves that everyone secretly envies them, their own existences become bearable.
Lynnglish: The writing style will, of course, be a turgid abomination that violates the rules of syntax, plausibility and common decency.
Inconsistency: Since Lynn cannot be bothered to stick to a set vision of the past, each Liography seems to take place in its own self-contained world.
Idiocy: Without exception, the one-dimensional characters in the Liographies make the loutish Grade-Z Bond villain wannabes that populate Disney's Kim Possible and Marathon Production's Totally Spies! seem like clear-headed, multi-dimensional characters who think coherently and plan intelligently.
Beth's love of selfish tyrant fathers and doormat mothers says something odd about her; it says that her favorite genre is what is dismissively referred to as either "abuse porn" or Narm. What really stinks is that Lynn's fans are oh-so-eager to devour Beth's literary greaseburger; since they grew up on a diet of intellectual junk food, they assume that the cheap theatrics Lynn chooses to call a character sketch is great writing.