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Allow me to present a hypothesis: Dan Brown is the Anne Hathaway of authors. Hard-working, serious about his craft (even if others aren't), with lots and lots of money to show for it. People eagerly devour his books, of course, partaking — happily, in most cases — of what he has to offer in terms of entertainment for the planet, regardless of what the reviewers have to say. He gets a lot of media attention. His agent and his publisher are probably quite thrilled. He throws himself into what he does in a no-holds barred fashion without fear of being thought a nerd or "uncool" (see turtlenecks and tweed jackets). And along with his fame and the positive responses he gets, there are leagues of haters.
It is, in truth, fun to hate Dan Brown, for multitudinous reasons — he's so earnest. He takes himself so seriously! He can be judged superiorly as not a very "good" (like, MFA good, like intellectual good, like using metaphors properly good) writer. He makes so much money, sells ever so many books (in jealousy there is easy hate). He dresses his characters in his own clothes. He finds being a writer ever so hard; "brutal," in fact, much like Anne Hathaway's "lettuce diet" in preparation for her role in Le Mis. If Hathaway is "affected and actressy," Brown is "affected and writerly." He's an overachiever who doesn't mind people knowing about it. Not only does he work hard, he will plainly tell you how hard he works. Did you know he gets up every day to write at 4 a.m.?