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So are publishing houses sensibly dealing with their beleaguered state by paying modest advances to talented, seasoned authors, rather than throwing huge sums of money at writing neophytes with famous last names in the (likely vain) hope that the ensuing cheap publicity will render whatever crap is stuck between the covers irrelevant? Don't be silly! Meghan McCain has just signed a deal in the "high six figures" with Hyperion, reports Leon Neyfakh, for a book about—well, it's not yet clear what it's about, probably because Meghan's agent Flip Brophy knew that having her client actually write anything wouldn't exactly help with the pitch. None of which is to imply, of course, that the collated thoughts of a 24-year-old spotlight-loving Republican—whose literary disquisitions to date include her noble acceptance of being a size 8 and what a bummer it is trying to date when your dad has lost the election—isn't exactly what the world needs.