Reese Witherspoon is co-writing a thriller with Harlan Coben. At first this annoyed books editor Claire Mabey, but then she did a full 180. Here’s why. 

I started off thinking I was going to write a dark tirade about celebrities hijacking publishing. But I’ve landed myself squarely on opposing turf and this is how it happened.

I was doomscrolling on Instagram and came across a post by Vogue magazine displaying photos of celebrities papped carrying, or even reading, books. The post came with this caption: “Forget the latest it bag – nowadays, celebrities are carrying a different status symbol: books. After all, what people read (or, at the very least, appear to be reading) conveys far more than a regular paparazzi shot. But are these celebrities really reading the books they tote around?”

The caption then challenged us rugged doomscrollers to head to the link in the bio to see the list of the books that the likes of Jacob Elordi, Dua Lipa, Kendall Jenner, Kaia Gerber, and Jodie Smith were caught hefting about their lovely lives. Naturally I clicked and squinted at the photos and read the little blurbs that the Vogue writer had crafted up for each. Jacob Elordi was snapped reading The Art of Cinema by Jean Cocteau; famously devoted reader Kaia Gerber was cradling Mario Vargas Llosa’s The Bad Girl; Jodie Smith had bell hooks’ All About Love; and Dua Lipa had Ocean Vuong’s On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous. 

I didn’t actually care whether the beautiful people were reading the books but did find myself charmed and enthused by the displays of such great taste, and by the fact that the celeb selections seemed genuine. As in, they didn’t at all appear to be product placement (because the books aren’t new releases or even the celeb’s own books). 

Time being as it is on social media, I moved on, kept scrolling. Between reels of how to make grilled cheese sandwiches and people diving off nauseatingly high and rocky ledges, I found Reese Witherspoon announcing her latest book, a collaboration with crime writer Harlan Coben. “I’m beyond excited to share that I’m co-writing my very first thriller with # 1 best selling author, @harlancoban ! As a massive fan of Harlan’s work I can’t believe he’s agreed to co-author a novel with me. I’m either the most persuasive person alive or the idea of the book is just TOO GOOD! Maybe both? [emojis] I honestly can’t wait for you all to read. Pre-order now at the link in my bio.”

The 2,500+ comments included this from Gwenyth Paltrow: “Wait, WHAT? How were we just texting and you said NOTHING about this?!?”

Unlike the Vogue post, when I first saw Witherspoon’s news I felt a flush of irritation. In a different way to Paltrow. Mine was of the “does the world really need a thriller by Reese Witherspoon that’s actually by Harlan Coben?” variety. Swiftly followed by the more alarmist, “what fresh hell of celeb collabs is this going to unleash?” Coben is a hugely successful writer on his own: a bunch of his books have been made into TV shows and movies, including Fool Me Once, which is a current hit for Netflix. Was Witherspoon’s idea really that good, or is this just another orchestrated ball of marketing dazzle to make sure that Coben’s publishers have a hell of a hit on their hands come October 2026 (when the book is out)?

On USA Today, Coben (who seems a delightful person) said that Witherspoon came to him with the idea and though he was initially wary, he was wowed by it. “We text back and forth all the time on how we can make the story better. She’s so great to work with,” he said. 

My irritation thawed. I had to admit I’ve always admired Witherspoon’s chutzpah. She seems to have a lot of energy for making things. A level of energy I would personally love to have. Her children’s book series, Busy Betty, looks annoying as per usual for celebrity children’s picture books, but the rest of her career is undeniably impressive. Plus, it’s not like Witherspoon is coming into books cold turkey. For years she’s been offering up recommendations on Reese’s Book Club, anointing new releases with the magic dust of celebrity platform and approval, making or breaking a publisher’s bottom line and the careers of their authors, and introducing followers to new books. 

And this is where my cynicism fully thawed and did a 180 on celebrity book culture. All of the celebs on that Vogue post sleuthed by paparazzi; all of the celebrity bookstagrammers that flare up in my social feed from time to time: Sarah Jessica Parker (who has accessorised with Aotearoa books), Kaia Gerber, Dua Lipa, Florence Welch, Witherspoon. We need them. Our industry needs their manicured hands on as many books as possible. Because reading is of course for everyone, even the mega rich and famous, and whether we like it or not, the trickle-down reach is such that a candid photo of a famous person with their latest library hold will reach a woman doomscrolling in bed at an ungodly hour in New Zealand (who will then be reminded that she lent out On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, but to whom remains a mystery).

The book is among the most accessible accessory a celebrity is likely to tote. And as such the habit of reading helps keep celebrities in touch with the one activity truly able to be commonly enjoyed by both the famous and the masses that prop up their vast social media platforms.

Which is not to say I’m entirely comforted by or comfortable with the necessity for famous people to make sure books are in the mix with bags. Celebrity writer and crappy person David Walliams has singlehandedly tainted the children’s book market (in the latest Nielsen Bookdata scan for New Zealand sales of children’s books, two of his terrible titles are in the top 10). There is, undoubtedly, an opportunistic and distasteful side to cashing in on a famous person’s reach.

But by and large, judging by bestseller lists worldwide, readers are also still investing in debut novels by unknown writers, and books by writers who didn’t start out as celebs, like Sally Rooney. Many famous people, including the ones in that Vogue insta post, are displaying evidence of genuine personal taste and curiosity in the vaster wilds of literature and what it has to offer them. And by proxy, what it can offer the people they influence and are judged by. 

In this Guardian column earlier in 2024, John Self canvassed the celebrity novel in all of its forms. He looked at the case of Stranger Things actor Millie Bobby Brown who tried to almost be transparent about her ghostwritten book; he looked at the cases of Richard Osman and Stephen Fry, celebrity novelists who can actually write and whose publishers and agents shudder at the “celebrity novelist” label because of its inherent sneer. Self talked to publishers who are blatant about seeking writers with existing platforms because it’s easier to sell a book by someone with existing momentum. He covered how disheartening it is for an unknown debut novelist to be very far down the queue compared to a famous person.

But the crux of the overview that is more resonant now than ever, the economy being what it is, is that publishers need to make hard, fast cash to prop up the risks; the literary fiction, the stories by non-celebs. 

Will I read Witherspoon’s collab with Coben? Unlikely. But I’ll be thankful that the sales generated by their work will enable the writers waiting in their wings.