Jamie Oliver’s worst crime? Penning another celebrity children’s book

Oh dear Jamie Oliver. Not sure how you’re going to bish, bash or even bosh your way out of this one.

I’m no hater, but launching a half-baked children’s book is even worse than that time you brought us to the brink of war with Spain by adding chorizo to paella. And then, despite the social media death threats, foolishly, courageously refused to recant, defiantly insisting on The Graham Norton Show: “Just FYI, it tastes better with chorizo.”

I’m not sure there’s a enough smoked sausage on the planet to leaven the humble pie the celebrity chef has been force-fed since sparking outrage with his most recent foray into children’s publishing.

His fantasy novel Billy and the Epic Escape has apparently contributed to the “erasure, trivialisation and stereotyping” of Indigenous Australians, prompting the entire run to be removed from shelves worldwide and such extravagant apologies from Oliver I’m wondering if he actually penned his book, or was it in fact summoned up by a ghost writer in the literary equivalent of a dark kitchen?

Either way, his publishers were evidently too star-struck to carry out the sort of boring due diligence proper writers have to endure. That’s the thing about showbizzy folks; agents, publishers and retailers will accept any old guff if there’s a household name on the dust jacket.

Shame on them; upsetting First Nation Australians inadvertently is easily resolved, less so is letting famous faces masquerade as authors just when we need to engage children in reading as never before.

Which makes it all the more reassuring when said children turn up their noses at amateurish efforts; young readers can always spot a fraud. The tortured attempt at “rhyming” couplets and entire absence of plot ensured that Meghan Markle’s picture book The Bench sold just 8,000 copies in the UK. And a discerning tweenager demographic explains why Madonna’s egregiously unoriginal The English Roses hasn’t entered the timeless pantheon of children’s classics.

There’s more. Sorry. Keira Knightley has written a children’s book, as has Jennifer Aniston,Will Smith, Reese Witherspoon and (say it ain’t so!) Barack Obama, whom I thought was cool enough to know better. Even Channing Tatum’s had a go. Yes, the Magic Mike actor popped his pants on long enough to dream up Sparkella, a series based on his relationship with his daughter. Sigh. It sounds churlish to nix such a beautiful and potentially lucrative bond, but that’s always the sentimental justification for vanity projects.

Writing for children is hard. It’s an art, a challenge and above all a full-time job. Which is why celebrity dilettantism is not a victimless crime; not only do they take the spotlight off professional authors, but they seriously impact their income. And as for the quality of stories; suffice to say Philip Pullman won’t be losing much sleep, but a host of other less well-known writers will be, as they, and their work, struggle for recognition above the sea of dross. Unlike Cat Deeley or Sir Paul McCartney (yup, him too), they haven’t got a highly paid main hustle to rely on.

As Jamie O has discovered the hard way, there’s no point banning junk food from the canteen then serving up garbage in the library. My advice to narcissistic celebrities is to stick with being utterly fabulous at the day job and let the real experts get on with the serious business of making reading fun.