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There's the Nobel Prize. There's the Booker Prize. There's the Prix Goncourt. But everyone knows that the only true hallmark of writerly success is that bootleg copies of your books can be found translated into Burmese, and are made available in bookshops in downtown Yangon and Mandalay.

Does this book even exist? Why are there three different covers. What's with the gingerbread people? What about the disappearing family? So many questions. If any Burmese friends ever stumble across these, get me a copy, and I will repay you with a mix of cold hard cash, and endless gratitude.

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