The book I'm currently reading is titled Weeds in the Garden of Words: Further observations on the tangled history of the English language.
On the back cover, with all the laudatory bits normally found on book covers is this curious bit of praise:
"A delight to read. Only Pinker can write this engagingly about language."--Professor Charles E. Meyer, University of Massachusetts, Boston.
That is nice praise. However, if I were the author, I think I'd be crushed by Professor Meyer's adulation because if I were the author, my name would be Kate Burridge, and not Pinker.