As reality TV, with its relentless focus on the ordinary, has gone from strength to strength, it was only a matter of time before an equivalent emerged in the world of publishing.
Billed by Picador as "the East End minimalist", Smith has been feted as a fresh and authentic voice of the metropolitan working-class.
Her sparse style, deadpan delivery and mania for minutiae have earned rave reviews from various quarters including Helen Fielding, creator of Bridget Jones.
Smith is as unlikely a candidate for cult status as Big Brother's Jade Goody and hailed by the chattering classes for much the same reason.
Her pedestrian, low-brow, unperceptive prose has struck a chord with the so-bad-it's-good brigade. Cue ironic sniggers all round as My Holidays, her third book, provides us with yet more vignettes from what one critic has dubbed The Diary of a Nobody for the 21st century.
Writing about the mundane is not a worthless pursuit per se, but it does require imagination, skill and flair. Smith copiously lacks all three.
My Holidays by Sylvia Smith is published in hardback by Picador, priced £12.99. Out now.
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