In the latest round of celebrity literary battles, Freddy Natchpal, the great-grandson of Lord Mountbatten, has taken aim at none other than Meghan Markle, the Duchess of Sussex.

This clash isn’t just about books; it’s a showdown between authenticity and perceived pretentiousness.

With Natchpal’s new children’s book, “Pablo’s Birthday,” hitting the shelves, the stakes have never been higher, and the tea is hotter than ever.

On one side of this literary ring, we have Meghan Markle, who recently released her own children’s book titled “The Bench.” Marketed as a heartfelt tale about fathers and sons, many readers found it lacked the charm and excitement one would expect from a children’s book.

Critics have likened the reading experience to watching paint dry—hardly the engaging narrative you’d want for a child’s bedtime story.

Now, let’s talk about Freddy Natchpal.

Unlike Markle, he seems to have a knack for capturing attention.

His book revolves around his beloved French Bulldogs, a subject that naturally draws in readers, especially kids.

Who can resist a delightful story featuring adorable, smushy-faced dogs?

Natchpal’s approach feels fresh and relatable, contrasting sharply with Markle’s more self-referential style.

In a world where life lessons are crucial, Freddy’s narrative doesn’t shy away from imparting wisdom.

He weaves in messages about sharing and friendship, making his book not just entertaining but also educational.

It’s like combining the best elements of a classic dog tale with essential life skills—think “The Godfather” meets “Sesame Street.”

Meanwhile, Meghan’s offering raises eyebrows for its lack of depth.

What exactly is the takeaway from “The Bench”?

The notion that benches exist and fathers sometimes sit on them?

It hardly breaks new ground or offers any genuine insight into family dynamics.

One can’t help but wonder if Markle’s motivation stemmed from a desire to maintain relevance in the public eye rather than a genuine passion for storytelling.

Critics have pointed out that Markle’s foray into children’s literature feels more like a midlife crisis than a heartfelt endeavor.

Instead of a flashy sports car, she’s opted for a book, hoping to capture the attention of an audience that seems increasingly indifferent.

On the flip side, Natchpal is living life to the fullest, balancing reality TV and nightclub management while casually writing a book that resonates with children and their parents alike.

Let’s not overlook the issue of authenticity.

Markle, who has only recently embraced motherhood, presents herself as an authority on parenting, which many find audacious and even laughable.

It’s akin to someone dabbling in brain surgery after merely watching a few episodes of “Grey’s Anatomy.” Natchpal, however, writes from a place of genuine love for his pets, steering clear of any pretense.

Illustration matters, too.

While Markle’s book has been criticized for its lackluster illustrations, Natchpal has enlisted a professional illustrator, showcasing a level of respect for his young audience that Markle’s work seems to lack.

This difference highlights a broader point: it’s not just about the story but how it’s presented.

At the heart of this debate lies a more significant issue—what these books reveal about their authors.

Markle’s work screams for attention, almost as if it’s a cry for help in a world that seems to be moving on without her.

In contrast, Natchpal’s book exudes a laid-back vibe, inviting readers to share in his joy for his dogs without any ulterior motives.

Furthermore, the use of children for fame is another contentious topic.

Markle has faced criticism for seemingly exploiting her own child as a means to garner attention.

It raises ethical questions about using family members as props in a PR game.

Natchpal, however, keeps his family out of the spotlight, focusing on fictional characters inspired by his dogs, which feels wholesome and genuine.

Ultimately, writing for children should prioritize their enjoyment and education over the author’s ego.

Markle’s work feels like a self-indulgent project disguised as a children’s book, while Natchpal’s efforts appear to genuinely aim for fun and engagement.

Isn’t that what children’s literature is all about?

As we navigate this literary landscape, perhaps there’s a lesson to be learned here.

Authenticity and genuine passion resonate far more than mere celebrity status.

Freddy Natchpal’s delightful tales about his dogs may just remind us all that sometimes, less is more, especially when it comes to writing for children.