Many writers can tell tales of woe concerning the odds of getting published. Rawi Hage's fascinating novel De Niro's Game was picked off the slush pile after being rejected countless times (or so the exaggeration goes) by countless (ditto) publishers, and then went on to win the IMPAC Award -- which comes with the biggest pile of money available for any single book. A similar fate awaited A Confederacy of Dunces. And I vaguely remember getting 9 rejections for Lichtenberg, my (quite horrible) first novel, which then still won the Debuutprijs.
Not so with the following folks: Four books that merrily got published, though not - one assumes - solely on the strength of their title:
My personal favorite is still the immortal Cooking with Pooh (did this go out of print?), but I do agree its cover does not live up to the full potential contained within the title.