Valerie Frankel's
Palace of Love
Vice SquadOctober 2, 2008Quick post re: the vp debate. Maggie and I counted how many times Palin said "nucular." TEN TIMES. How many times did she wink and say "maverick?" EIGHT TIMES. She's like a wind up doll. Pull a string and she spews "maverick. . . Wall Street greed . . . tax cuts . . ." Biden was masterful, on the other hand. He sounded like a populist, but a super smart, informed one. More reactions tomorrow. October 1, 2008A half-a-dozen readers have emailed to ask me where they can buy a clicker to count their daily tally of negative body thoughts. Here's a cute one, which is available for sale on amazon for the low, low price of eight bucks. Why do you need one? As I described in TITNH, I tried the experiment of counting all of my bad body image thoughts over the course of one day to see just how much I fixated on this. I counted over two hundred negative thoughts, or one every three and a half minutes! That's a lot of self-loathing! By realizing just how pervasive the thoughts were, I was able to consciously reduce their number—and impact. This strategy really works, peops. If you're at all willing to give it a try, click on the clicker, fork over the measly eight bucks, and prepare yourself for a mind-blowing. I haven't posted since before the debate (and you better believe I'll post after tomorrow night's Palin pile-up), and so much has happened. I know, understatement of the year. Barack is now safely ahead in Florida, Ohio and Pennsylvania, so we can all breathe a big sigh of relief. That is, when we're not fretting about the Dow. I have to say, these are difficult times to be a freelance writer. I cannot stop reading the blogs and news updates! It's a fever! A sickness! News junkyitis. If I could tear myself away for, like, an hour, I might be able to get some work done. Er, Good Housekeeping? My article is going to be a little bit late... "Thin Is the New Happy" or TITNH (pronounced "tit 'n' heysh") has enjoyed a lot of attention this week thanks to an item on Page Six in the NYPost (the hed: "Mag Editor Dopes to Stay Thin"), about my first two years at Mademoiselle in the early 1990s. Ancient history to some; breaking news to others. The Page Six nugget has been recycled on dozens of websites, including HuffPo, New York mag's The Cut, and jossip. Proof of how far Page Six reaches: I got an email today from a reporter in CHILE, asking me to comment. Naturally, since we're talking about trickle-down coverage of an item on a tabloid gossip page, the point I was trying to make in the book was completely lost on those who regurgitated the Page Six material (but didn't, natch, read the book). Not to say I haven't enjoyed the attention. I so have! I figure, people might buy the book looking for a Devil Wears Prada-ish expose on fashion mags—and they'll get some of that, but a lot more, too, which they'll be pleasantly surprised by. Greetings to all who are here because of Page Six and other gossip outlets! Yes, I did snort coke and smoke cigarettes in 1991 in order to stay thin. I admit it! Also, greetings to visitors who saw me on CBS's "The Insider" tonight. I hope it went well. I missed it (they told me the segment would appear on Entertainment Tonight; I was confused; Steve is furious because he sent an email telling his peops to watch ET; oops). Please email me and let me know if I embarrassed myself. My friend Nancy says I didn't. But I'm suppose to take her word for it??? This week has also brought other endorsements from people who have read the whole book, not only the juicy parts about sex and drugs. Some links below. September 25, 2008More September 23, 2008September 23, 2008 D-oh! Ms. Palin (aka, Ms. Pain-in-the-Ass) is on my mind today. I hate it that she gets to meet Bono. She probably listened to U2 songs while shooting defenseless animals back in the high school. Anyway, I wrote an essay about Ms. PITA for the Huffington Post. Last I heard (four minutes ago), the eds are preparing my essay for posting. I'll link ASAP (as soon as post). Cultural report: 1. We saw Ghost Town with Tea Leoni, Greg Kinear and Ricky Gervais. V. funny, worth the money. I breathed a sigh of relief when, at the end (this gives away NOTHING), there was no climactic kiss scene between Gervais and Leoni. Just, yuk, ya know? Anyway, do check it out. A mature, witty comedy. A much better way to spend a couple hours than House Bunny. 2. Brother Odd/Book of Lies. Two major bestselling novels by major bestselling authors Dean Koonz and Brad Meltzer respectively. Both books SUCKED. No characters to care about, contrived plots, weak endings (especially Brother Odd; 300 pages leading up to a fizzle?). In Meltzer's novel, his female characters were laughably one dimensional. When the hero decided he'd fallen in love with a character defined by being a yoga teacher, I laughed out loud. 3. Passing For Thin, by Frances Kuffel. This was a good read. Kuffel lives in my neighborhood and I loved the references to places I know. One major revelation: In the process of Kuffel losing half her weight (170 pounds), her mother was worried she was getting too thin. In my house, there was no such thing as too thin. Growing up, if I lost half my weight, my mother would have said, "Just another fifteen pounds." Nice job, Frances! I hope to bump into you in the nabe one of these days! In other news, Daryl Chen has a new kitten, too! Kitten TK (unnamed as yet) is a black-and-white ball of fluff. V. cute and adorable. Good luck to Daryl and Titi on their new addition. September 18, 2008Thanks a mil to all the people who came to my reading on Monday! It was about as much fun as I've ever had with my hair blown dry. So many great surprises: my psychic friend Mary T. Browne showed up and predicted big things for the book. Mary, I love your bag/ More fun TITNH news: 1. The New York Daily News named Thin Is the New Happy their Thersday section must-have book of the week! Here's the reviews: "Valerie Frankel is a prolific writer who lives in Brooklyn Heights, is in a loving marriage and has two lovely daughters. But she also had an issue that chased her throughout her life: her stomach. She was 11, living in Short Hills, N.J., when her fat-phobic mother forced her on the scales and then burst into tears when it registered 100 pounds. The family was going on a Club Med vacation, and her mother wasn't about to be embarrassed by a chubby daughter in a two-piece. So a six-week diet was instituted, and at the end there were tears again. Valerie was down to only 88 pounds. After the trip, she starting eating again, gained some weight and figured it out pretty quickly. "I could have food. Or I could have approval. I couldn't have both." That's when she became a diet addict. "I'm not an emotional eater, per se. I'm an emotional dieter." In the end, every diet took her further from her goal weight (at 5-feet-5, she was aiming for 135 pounds). She realized that she would be dieting until she was too old to feed herself. Even when her beloved husband was dying of lung cancer and she was awash in fear and sorrow, she took "supreme joy" at the weight she was losing. She festered for five years until a lovely man, who would later become her second husband, told her "I adore every inch of your body. And it would be even better if you could get rid of the stomach." In her early 40s, Valerie decided it was time to go cold turkey on dieting. She took unusual steps to exercise her malevolent body image. For instance, she posed nude for Self, the magazine where she worked. And, yes, she had a little talk with her mother. Valerie reports that as a committed nondieter, she has come down two dress sizes and continues to eat well and exercise for the right reasons. Or, as she puts it: "You have to love your body as a living organism, not hate it as a flawed decorative statue." She really does have a point."—Sherryl Connelly Thank you, Sherryl! I love the review so much, I won't quibble about being called "prolific." (aka, sausage maker). 2. Even more exciting, I got covered by the Brooklyn Heights Blog! Yippee! See link below. For those of you who are just tuning in, recently, I was called a "potty mouthed narcissist" by Pamela Miller of the Minneapolis Star Tribune. For any number of reasons, the phrase made me think (fondly) of memoirist Jen Lancaster. I told her as much in an email. She wrote back: "Seriously? I'd probably put that blurb on the cover." Jen's book "Such a Pretty Fat" is a hoot, BTW. Highly recommended. Last, I am finally on facebook, which my daughter tells me is so much cooler than myspace. September 15, 2008 Le Chatette Noir The tiny creature to the left is Tilly, our new feline pal (number four). She's had ring worm and was a bit crusty for a while there. Thank God her spores are drying up and she's healing nicely. Steve took this shot today of her posing next to Le Chat Noir print. I ask ya, does it get any cuter? Well? Does it? It doesn't. One last note for the day: as financial institutions crumble all around us, don't forget to pay your quarterly taxes! Like droplets into an ocean of national debt, so goes our tax dollars. September 13, 2008More attention for Thin Is the New Happy, this time from the NY TIMES! My memoir is featured in the ever-popular Sunday Styles section, in the "Books of Style" column. Here's a bit of it: "For the novelist and writer Valerie Frankel, thinness originated as her mother’s obsession, not hers. As a plumpish child in Short Hills, N. J., Ms. Frankel was badgered by her mother to lose weight and bullied with cries of “Put down that Twinkie” and “Give me that Ring Ding,” while her skinny sister and brother snacked to their hearts’ content. Children at school showed even less mercy, oinking and mooing at her in the hallway. At age 11, she was put on a diet, and she remained on one diet or another for the next 30 years. In her memoir, “Thin Is the New Happy,” she writes: “I could have food. Or I could have approval. I couldn’t have both.” The rueful, zestful, surprisingly funny story of Ms. Frankel’s battle reads like a sequel to the adventures of the chubby heroine of Judy Blume’s young-adult novel “Blubber.” Ms. Frankel openly shares her adolescent rebellions, her confidence-building sexual escapades and her career at Mademoiselle, where she was “the biggest girl in the articles department” at Size 8. “The Devil Eats Nada?” she asks. Her colleagues had a smorgasbord of eating disorders: one ate only a bunch of grapes and six jelly beans each day; another dosed herself on laxative teas; another “had full-blown anorexia” (and wrote about it in the magazine); still another was “a full-blown binger” (and wrote about it in the magazine). Ms. Frankel writes, “I thought, ‘If only I could have full-blown anorexia for, like, a month.’ ” Despite the humor she brings to her struggle, Ms. Frankel doesn’t make light of the weight fixation that plagues so many lives. While writing this memoir, she confronted her mother and asked if she was sorry she had criticized her so relentlessly as a child. Her mother responded that she herself had been treated much more cruelly by her own mother. But she also said that if she had it to do over, she would have acted just the same. “Relentlessness is a part of my personality,” her mother said. “I wanted you to be thin — I fought for it — because I loved you.” Ms. Frankel has accepted her mother’s limitations, understanding that she was helpless to change them. “We’re bonded like war buddies,” she writes. It’s a war, she adds, that the combatants wage upon themselves, to fight the menace of becoming “one of those happy, self-accepting fat people.” Ms. Frankel has gained the insight to see that “putting ‘cupcake’ in the same category as ‘Osama bin Laden’ is just wrong.” But that doesn’t mean she’s going to eat one unadvisedly."—Liesl Schillinger Thank you, Liesl! Wow! Comparing me to Judy Blume! How 'bout that? No higher compliment, as far as I'm concerned (and I don't say that only because Ms. Blume is like a God in our native state of New Jersey). This represents my first ever NYT review, after nineteen books. I love "rueful, zestful and surprisingly funny." Paging St. Martin's: I think we have a new blurb for the paperback edition! Gentle reminder about that Tribeca B&N reading on MONDAY night. Here's the info again. Monday, September 15th, 7:00 PM Barnes & Noble Booksellers - Tribeca 97 Warren Street New York, NY 10007 212-587-5389 UPDATE: This just in from the Star Tribune of Minneapolis St.-Paul. "Instead of insight or satire, we get potty-mouthed narcissism, confusing narratives that fly back and forth in time, a weird lack of emotion (or maybe simply the inability to convey it), no mention of anything truly important related to obesity and eating disorders in modern America, and no sense of irony that someone might spend every waking moment obsessed with gaining a pound or two as much of the world goes hungry. We'll pass on this dry dish."—Pamela Miller Well! Wasn't Minneapolis where the Republican National Convention was held?? Yeah, not my peops (not counting Laura Billings and Nick Coleman! You guys are the coolest!). For years, I'd tried to come up with a cute epithet for myself, and now I've finally got one. Henceforth, please address all emails to me "Dear Potty-Mouthed Narcissist." Thank you, Pamela Miller! September 8, 2008What a week! A review in People, and then an A- review in Entertainment Weekly. Here's the gist: "Considering her mother screamed and even cried when her daughter overate, it's no wonder Frankel struggle for decades with various body-image issues. But to her credit, this memoir is not an indictment of her mother nor a gushfest on learning to love one's belly bulge. Rather, it's a gritty, funny tale about one woman's quest to jettison a lifetime's worth of hang-ups, not to mention a closet full of Old Navy duds. A-"—Jessica Shaw Thank you a million times, Jessica! A blessing on your head and the heads of everyone you know! This review, I feel, totally gets the concept of the memoir. I love the "not a gushfest." Anyone who knows my stuff can tell you: I don't do gushfest. Unless it's about Wilco, Johnny Depp or Ryan Adams. My thought are drifting to my e-friend Meg Cabot lately. She lives in the Florida Keys, and is bracing for one or another hurricane every day. I have little doubt that it would take more than a hurricane to stop Meg for even an hour. Hope you're staying dry, Meg! ANNOUNCEMENT: I have an appearance coming up. And, no, it's not me doing Q&A in the produce aisle at Fairway. I'm reading at the Tribeca Barnes & Noble on September 15, that's next Monday at 7 PM. Barnes & Noble Booksellers Tribeca 97 Warren Street New York, NY 10007 212-587-5389 I will read. I will wear a nice dress. I think I'll bring some individually wrapped packages of chips and mini cans of diet Coke. Maybe Pez dispensers. If you have any interest in attending, I beg you, PLEASE DO! Events can be hideous if no one shows up. A damn good waste of makeup and hours of anxiety. Not that the anxiety is lessened by having a lot of people. Not that I would know... So, yeah, Tribeca BN. 7 PM. August 29, 2008The People magazine review is out. Three stars, peops. The blurbable line: "Funny and brutally frank ('the smaller my pants, the bigger the number of men who got into them'), she depicts a life defined by by the scale—until she embarks on the Not-Diet: eating what she wants (in moderation), exercising and silencing her inner critic. A satisfying account of the long road to self-acceptance."—Rennie Dyball A blessing on your head, Rennie Dyball! And a million thanks. Since the People mention, a horde of new readers have swung by. Greetings first-time visitors! My usual crowd of blog readers (all five of them) know to expect a lot of cursing and offensive language here. Just sending up a gentle warning. You can read with one hand over your eyes if needed. Here's the complete Kirkus review: "Novelist and self-help journalist Frankel (I Take This Man, 2007, etc.) chronicles her 30-year addiction to dieting and subsequent "journey out of the waistland."After trying 150 different diets, the author made a pact with herself to go on a "Not Diet," a decidedly forgiving approach to eating based on the theory that she would achieve her goals via moderation and exercise, as long as it involved getting rid of the negative emotions and self-flagellation that characterized her relationship to food. With the aid of a stopwatch, she spent a day counting 263 specific instances of negative thoughts. These thoughts far exceeded those about family, sex or money (which she also tallied), which convinced her of the need for a complete overhaul. Before the Not Diet could work, however, she had to confront the sources of her negative emotions. She started with her "fatphobic" mother, followed by her bully tormentors in junior high school. She explored how a weight-obsessed culture at Mademoiselle, where she worked for years, validated and enhanced her own preoccupations. As part of her self-acceptance process, she posed nude for Self magazine and got a wardrobe makeover from friend Stacy London (of What Not to Wear fame), who helped the author make the connection between looking good and feeling good. Frankel's attempts to shift her focus toward love, personal success and even the pleasure of food prove galvanizing, and the journey is relevant and even inspiring. Infused with humor and refreshing candor, the book will resonate with anyone who's counted carbs or tried to subsist on rice cakes and grapefruit. A self-aware, witty exploration of a woman's body issues." Thank you, anonymous reviewer! I like the moniker "self-help journalist." BTW Kirkus, in the future, please make that AWARD-WINNING self-help journalist, thank you very much. The Publisher's Weekly review, upholding a long-standing tradition, called me "prolific." Hate. It's like calling an author "sausage maker" or "she who cranks." A quick response to the choice of Sarah Palin: The idea that this (or any) anti-choice, pro-gun, anti-enviro female thing would even TEMPT Hillary supporters to go to the dark side is risible! Laughable! Up-chuckable! We don't love Hillary because she is a woman. We love her because she is OUR VOICE! I can tell you right now that Hillary supporters do not speak Palin. Every time PAlin opens her mouth, she might as well be saying, "Vote for Barack." How do Republicans spell BACKFIRE? P-A-L-I-N. A word to Republican book buyers: No offense! Don't let my love of Hillary sway you from reading "Thin Is the New Happy." Truly, any woman, even Sarah Palin, will enjoy and appreciate this memoir. It's decidedly non-partisan. Once, I talked about having bad sex with a Republican. But I wrote about having bad sex with Democrats, too! The book is about body image, not politics! The body politik, if I may. So! Happy Labor Day, peops! August 28, 2008Much to report. Maggie, daughter number 1, turned 13 years old yesterday. Happy birthday, Maggie! We were in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean for her day, returning to a port in Bayonne, NJ, having spent the last four days on a cruise to Bermuda. Thanks again, Maxine and Lee Rosenberg, my in-laws from my first marriage, for taking us! The trip was excellent. Much snorkeling, swimming, mouthfuls of salt water and pina coladas. The most exciting moment for me was on our afternoon of reef fishing. I caught this African pompano (twelve pounds)! Biggest catch of the day. Re: memoir, it comes out on Sept. 2nd. Already, lots of advanced coverage, including an excerpt in Self, and a give-away contest in Complete Woman, and a nice plug in Parenting. I got a fantastic Kirkus review (first in five years). Upcoming notices have been confirmed in People (tomorrow's issue) and Entertainment Weekly (Sept 5th issue). I haven't seen the People or EW reviews yet, but St. Martin's spies tell me that they are both friendly to the book. I'll post more tomorrow. We're only just back, and I'm v. tired.  We named it Pompie |
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