Joy Fielding - Charleys Web

FROM: Irate Reader

TO: Charley@CharleysWeb.com

SUBJECT: YOU ARE THE WORST COLUMNIST EVER!!!

DATE: Mon. 22 Jan. 2007, 07:59:470500

Hey, Charley: Just a brief note to let you know that aside from being THE WORST COLUMNIST WHO EVER LIVED!!! you are quite possibly THE MOST SELF-ABSORBED WOMAN ON THE PLANET!!! Its obvious from your photographthe long, wavy, blond hair, the knowing glance from large, downcast eyes, the subtle smirk on those no doubt Restylane-enhanced lipsthat you think the sun rises and sets on your lovely shoulders. Your insipid columns about shopping for the perfect stilettos, searching for just the right shade of blush, and coping with the demands of a new personal trainer have only solidified my assessment. But what on earth would make you think there is anyone who is even moderately interested in learning about your latest foray into the world of the sublimely shallowa Brazilian wax?!!! Before your graphic and unnecessarily lurid description regarding the denuding of your nether region in Sundays paper(WEBB SITE, Sunday, January 21)I actually had no idea there even was such a thing, let alone that any grown womanI know from a previous column that you celebrated your thirtieth birthday last Marchwould willingly consent to such a barbaric procedure. I wonder how your poor father reacted when he read about his Harvard-educated daughter infantilizing her body in such a demeaning way. I wonder how your mother manages to hold her head up in front of her friends with the constant public airing of such privatedare I say, pubic?matters. (At least they have two other daughters to keep their spirits buoyed!!! Kudos to Anne, incidentally, for the stunning success of her latest novel, Remember Lovenumber 9 on the New York Times bestseller list, and climbing!!! And to Emily, who made such a lovely impression when she subbed for Diane Sawyer on Good Morning America last month!!!) Those are truly daughters to make any parent proud.

And speaking of daughters, what must your eight-year-old think when she sees you parading around the house in the nude, as Im sure you do, judging from how much you obviously enjoy exposing yourself in print!!! Not to mention the teasing your five-year-old son will be subjected to in his kindergarten class from other children whose parents were no doubt similarly appalled by Sundays column! Last weeks article about sex toys was bad enough!!

Can you not look beyond the tip of your pert little nosecourtesy of the best plastic surgery money can buy, no doubtand consider the effect of such indiscreet blathering on both these young innocents?! (Although what can one expect from a woman who prides herself on never having married either of her childrens fathers?!!!)

Ive had it up to here with your inane yapping about all things Charley. (Thank you for not using your given name of Charlotte. At least you spared us the desecration of that most wonderful of childrens books!) After three years of readingand shaking my head in dismay!!!at your dimwitted musings, I have finally reached the end of my rope. I would rather hang myself by my own still intact pubic hairs than read one more word of your puerile prose, and I can no longer justify supporting any newspaper that chooses to publish it. I am therefore canceling my subscription to the Palm Beach Post as of today.

Im sure I speak for many disgusted and disgruntled readers when I say, WHY CANT YOU JUST SHUT UP AND GO AWAY?!!!!

C harley Webb sat staring at the angry letter on her computer screen, not sure whether to laugh or cry. It wasnt just that the letter was so nasty that had her feeling so unsettledshed received many that were worse over the years, including several this very morning. Nor was it the almost hysterical tone of todays letter. Again, she was used to reader outrage. And it wasnt the wildly overused punctuation either. Writers of angry e-mails tended to view their every sentence as important and therefore worthy of capital letters, italics, and multiple exclamation points. It wasnt even the personal nature of the attack. Any woman who devoted a thousand words to her recent Brazilian wax had to expect attacks of a personal nature. Someincluding a few of her colleaguesmight even say she invited them, that she prided herself on being provocative. She got what she deserved, they might say.

They might even be right.

Charley shrugged. She was used to controversy and criticism. She was used to being called incompetent and lightweight, as well as a host of other more unflattering epithets. Shed grown used to having her motives questioned, her integrity impugned, and her looks dissected and disparaged. She was also used to being told it was those same looks that had gotten her a byline in the first place. Or that one of her more famous sisters must have pulled some strings. Or that her father, a highly esteemed professor of English literature at Yale, had used his influence to get her the job.

She was used to being called a bad daughter, a worse mother, a terrible role model. Such slurs usually rolled off her lovely shoulders. So what was it about this particular e-mail that had her trapped between laughter and tears? What about it made her feel so damn vulnerable?

Maybe she was still smarting from the fallout from last weeks column. Her neighbor, Lynn Moore, who lived several doors away from Charley on a once-decrepit, now verging-on-fashionable, small street in downtown West Palm, had invited her to a so-called Passion Party, just before Christmas. It turned out to be a variation of the old neighborhood Tupperware party, except that instead of a variety of heavy-duty plastic containers on display, there were vibrators and dildos. Charley had had a wonderful time handling all the assorted