Damn, it's freezing here!

Lots of deep thoughts about "Fat Pig," Kirstie Alley's expanding waistline and diminishing common sense, and why female writers don't get male groupies (actually, the only thing I have to say about that piece is: the vast majority of readers of women's fiction -- or, really, any fiction at all -- are other women. Hence, no twenty-year-old boys flinging their boxer shorts at Toni Morrison. Or, alas, me).

But first, some small administrative details.

One: there's a link on www.jenniferweiner.com that will whisk you off to Simon & Schuster's website, where you can sign up for updates on my latest efforts.

Two: IN HER SHOES is now available in a fetching little mass market paperback edition that fits nicely into stockings for the bargain basement price of $7.99! You can buy it online, at your local independent bookseller, at the drugstore, the grocery store, Wal-Mart, and even the occasional well-stocked gas station. And did I mention that it's $7.99? A bargain at twice the price!

Actually, I do have one more thing to say about the Curtis Sittenfeld essay: how pissed do you think poor Erica Jong was to be included in the "writes a lot about sex category" as opposed to the "is really sexy" group?

After she took such pains to remind us in last week's NYTBR that back in the seventies she was, like, really hot stuff, and widowed male poets could barely keep their hands off her?

More soon.

Jen