Janet Maslin of the New York Times is allegedly going to review GOODNIGHT NOBODY. It'll be my first Times review.

I'm giddy as a young girl in a field, and a little anxious.

So anxious that I've been hitting REFRESH on the home page oh, about once every five minutes.

So far, there's a piece about E. L. Doctorow, and one about Jonathan Safran Foer, and nothing about GOODNIGHT NOBODY (which is out tomorrow, in case I haven't mentioned it).

I'm going to let my husband take over the Times-watch. We've agreed on a three-tiered system: A., it's really great and you should read it; B., it's kind of mixed but still quotable, and C., why don't you just read that nice review in Newsday again?

In other news, Vogue's Anna Wintour don't like fat people!

Yes, that's exactly what her lieutenant Andre Leon Talley told Oprah Winfrey, in a remark that's drawn a suprising amount of ire.

I mean, really. Can anyone who's even flipped casually through the pages of Vogue have any doubt as to the wafer-thin Miss Wintour's position on the more amply endowed?

Most of the models in Vogue weigh less than the September issue did.

Most of the clothes in Vogue wouldn't fit past the average American woman's thighs (nor could she afford them, which is another discussion entirely).

I can't imagine anyone's really shocked to hear the truth, even put so bluntly. Still, though, it's funny to watch Talley frantically backpedal, telling the New York Daily News "I do apologize if I offended anyone. What I should have said is that Anna is very concerned about people's weight because of the health issue."

So sleep soundly, plus-size women of America, knowing that Anna Wintour's concerned about your health. I know I will.

Finally, on a hopelessly inside-baseball note, writers who read this site might know that there's an agent out there who blogs under the nom de guerre Miss Snark.

Speculation's been rampant as to the identity of the masked agent, with some readers guessing that Miss Snark is, in fact, my agent, the divine and beneficent Joanna Pulcini.

How do I know this? Because Joanna told me so. "They think she's ME!" she squeaked indignantly over dinner.

My editor and I almost dropped our profiteroles. "You?" I gasped. "Snarky?"

Joanna looked even more indignant. "I can be snarky!"

"You are so not snarky. You're the opposite of snark. You," I told her, "are where snark goes to die."


"You went to Catholic school for high school, college, and graduate school!" I said. "If someone walked into your house, told you your sister was ugly and took a dump on your dining-room table, you'd offer them toilet tissue. Scented toilet tissue!"

"No, I wouldn't!" said Joanna.

"No, she wouldn't," said my editor.

"Okay," I said. "You're tough. But you're not snarky."