Synopsis
Julia Einstein never wanted to return to her high-stress job of celebrity publicist. But when her husband loses his job, she has no choice but to reenter the world of monstrous egos, imperfect illusions, and 24-hour spin—a world she thought she had left behind forever when she had a baby three years ago and moved to the suburbs.
Stranded now at a third-rate publicity firm in New York City that specializes in resuscitating the careers of "Has Beens," Julia's first assignment is to promote the launch of a perfume: a scent created to engineer the comeback of 73-year-old former screen goddess Mary Ford.
In the unpredictable Mary, Julia gets much more than she bargained for. And when she is forced to go on the road with the former diva to promote her failing product, Julia finds herself tested to the very brink of human endurance by: her mercurial, abusive charge; her pompous and infinitely devious boss; by keen bouts of homesickness; by angry PETA activists; and by PR disasters and a perfume that, well, stinks.
For every woman who has ever confronted the hard choices of work and family, and lived to tell the tale, and for every woman who has overcome seemingly insurmountable odds (not to mention losing those last 10 pounds!), this is a novel as touching and hilarious as they come. Brimming with comic moments, sharply witty observations and unexpected poignancy, this is vintage Zigman at her very best.
Publishers Weekly
Zigman (Animal Husbandry) visits the popular chick lit landscape of Manhattan public relations, but with a less glamorous twist. The publicist is 36-year-old Julia Einstein, a Connecticut housewife who has been relishing her life as a stay-at-home mom to toddler son Leo. When her husband, Peter, loses his job, Julia is thrust back into the world she left behind. After calling on a savvy and successful friend for advice, Julia ends up at John Glom Public Relations, a "firm that handles desperate has-beens," where she must work with actress Mary Ford, billed as a "client, paying for the right to suck the life out of us." That Julia finds an antidote for Mary's dwindling fame is predictable, but the process generates its share of chuckles. Ford is ceaselessly cruel, but her vulnerability flickers tellingly beneath her veneer of icy disgust. Julia's portrait of motherhood is overly sentimental, and her references to Leo as "The Scoob" are doggedly cute. Julia's swift handling of potential PR disasters make for an amusing read, and the ending is just as happy as can be. (Sept. 25) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.