I adored Jay McInerney's book Story of my Life, which is allegedly based on John Edwards' mistress, Rielle Hunter. McInerney adopts the voice of a trashy 20 year old female narrator, and almost every page contains the word "cocaine" or "dick" or "Prada". Yet somehow, the book succeeds at being smart, hilarious, and emotionally moving. Here are some choice lines that I marked with post-its. I need to dissect the voice more thoroughly. Writing quotes helps me determine what I like and why I like it:

"As soon as Skip clears out this guy Chuck Harnist sits down and starts hitting on me. Like an idiot I slept with him and now he thinks I can stand the sight of him. Not that he's bad looking, he could probaby stand in for Tom Cruise, but when he opens his mouth he makes you wish you carried a roll of electrical tape in your purse," (p. 105).

"What are the three greatest lies in the world? 1) the check is in the mail 2) I promise I won't come in your mouth, and what's the third?" (p. 108, and you've got to read to the end of the novel to find out the 3rd lie).

"'Will you call me?' he goes. I don't say anything. I just shrug like, if it occurs to me in the course of my incredibly busy social whirl and my active and fulfilling sex life, maybe, possibly, if I'm near a phone at the time and there is nothing good on TV. The thing about acting is, if you're good, you should be able to get all of that in a shrug. I think I did," (p. 113).

"...It reminds me of this thing I saw in book of photos from Life magazine, this picture of a car parked on the street, the roof of the car molded around the body of a girl who'd jumped from the Empire State Building. She was wearing a long billowing skirt that fanned out like a huge lily across the top of the car, the kind of dress you'd wear to a ball or a fancy dinner, she was lying face down so you didn't necessarily figure out what was wrong at first, it was as if she was resting or floating in a pool..." (p. 138).

"I'm getting this really weird feeling, like, I'm so involved with all of this hysterical noise which is supposedly my life but it doesn't add up to anything, if you step back far enough it's just a dumb buzz like a swarm of mosquitoes," (p. 147).

"I tell her she knows my feelings about marriage, I mean it probably works for people with really low expectations and about zero self-esteem, but show me a happy marriage and I'll show you one fool and one hypocrite. Like, I've got a late meeting tonight, honey, don't wait up for me. Okay, darling, don't work too hard," (p. 175).