The Gift of Jazzy

December 16, 2002
Some writers are so careful with their prose that it seems each sentence has been crafted with a thoughtful combination of precision and grace. Then there's Cindy Adams. A New York Post
columnist for 20 years, Adams is like a slap where a kiss is expected; she doesn't want to build a house of words—she wants to blow one down. And huff and puff she does in this small memoir about receiving a Yorkshire terrier as a gift after her husband's death. After explaining why she named the dog "Jazzy" (because of his frantic, jazzed-up energy), Adams details the pup's tendency to piddle on clothes and his propensity for getting Adams into tricky situations, e.g., getting locked into a hallway with Imelda Marcos. Delivered with Adams's rapid-fire, detail-free style, these adventures are wearying at first, but the book begins to do to the reader what the dog, predictably, does to its owner: charms through sheer force of will and sweet bumbling. Although Adams chronicles what it's like to be a new widow, she also recognizes the absurdity of finding comfort in a teensy dog that likes bones from Gallagher's steakhouse and drinks Poland Spring in a posh New York apartment. This self-consciousness, mixed with Adams's descriptions of truly humorous incidents, make the book a guilty little treat, gobbled up in one bite on those nights when all that carefully crafted prose seems a bit too thoughtful, and decidedly unjazzy. (Feb. 14)Forecast:Blurbs from Rosie O'Donnell ("Two paws up!"), Liz Smith, Judge Judy and others will jazz up sales for this one, as will a national author tour.

April 7, 2003
New York Post
gossip columnist Adams knows nothing about dog care, nor does she care to learn. But when her husband dies and a friend (Michael Viner, head of New Millennium Press) gives her a Yorkshire terrier as a bereavement gift, Adams is forced to confront the ins and outs of owning a pup. For a time, Jazzy (so named because of his frantic energy) is nothing but a pain in the neck, wreaking havoc on Adams's posh uptown apartment and driving the newspaperwoman insane. But after awhile, the furry little critter begins to grow on her, and Adams finds herself head over heels for Jazzy. She reads this trifle of a book with gusto, effortlessly cooing Jazzy's nicknames ("Jazzy-poo," for one) and imitating his little bark. Adams and Jazzy have run-ins with everyone from Imelda Marcos to Sylvester Stallone to Manuel Noriega (usually Jazzy does something to embarrass his owner in the presence of luminaries), and there's enough name-dropping here to choke, well, a small animal. Still, celebrity-related anecdotes aside, Adams is undeniably funny. Her voice alternates between the desperately breathless (as when she's trying to get the dog some Pepto Bismol for an upset stomach) to the angry (as when she's letting Jazzy have it for misbehaving). Yorkie lovers and gossip hounds will get a kick out of this unusual audiobook. Simultaneous release with the St. Martin's hardcover (Forecasts, Dec. 16, 2002).