Tabloid Prodigy: Dishing the Dirt, Getting the Gossip, and Selling My Soul in the Cutthroat World of Hollywood Reporting

Christine Jacques, Special to the Rocky

Published May 18, 2007 at midnight

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• Nonfiction. By Marlise Elizabeth Kast. Running Press, $24.95. Grade: C

Book in a nutshell: A minister's daughter and early college graduate, Kast professes to have had no clue what she was getting her innocent self into when she applied at Globe, a scandal sheet familiar to anyone in a grocery checkout line. Kast quickly gained a reputation for achieving the impossible, such as Carrie Fisher's cell number, and doing the unthinkable, such as pretending to urinate in some bushes while crashing William Shatner's wedding.

But don't lump this Lois Lane with "you insensitive people," as does Chastity Bono when Kast asks for her reaction to her father's death. "You people?" fumes Kast. " How dare (Chastity) throw me into a general tabloid category?" How indeed. Kast is willing to wear a disguise, tell lies, go without sleep and showers for a byline, but, hey, she's no sensationalist.

Pursuing the rich and famous, Kast's family, friends and church often are left behind. But her love for them shines through her clumsy writing and guides her to the eventual decision to leave Globe for the nanny life in Switzerland.

Sample of prose: Analyzing her readers: "Globe's cover price is an inexpensive way to feel better about ourselves. Our own failures become minimized when we see celebrities cry under the spotlight."

Pros: Kast's How I Got Those Stories are the real stars here. By turns, her escapades are unnerving and intriguing, including a lesson in race car driving, running from Bobby Brown's posse, and an interrogation by Egyptian police while running down Matt Lauer. If you've ever wondered how tabloid reporters maintain their self-respect and sense of humor, Tabloid Prodigy is for you.

Cons: The prose reads like a fifth-grade book report, plodding from one adventure to another in overwritten style.

Final word: Some big players for Globe are from the U.K., that sceptered isle ruled by a monarchy generally revered by its subjects. Here in the U.S.A., our royalty hails from Hollywood, and the crown passes from one noble to another faster than you can say Boston Tea Party. From Kast's account of readers' obsessions with both royal famililes, it looks as if they'll continue to reign for years to come.

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