Donald Trump

Let’s Pull a Tulsa* on John Bolton’s Book

I surely agree that John Bolton is a hypocrite and a traitor for refusing to testify at the impeachment hearings of Donald Trump so that his book, when it came out months later, would be seen as fresh and explosive and earn him a reported $2-million advance.

But for me the larger and more delicious story lies with the role of his publisher, Simon & Schuster.

First, we know that Bolton is almost as big a blowhard as Donald Trump, not to mention a pigheaded warmonger who’s wanted to play king years before he was ever appointed as the bellicose toady in the White House.

So let’s not fall for Bolton’s claim that he himself decided not to testify because “It wouldn’t have done any good.”  That was never the reason.  Bolton yearned for his own bully pulpit to teach the world his kill-‘em-all foreign policy. The impeachment trial would have given him that rare chance while he stabbed the president in the back and front as his duty called for.

And I bet as far as Bolton was concerned, his new memoir – a diary of tidbits parading as an honest work of disclosure  — would have sold fine anyway. People will buy anything with the kind of suspense and expectation that’s been orchestrated since the Bolton-book rumors started circulating.

Plus if Bolton had testified, enough time would have elapsed between his sworn statements and his book’s publication date to give him a second shot at the spotlight. There he could have portrayed himself as a national hero for speaking out at the impeachment trial while duty again called him to knife the president front and back a second time.

So my question is this: Who was it who convinced John Bolton not to be the star of the impeachment hearings? Who was it who must have said,

Oh, no John: If you want our money, shut up until we tell you to speak, and by the way your book is crap by anyone’s standards.  We know it’s crap because after all, we’re your publisher.

Why, Simon & Schuster must have persuaded Mr. Bigmouth (not Trump, the other one) to stay silent until publication, thus disallowing  the world a glimpse at some really awful truths at a critical time.

But here is my issue: The role of a publisher is to do the opposite of Twitter — to responsibly represent, through a fully integrated work in print, what the author wants to say. I have no problem with a publisher signing this clown Bolton on. If his book looks like thoughts written on the backs of toilet-paper squares, no problem – that’s probably the real John Bolton, anyway.

But the corollaries to that principle are tough. Once committed, the publisher owes the work at least three things:  the largest possible audience, the most expeditious timing for release, and a promotional campaign that best suits the sales of the book. You just can’t question those kinds of priorities.

So this is my question: If I were S&S, for the sake of the book and the huge advance that must be earned back by sales, would I have done the same thing?

First I’d have to acknowledge that larger priorities do exist. For example, I’d have a hard time, morally speaking, paying millions of dollars to someone like Harvey Weinstein, say, or that weasel Jared Kushner, for the rights to publish their books.

No house ever has to agree with every author it publishes – but it does have to believe in and support its publication, and that’s not such a fine line.  Just this March the staff of Hachette Book Group walked out in protest of Woody Allen’s work-in-progress, and won: Four days after it announced  the memoir’s publication, Hachette cancelled it The house cancelled Allen’s memoir, Apropos of Nothing, four days after it had announced the book’s publication.

With Bolton’s book, I’d like to think I would have sat John Bolton down and said, Look, we both know what’s the right thing for you to do here: testify now in the impeachment trial, and when your book is published, we’ll promote the hell out of secrets you didn’t disclose. The book’s sales will take a hit, so let’s cut the advance to one million dollars and see what happens.

It’s not that Bolton is so principled he’d go along – his morality seems to be hidden behind those Weapons of Mass Destruction he never found in Iraq.  But he is a practical guy who knows he’ll never get a job in government again, so I bet taking the $2 mill and staying away from Congress was always the chosen path for John.  If the publisher got all uppity about his choices, you just know some other corporate opportunist would come a’knockin’.

So far, I’ve loved reading books about the inner workings of the Trump administration because they’re so funny, unfortunately in a gallows humor sort of way. Each one more self-serving than the other, they tell us about the chaos that reigns in the Oval Office while smarmy loyalists like Stephen Miller scheme in the background doing Trump’s dirty work. Somewhere between elements of Shakespeare and Cruella de Vil, we get glimpses of the truth, which has to be enough for now.

But I hope that people pull a Tulsa* on Bolton’s book by showing early interest and —  really, come on, you guys! as that energetic grandmother said on Facebook — never showing up.

By the way, if you find that illegal PDF edition that’s been floating around the Internet, try not to fall for that, either.  Reading any pirated work supports a vast system that jeopardizes the rights of all authors.

* “pull a Tulsa” — a refreshingly coordinated insurgence on TikTok that called for viewers to reserve tickets for Trump’s rally in Tulsa, Oklahoma, on Saturday, but not attend. So many expressed interest that Trump predicted overflow crowds of 100,000, and was surprised, irked, deflated, impatient, undone, furious, disappointed, exhausted and immediately scheming (see photo) when only 6,200 showed up.

She’s Our Gladiator

I’ve never read a book by a woman with so much male ego as Settle for More (Harper) by former Fox TV News anchor Megyn Kelly (who’s soon to go to NBC).

On the cover of “Settle for More”

Confident and inspired even in childhood, little Megyn radiates entitlement as she asks the universe, What greatness does my future have in store? (my paraphrase). How will my inner gifts define my destiny?

Learning that girls’ baseball teams don’t exist in her neighborhood, Megyn tells her mother to sign her up for boys’ baseball with no fuss or fights or lawsuits (yet).

She has her vulnerable moments, too. There was a time in school when she was bullied by very cruel kids. But today, Megyn thinks it was a good thing. It toughened her. “Adversity is an opportunity,” she tells us, “and one that has allowed me to flourish. It has made me stronger, my skin a little thicker.

When Megyn Kelly becomes one of a few women attorneys hired by a prestigious law firm, she refuses to copy case files. It’s not fair, she writes, to charge the client an associate’s fee when a paralegal can do it. What she means: I didn’t compete my ass off in law school to stand in front of a Xerox machine.

Those tight tight tight cocktail dresses

Overall, her mantra — “I never say no to hard work— serves Kelly well as she carves out her path to Fox TV News. We see her prepping hard for interviews into the wee hours, dressing for combat in her fashionable, tight tight tight cocktail dresses. Kelly rises quickly to become the King of TV News with “the most successful news show in all of cable.”

Now readers, please don’t confuse matters by asking, Shouldn’t a woman be called the queen instead of the king in all of cable? Goodness, no. Power has no gender for Megyn Kelly, who with her Womb of Steel seems to have conceived and delivered three children by herself. No wonder their names — Thatcher, Yardley and Yates — sound vaguely like fancy soaps from a hotel called Downton Abbey.

It’s no wonder, too, that Megyn Kelly refuses to be called a feminist. What does being a woman have to do with ambition? She advises women, “the less time talking about our gender, the better.” Take the other path: “Be so good they can’t ignore you,” as a poster advised her news team at their pod at Fox.

Kelly says she wasn’t bothered a bit when an executive showed her into an office decorated with photos of nude women. Quoting Gwyneth Paltrow, who’s said that modern women can be “nurturing, maternal, sexual,” — Megyn Kelly says she, too, can be “playful and sexy,” as she was for GQ Magazine, or when she appeared “sophisticated and feminine” on the cover of Vanity Fair, or when she answered questions about her bra cup size and sex life during pregnancy on the icky Howard Stern radio program. “Even during the third trimester?” he asks as she sits there forcing a smile. Oh yes, that and more, she tells him, but in a YouTube clip she looks more like a sex slave than a news professional.

Sexy and playful in GQ magazine

All that is simply contributing to “a new archetype for women,” she writes, “that thankfully we’re seeing more often: multidimensional.” Or more testosteronal, or something. “I had just one path forward,” she writes.

How do we know this is true? Because Megyn Kelly seems fated to become the one journalist to stand up to Donald Trump in that male-to-male way he can’t tolerate, especially since it comes from a woman.

Seeing her rise at Fox, Trump first tries to woo her with gifts (Megyn returns them), flowers (she refuses them), even a vow to pay for a weekend she spent with girlfriends at the Trump Hotel (she pays it herself).

And so he gets miffed when Kelly is the only news anchor at Fox to realize that it’s wrong for a news program to cover “Trump being Trump: unscripted, unguarded, and fun to watch,” meaning not newsworthy. Too much of that Trump, she realizes, is the equivalent of “television crack cocaine.”

Giving Trump air time might raise ratings, she says, but featuring the crack cocaine Trump on a news show before the Republican primaries became a “questionable choice.” With Tom Lowell, her executive producer, Kelly issues a new directive — “no more gratuitous Trump coverage.”

Mr. “Television Crack Cocaine”

So that’s good, right? It shows us that Megyn Kelly has standards. Running clips of Trump actually saying something substantive, news-wise, is “a call to remember our journalistic duty, to provide balance and be judicious in our coverage, not to sell our souls for ratings or for our own entertainment.” But there is a price: When she makes sure that her own show, The Kelly File, sticks to that kind of hard news, Trump is furious.

This is where the book turns into a real surprise. For the first time that I know of, we learn the extraordinary lengths to which Trump goes to malign, ridicule and demean Kelly behind the scenes as well as in public; the phone calls he makes to Fox’s chiefs, including his pal, the now-fallen CEO Roger Ailes, to get her removed from the network’s host team at the Republican debates; the Tweets and e-mails he sends out to stir up his followers, who in turn bombard Kelly with hate mail, death threats and obscene texts.

Kelly refuses to relent, and the scary stuff gets worse — cars showing up at her house, strangers approaching her mother, retweets (by Trump Organization VP Michael Cohen) of a Trump supporter saying “we can gut her” — and soon Fox hires body guards for the whole family. When Trump tells her he knows about the top-secret question she’s planning to ask him at the first Republican debate (“You’ve called women you don’t like ‘fat pigs,’ ‘dogs,’ ‘slobs’ and ‘disgusting animals’ … “), she realizes he’s infiltrated Fox with undercover spies, and they’re targeting her.

“You’ve called women you don’t like ‘fat pigs’…”

But wait: Is Trump also capable of dirty tricks? On the morning of the first debate, a suspicious case of food poisoning (apparently from the cup of coffee brought to her by an unknown driver) nearly sends Kelly to the hospital. She recovers in time for the broadcast, where she asks Trump the question about women, and after that, he famously goes on the attack: “You could see there was blood coming out of her eyes, blood coming out of her wherever.”

More than demeaning Kelly, the comment reveals to millions that Trump is disgusted by natural functions of women’s bodies (Hillary urinating, Kelly menstruating). But he seems to think all men feel that way, so he uses it as bait.

“Trump wanted me to respond, so he got worse,” she writes, “I was a woman with power and couldn’t be brought to heel. I think he believed I could help or hurt him more than Anderson Cooper or Chuck Todd, both of whom also covered Trump with skepticism.”

Kelly “takes the high road” by following a “policy of dignity,” and remains silent. Reporters, however, dog her with questions about her “feud” with Trump. Again Kelly seems capable of focusing on the principle at stake. “I was still covering the news, but I was also being covered. Although I did nothing to stoke or even respond to it, the Trump-vs.-Me storyline was still regularly in the press.”

This is her hard-won truth: When a reporter gets in the way of the story — and in Kelly’s case becomes the story — legitimate news suffers. Kelly insists on following her goal: “To cover Trump fairly and without fear.”

Out and about with husband Doug and kids

We get the feeling that Fox would have loved Kelly to appear victimized by Trump, but she sees the damage starting when her young daughter tells her, “I’m afraid of Donald Trump. He wants to hurt me.” That’s enough for Kelly. She vows to put a stop to it.

How Kelly confronts Donald Trump personally without telling the Fox bosses makes for an eye-opening chapter. But doubly intriguing is the way she finally acknowledges that for years, Fox CEO Roger Ailes was guilty of sexual harassment.

It ranged from inappropriate jokes and comments about her bra size to chasing her around his office and demanding sexual favors. Facing that familiar dilemma — blow the whistle and get labeled a troublemaker; keep quiet and he’ll get worse — Kelly talks to “a supervisor” who seems to help Ailes see the error of his ways. For the next ten years, “Roger never sexually harassed me again.”

Roger Ailes, after chasing Kelly around the desk

Kelly, then, could keep quiet when allegations by other women at Fox begin to surface. But realizing how precarious their jobs become when Ailes lines up supporters to defend him, Kelly the Gladiator — the Fox star who’s so established she can’t be fired — is born.

It’s Kelly who makes the call to the Rupert Murdoch second-in-command (his son Lachlan) and says, “You need to get your general counsel on the phone. I have something to tell you.” And it’s Kelly’s testimony that pretty much cinches Ailes’ resignation.

I’m not a fan of Fox News so I never saw Kelly in action until I looked up a few of her interviews on YouTube. Heavens. She has an irritating habit of interrupting and arguing when she should be listening and guiding the conversation for the sake of viewer clarity. So it will be refreshing, I hope, to see what Megyn Kelly will do when, freed from the conservative hijinks of Fox News, she takes the reins in a more professional way at NBC.

I finished Settle for More still laughing at Kelly’s king-sized ego, but I came to admire her, too. She believes in her principles as honestly as her ambitions, and she’s got an iron will that functions as delicately as a Sherman Tank.

That’s what we need and should demand from every journalist in the next four years.