How to Cook Your Daughter: A MemoirHarper Collins, 6. okt 2009 - 288 pages From the daughter of the bestselling author of Father Joe: the poignant and ultimately hopeful memoir of a young girl’s struggle to live a normal childhood in the chaotic seventies, and to overcome sexual abuse by her famous father After more than thirty years of silence, Hendra has decided to reveal the truth. In this poignant memoir, she reveals the full story behind the New York Times article that rocked the world and detailed her father’s crimes. But Jessica’s story is no footnote to her father’s story. No One Was Listening is also the inspiring story of her own journey, and how she was finally able to find healing within, after years of struggling with anorexia, bulimia, and low self-esteem. Set against the backdrop of the chaotic seventies, Hendra’s memoir follows Jessica and her sister Kathy as they strove to make a normal life for themselves amidst the madness, sex, and drug abuse that her parents and their friends—many of the household names in the world of show business—participated in. No One Was Listening reveals the hope and heartache of a young girl who was faced with a loss of innocence at an early age, who faced a slow and painful recovery, and who finally found contentment and peace within. |
From inside the book
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... felt beneath her nightie . That had explored a little girl . They reminded me of my father's hands . Of course they couldn't be his , I thought . He wouldn't have volun- teered to dress up for the cover just to save the modeling fee ...
... felt as though he was trying to tell me something without really wanting to say it . " I know you said your dad was writing a book about a priest , " he said , " but this book ... well , it sounds like a confessional . " " A what ...
... felt awful . I was almost forty , but I had become that little girl again- vulnerable , anxious , and lost . My feelings about my father had been in remission . I was happily married with two wonderful daughters . I'd beaten an eating ...
... felt he deserved . Years ago , when their accents hadn't yet dulled from decades of living in the United States , my parents ' voices fell somewhere between the Rolling Stones and the royal fam- ily . Now , his voice had mellowed , like ...
... felt as though my dad had left me another message , this one long , involved , and unavoidable . I needed to know whether something beneath those folded hands might somehow help me finally understand him , whether something in those ...