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
Results 1-5 of 7
... hard to think of someone more at ease in the world of modern sin than Tony Hendra . " Modern sin ? At ease ? Did the reviewer really have any idea the na- ture of my father's sins ? The book indeed was a biography - of sorts - about a ...
... hard being called " Judy Christmas . " As I told my mother during one of my more obnoxious moments as a teenager , it seemed a name more suitable for a stripper than for an intellectually gifted and talented girl like my mom , who ...
... hard to tell with him . Like the other night when the police had pulled us over for speeding . The cop shone a flashlight in the back seat of the car and told my father to take the " little girls home . " When the officer walked away ...
... hard wooden floor of the living room . Kathy and I were to have one of the upstairs rooms as our bed- room . It had two windows : one that overlooked the back lawn and another that gave us a view over the road and into the maple and oak ...
... hard to tell who exactly were the grownups . But , of course , the house took us in , silent , solid , ancient - sheltering a young family that , unlike it , was anything but stable . Kathy and I spent what was left of the summer of ...