In the spring of 2004, a Washington D.C. woman was briefly thrust into the spotlight because of the contents of her eponymous blog, The Washingtonienne. We later learned that the Washingtonienne is Jessica Cutler, a staff assistant in the office of Senator Mike DeWine (R-Ohio). Cutler's blog was the scandal of the moment because of her blunt descriptions of sexual exploits with Washington insiders. Her blog was only online for a few weeks before she was outed and fired, but D.C. was abuzz trying to figure out the identities of the men she identified only by initials. Cutler herself was never shy about her blog. She's never named names, but she continued to maintain that the events described in her blog are completely true. (Her blog disappeared during the scandal, but has been archived here.)

A year has passed and Cutler's 15 minutes are long over, but this month saw the release of her debut novel, simply titled The Washingtonienne. I can only assume that the long delay between scandal and novel is due to Ms. Cutler's complete and total lack of writing ability. When I'd first heard about a Washingtonienne novel in the works, I assumed there would be some kind of ghost writer involved. I believed there would have to be some anonymous wordsmith to make Cutler seem like a literary genius. I no longer believe this.

I loved Cutler's blog when it was a current event. How can you not love a blog that imparts such pearls of wisdom as "a man who tries to fuck you in the ass when you are sober does not love you?" I believed that I'd also enjoy her novel. I no longer believe this either.

The book isn't much of a novel. It's more like a memoir. In fact it's really not much more than an expanded version of the blog on which it's based. As far as blogs go, this book would make a very good one. As far as novels go, this book blows.

In her blog, Cutler came off as punkish and arrogant. A lot of us use our blogs to bitch about things, so in that context her arrogance seemed normal, even a little endearing. The expanded narrative in the book makes her seem like the most vacuous human to ever walk the Earth. Having read the blog, I already knew the basic framework of the story. The fact that I liked the story is why I bought the book. The story itself is interesting enough, but Cutler's character is absolutely repellent.

Here are a few quotes that define Jacqueline, Cutler's alter ego:

"I knew something about posing for pictures: I watched America's Next Top Model every week and I owned Zoolander on DVD."

"It was a petty, immature thing to do, but I was a petty, immature person."

"If I wanted to be pragmatic I would have just worked as a call girl."

"Like I would want to snuggle up to an arrogant douchebag who made $30K a year!"

"I had reservations about letting someone from work butt-fuck me, but if he was game, so was I."

"Women! I don't know how men put up with us. Oh, that's right: sex. Otherwise, what good were we?"

" 'It's time to start making big money in the private sector.' With these magic words, Dan suddenly became potential boyfriend material."

"Well, duh, I'm shallow. Look [at the 'Sunday Style' section of the New York Times]. This is the first and only section I read, and I don't even read it, I just look at the pictures."

"Like, duh, of course I was immature: I was half his age! That's why he was fucking me instead of his wife, remember?"

I could go on. And on, and on. Nearly every page brought a quote irritating enough for me to want to cite it. My copy is already dogeared from the dozens of notes I made on every little deplorable detail.

The first three-quarters of the book is almost completely devoted to liquor and sex. Normally these are two of my favorite topics, but they're presented without anything substantial in between. Because there's absolutely no focus on any character other than Jacqueline, I had a difficult time keeping everyone else straight. I could tell you all about a scene, but I couldn't tell you who was in that scene. All the characters were reduced to sets of lewd actions, each indistinguishable from the one before it.

Despite the fact that nearly every word of the 300 pages is devoted to Jacqueline, that character is also surprisingly one-dimensional. She's been distilled so thoroughly, there's nothing left but an appetite for attention that happens to have a name attached. Reading the first three-quarters of the book was unusually laborious given the subject matter. I slogged through it with my eye on the eventual payoff. I imagined a metamorphosis, a life-changing realization, some kind of moral, anything. None of these imaginings ever materialized.

There was one brief moment when Jacqueline and her new therapist seemed on the cusp of doing something that might be satisfying to read. But then the therapist diagnosed depression and proscribed Zoloft. New drugs, same problems. That final 75 pages was especially disappointing when compared to my expectations.

There's nothing to learn in this "novel." There is no greater truth, no wisdom, no insight. The book is basically one very long drunken weekend. In part of the conclusion Jacqueline says, "I was prepared to leave Washington the same way I came: alone, heartbroken, but determined to get the most out of life while I still had time." I would say she's gone full circle, but that's not really true. There's no sense of personal progress at all. In one of the more memorable put-downs a former lover tells her, "You're the same screwed-up train wreck you've always been. Good luck with all that. Just leave me out of it."

Amen, brother.

Update: Wonkette has a new tidbit about The Washingtonienne. As you might imagine, Cutler's getting sued. She was served papers at her book signing. Nice. That must be a publisher's wet dream.

Wonkette also has a link to download a PDF version of the lawsuit. There's some interesting information in there. For example, this book's publisher, Hyperion, is a division of Disney. Sweet! That kind of makes this book Disney porn, doesn't it?

Update 2: Hipster sex writer women dig me for my mad Washingtonienne-bashing skillz. I know this because Lusty Lady at The Village Voice e-mailed me a link to her new column about Jessica Cutler.

True, she probably just Technoratied me and sent a cut-and-paste e-mail, but still, it's The Village Voice. Cool.

Update 3: Lusty Lady's stopped by a few more times. (Yes, hi! I see you. Say hello or something, won't you?) She keeps coming back to this post, so I'm beginning to feel bad that there's nothing new to read. So here's a new link for you all: Lusty Lady interviews Jessica Cutler for Gothamist.