The naked man in full erection who arrives on Sandy’s lawn, like the Ghost of Christmas Future, does indeed “point” the way, as his actions are both metaphoric and prophetic. From her bedroom window, Sandy watches the man, who discards the sheet initially draped over him, masturbates, and then leaves on a motorcycle. He knows she is watching, and she knows he knows. Though the scene is charged with sexual tension, it is at a remove and both inexplicable and random. You won't enjoy this one if you don't take it as a form of humor, and you have to remember that not much is really going to happen action wise. Like most of Blumes stuff it's completely character-focused rather than plot-filled. Sandy is a likeable character and funny...I think I would read and enjoy ANY book Blume wrote because I just dig her style that much. This one was a light, demented read. I have to be clear it wasn't a masterpiece like most of her younger stuff. It is impossible to feel for Sandy or have any type of sympathy for this character at all. Throughout the book, Sandy comes across as being completely wrong. Holden Caufield from The Catcher in the Rye has a similar predicament in characterization, but with one saving grace: Holden is meant to be wrong, the reader is meant to realize Holden is wrong, and before the end, he's called out as being wrong; and because of this flaw, we find a connection to ourselves underneath his elitist attitude. In Sandy's case, even if we are to realize that she is wrong, everyone who calls her wrong is more wrong and messed up than she is. With more than four million copies sold, Wifey is Judy Blume's hilarious, moving tale of a woman who trades in her conventional wifely duties for her wildest fantasies—and learns a lot about life along the way. This book was written in 1978 and I thought it would have more rebellion. I thought Wifey would be busting out of the cage so to speak. Not so much. I wanted way more.

Wifey by Judy Blume - Audiobooks on Google Play Wifey by Judy Blume - Audiobooks on Google Play

This is not that story. I'm not actually sure what this story was and quite frankly wondering if I'm just too stupid to get it because I'm in the minority on this one - people may not love it, but they have found value in it. As for me, I found this to be a colossal waste of time. So much so, that I'd like to rant about it for a minute. Written in the 1970s, Wifey is about Sandy, a wife whose two children are currently away at summer camp and how she fills her time without them at home. Sandy’s husband Norman encourages her to take golf and tennis lessons at the club, and to socialize with the other wives there. Sandy isn’t really interested in these activities but gives them a half-hearted attempt to appease Norman. Things aren’t great in their marriage and Sandy finds herself often thinking about other men. In the introduction, Judy Blume explains that she left her marriage and took her two kids away and sat down after being a best selling children's author and wrote this book. While she says that this story isn't a representation of her own story, I have to wonder what the purpose of this particular book is - it oozes bitterness, discontent and not a single sound choice. It seems odd to me that the woman who made a way for herself to leave an unhappy place would write a book with such a desolate conclusion.I can kind of picture Judy Blume, who did continue to write mildly creepy children's fiction and several other books from grown ups after this one, practically screaming inside because she just can't write another Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing and her marriage is a nightmare and she doesn't know what she wants from like anymore and this all just comes pouring out. Wifey” chronicles one life-changing summer of Sandy Pressman, a 1970s suburban housewife whose predictable existence compels her to make her rich sexual fantasies a reality. now there are some strawberries that have been marinating on the champagne at the bottom of this glass that need my attention... I don’t buy it, though. I just do not believe that people are that boring. I think there is more that is villainous and more that is heroic in every person than Sandy’s outer and inner narratives allow. Honestly, I’ve thought a lot about these inner and outer stories because Sandy is exactly what my mom’s story of herself always was. That’s not to say that it was a revelatory experience to read this book. It was more like a joke I’ve heard so many times that I forget the end is even a punch line. My mom left her Norman and chose her Shep, but that is neither here nor there, really, in the story. ***END SPOILERS*** And I guess that’s my problem. No woman’s story is actually about her relationship to men. When women frame them that way, I think it’s a smoke screen for an inner life of which they are honestly ashamed, or even of which they are so proud and protective that they can’t share it. Blume sets up an outer, Republican Sandy, and an inner, Democrat Sandy, thereby keeping all of her selves shallow and political.

Wifey – Judy Blume on the Web Wifey – Judy Blume on the Web

Sandy Pressman is a nice suburban wife whose boredom is getting the best of her. She could be making friends at the club, like her husband keeps encouraging her to do. Or working on her golf game. Or getting her hair done. Judy received a B.S. in education from New York University in 1961, which named her a Distinguished Alumna in 1996, the same year the American Library Association honored her with the Margaret A. Edwards Award for Lifetime Achievement. Other recognitions include the Library of Congress Living Legends Award and the 2004 National Book Foundation's Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters. November 20 2013: Hmm after my first time reading a Judy Blume novel (in this case Summer Sisters) I had expected a lot of her cause that book was awesome.Though the book has interesting elements that could have been developed further, Blume dithers. Sandy’s actions, like those of her masturbating visitor, are sexually motivated, but random and inexplicable. Sandy recoils when Norman calls her “wifey” on their wedding night, but she acts diminutively, like a little girl. She’s dissatisfied with Norman’s stolid demeanor and his mechanical approach to sex, and she’s dissatisfied with her life. Yet she does little to make any changes, and throughout the book, is acted on rather than acting. Sex comes to her: the masturbating man on the lawn, the man whispering in her ear, the unbidden advances of Gordon (who, as her gynecologist, has admired her little pussy for some time!), and the return of Shep, the man she thinks she should have married. Wifey is the anti-romance. No sympathetic characters, no personal growth, no love, no happy ending.