Mandy Stadtmiller’s brutally honest and delightfully salacious memoir, UNWIFEABLE, is the picture of one woman’s journey–no matter how self-destructive–to find love. (But don’t worry! It has an HEA for all you romance fans out there.) You won’t be able to put it down once you start it…and you can start it now, with this excerpt!


Where Does Pursuing an A-List Love Triangle Leave You? Alone, Actually.

In 2010 I start dating three men in media and celebrity who were all strangely interconnected—Aaron Sorkin, Keith Olbermann, and Lloyd Grove.

I first met the screenwriter behind The Social Network at the New York Film Festival’s opening-night party, where I spotted him surrounded and literally dodged and weaved his assistant then reached out to shake his hand.

“Oh, I kind of screwed that up,” I said, laughing.

“Should we do it again?” Sorkin asked.

“Well, we could do the Bill Clinton double handshake,” I said, imitating that. “Or the really creepy handshake.”

Then I wiggled my finger into his palm. And handed him my card. Mandy Stadtmiller, General Assignment Reporter, New York Post.

I got an email about an hour later—from Sorkin.

“Mandy, I’m really sorry I couldn’t answer your questions tonight,” he wrote. “I hope you had a good time at the movie and the party and I hope I get to see you soon.”

I also met Lloyd Grove, who had been for a long time the Daily News’s answer to Richard Johnson.

A few days after that, at another media-entertainment party, I recognized another famous familiar face.

“Hey, Keith!” I yelled, and Olbermann turned around.

In the meantime, Grove asked me out, and he told me all about interviewing Sorkin, which led to raised voices and tensions.  I emailed Sorkin, feeling like I was the cleverest person on the planet, writing, “I hear there was yelling? Sounds exciting . . .”

Sorkin replied, “Ah Mandy, Mandy, Mandy—if we were on a date and off the record, I would tell you all about it, but since we’re neither, all I can say . . . ‘What yelling?’ ”

“But I’m like the queen of off the record,” I wrote back.

“And I’m the king of getting my ass kicked by Page Six,” he replied.

With all this potential for self-created drama in dating, I had found my new addiction.

When I told Olbermann that I couldn’t see him anymore because I was going to be dating Grove exclusively, Olbermann replied, “Good grief, my mortal enemy.”

Grove and I eventually broke up, and it wasn’t long before I was back to my old attempted love-triangle ways and dating Olbermann again. When I did it this time, though, I dangled this fact to Sorkin, who replied, “I’m glad you had a good time with Keith, but I’m better.”

Olbermann, who initially told me he liked Sorkin, reversed his opinion severely after The Newsroom premiered and words he said to Sorkin were used in the show.

There were several surreal moments during this era. I was aware, for instance, that Sorkin was spotted out with Kristin Davis (who played Charlotte on Sex and the City) around the time I was also seeing him on and off every few months. When Sorkin invited me to his mansion above the Sunset Strip to watch The Newsroom premiere with him, I cockily texted several girlfriends, “I’ve never felt more Samantha!”

Or when he created a character in The Newsroom based on one of our dates where I bemoaned to him over dinner about having to excoriate a celebrity as part of my job, Sorkin emailed me later from LA about the role our date played in an upcoming episode of The Newsroom.

“THIS CHARACTER IS NOT YOU,” he said right off the top. “In fact, in the writers’ room, when talking about this story, we call the character ‘Bad Mandy’ (as opposed to real Mandy) because I haven’t named her yet. I thought it was worth re-emphasizing that.”

Meanwhile, dating Olbermann was equally surreal.

When I told him about fighting with one of my bosses at the Post, he laughed and said it was like looking at a reflection in the mirror in terms of the burning-bridges tendency. When we went back to his apartment, I got a small glimpse of his truly amazing baseball memorabilia collection, with an original piece of a now-torn-down baseball field set up right inside his apartment.

Less surreal—and more expected—was Olbermann’s inevitable expression of distaste for me. Not me personally, of course, but just why he unfollowed me on Twitter.

“I’m not prudish,” he said, “but the tweets lately have really pushed against my ‘line’ for good/bad taste.”

Yeah—I get that a lot. But oh man, such good stories.

You know what’s great to cuddle with at night? Stories.

 

Condensed, edited and excerpted from Unwifeable, which is now available from retailers everywhere.