The Magical Mystical World of Jane (Or How to Beat Martha Stewart)

I love Martha Stewart. I really do. Really. I read her magazine, buy her books, and watch her television show. I order things from her catalog. But no matter how much I read, watch or spend, I know that I will never be her. Never. It isn’t for the lack of trying. She makes being perfect look so easy. Of course, Ginger Rogers made dancing with Fred Astaire look easy too, but I never, ever once imagined that I ever could pull that off. That was fantasy, and I knew it. But not with Martha. I’ve been watching Martha and her friends prepare for Thanksgiving all week. They’ve stuffed, boned, blackened and garnished — almost makes me think I could do it. And that’s the trouble with Martha. She seems so real. The only way you can tell that she...