Estimated read time: 3-4 minutes
This archived news story is available only for your personal, non-commercial use. Information in the story may be outdated or superseded by additional information. Reading or replaying the story in its archived form does not constitute a republication of the story.
NEW YORK -- Nora Ephron, the screenwriter and essayist, looks at least a decade younger than her 65 years -- even if her neck isn't what it used to be.
Her neck, past and present, is used as a kind of prop in Ephron's new collection of essays, I Feel Bad About My Neck and Other Thoughts on Being a Woman (Knopf, $19.95). It's mostly about aging, which she hates, and about food and Manhattan, which she loves.
During lunch at a fancy Upper East Side restaurant, Ephron apologizes for the small portions, and she notes that her publisher chose the lunch spot.
She's wearing a pink jacket with an upturned Mandarin collar, "Oriental, or 'Asian' as it's now known," she says.
The collar offers a glimpse of her 65-year-old neck, which would be hidden by a turtleneck if it weren't so hot. "It's not the season for turtlenecks," she says. "I don't know if you boys know that."
In Ephron's title essay, she writes that "the neck starts to go at forty-three, and that's that."
Necks, she adds, can't be helped by makeup, concealer, dye, Botox or Restylane: "Short of surgery, there's not a damn thing you can do about a neck. The neck is a dead giveaway. Our faces are lies and our necks are the truth."
The book, portions of which have appeared in magazines such as The New Yorker and Vogue, is Ephron's version of the truth about being postmenopausal, a wry backlash against those who says it's great to be old.
She's propelled by what she calls "rage," then edits herself: "It's not rage like anger. But things get to me."
About then, the interview is interrupted by an Ephron moment: "I'm sure your iced tea will arrive someday," she says dryly.
Later, she suggests: "Shall we order? Not that anyone has asked us."
As a screenwriter, Ephron is best known for romantic comedies, When Harry Met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle (which she also directed), and Heartburn, which was based on her thinly disguised novel about her marriage to the philandering Carl Bernstein of Watergate reporting fame.
Of Heartburn, she says, "A lot of it actually happened, a lot of it didn't, but the thing itself -- that happened." The thing being her Bernstein's affair while she was pregnant.
She adds: "The thing about Heartburn is that it's really funny. I have a lot of friends who never get to that moment looking back at their divorces. They remain victims for years and years."
As a writer, Ephron says, she always tries to be funny: "Otherwise it sounds like you're giving a speech -- and no one will listen."
That's not to say "that I can't write about serious things." One of her essays deals with the death of her best friend at age 66. Another is a liberal's critique of Bill Clinton written in the voice of a betrayed lover.
For 19 years, Ephron has been married to writer Nicholas Pileggi (Goodfellas). They occasionally and informally edit each other's writing but have never collaborated, which "may be the secret to our marriage."
Her next project is finishing a screenplay based on Julie and Julia, Julie Powell's memoir about attempting to conquer every recipe in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. "It's about food and it's about love. It seemed right up my alley."
And with that, Ephron insists on ordering and sharing three small scoops of ice cream, but not before complaining how restaurants have replaced teaspoons with soup spoons, no matter how small the portions.
"What I want to know," she asks, "is what's wrong with a teaspoon?'
To see more of USAToday.com, or to subscribe, go to http://www.usatoday.com
© Copyright 2006 USA TODAY, a division of Gannett Co. Inc.