So I just killed two minutes taking Mental Floss’ Judy Blume quiz and scored a respectable 82 percent—although I think I would have scored higher had there not been any questions about the slightly younger skewing books like Blubber and the Fudge series. I was more of a Deenie, Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, and Forever fan, you know, because of the masturbation and scoliosis themes. Anyhoo, how’d you do? [Mental Floss]

Alan Wieder is not embarrassed to talk about his wang. In fact, he’s written an entire memoir about getting to know his … er … penis better. Year of the Cock: The Remarkable True Account of a Man Who Left His Wife and Paid the Price chronicles the year (ironically, the year of the rooster—hee hee) that Alan decided to follow his little head on a destructive journey. He packed up his things and moved out of his home, ready to pursue his fantasy of becoming a hardcore bachelor. During this premature mid-life crisis, he buys a vintage Porsche, bangs lot o’ chicks, and becomes obsessed with the size of his member. I know what you’re thinking. What a jerk! Why would I want to spend 300 pages reading about penile insecurity? Because Alan’s hilarious and, somehow, his year of cockiness is refreshing. Trust me, you’ll laugh too hard to judge him.

You can tell a lot about a book by the first sentence. And the first sentence of Jodie Sweetin’s memoir is pretty telling: “F**k it” (only without the astericks). You probably remember Jodie as Stephanie Tanner on “Full House,” the middle sister with blonde hair who had perfected the art of wearing a scrunchie. So when she popped out of obscurity in 2006 and appeared on “Good Morning America” to reveal that she was a recovering coke and meth addict, it was pretty shocking. Turns out, it was only half true—she was an addict, but she was hardly recovered. She had a serious relapse, even as she began touring the country and warning college students about the dangers of drugs. Next Tuesday, Jodie’s memoir Unsweetined comes out, and finally she’s ready to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And it’s pretty gritty. Read an excerpt after the jump.

Ever since her husband began campaigning for the presidency, Michelle Obama has been in the spotlight—and so has her closet. Mrs. O documents the first lady’s wardrobe on the campaign trail and in the White House with more than 120 photographs. Close-ups of Jimmy Choo pumps, Erickson Beamon brooches, Maria Pinto dresses, and more show how the pieces come together to create Michelle’s signature style. [$17.15, Amazon.com]

WIN IT! We’re giving away five copies of Mrs. O: The Face of Fashion Democracy, but you have to work if you want one. The five best commenters for this coming week—from today, Friday, Oct. 23 through Thursday, Oct. 29—will be awarded with one. So, be as clever, smart, and original as you can! Click HERE to read the official rules.

So maybe I would go to former sitcom star Suzanne Somers for advice about how to shape up my thighs (remember the Thigh Master?), but certainly not for tips about how to help cure cancer. In her new book, Knockout: Interviews With Doctors Who Are Curing Cancer And How To Prevent It In The First Place (it’s her 19th book … I know ... what the heck is she writing about?), Suzanne is making some outrageous claims that are making people at the American Cancer Society outraged.

“Mad Men” acolytes with eagle eyes might’ve noticed that the book Betty Draper brought into the tub with her on last night’s episode was none other than The Group by Mary McCarthy. Published in 1963 but set in the 1930s, The Group is a subtly scathing portrait of a circle of educated, upwardly mobile New York society women who all went to Vassar College—at the time more of a finishing school than a bastion of liberal education – together. The book follows these eight frenemies as their lives unfold and unravel after graduation, seeing them through abusive marriages, extra-marital affairs, birth control, familial conflict, class war, Communist sympathies, lesbianism, suicide and the ever-elusive female orgasm.

People magazine will release a “New Moon” special to the ravenous, adoring masses tomorrow. The tween girl set will dutifully purchase it, their mothers will surreptitiously steal it, and every dude will hate it. We’ve told you why chicks dig vampires and men don’t, while Esquire says it’s because the vamps are batting for the other team, but this doesn’t begin to cover it. Men, well, straight men have hated vampires since Bram Stoker—they’re hardwired for it.

Whenever I’m going through an existential crisis, reading a great book usually helps. Clearly, 46-year-old Nina Sankovitch of Connecticut understands the profound satisfaction that can be found from sitting down with a good read. She’s close to finishing a mission to read one book every day for a year and blog about it. Yes! Every. Single. Day. Even holidays. She may be my new hero. 

Our friends at Nerve have an excerpt from the latest book by Frank Warren of PostSecret fame: PostSecret: Confessions on Life, Death, and God. If you’re not familiar with PostSecret, it’s a website where readers submit homemade postcards that reveal their most intimate confessions. In a slide show, Nerve has selected some of the best of the bunch, many of them focusing on relationships, with confessions ranging from happy masturbation fantasies to wishing one’s ex dead. [Nerve]

For your enjoyment, here is an excerpt from Johnny Depp and Ami Angelowicz: Fever in France:

“Mon Ami.” “Bizou Johnny.” Ami dismounts her little yellow bicycle and Johnny follows. Tired from a day of cycling about town—Museé Rodin, Tour Eiffel, crêpes de sucre, and passionate kisses on Rive Gauche—Ami finally collapses in the pristine Parisian grass of the Jardin de Luxembourg, stretching and soaking in the fall sun. Johnny opens the picnic basket he has been carrying on his handlebars all day. “Madame ... ” he gestures to an unopened bottle of wine ready to serve. “Wine for the lady?” It’s a fine deep red.

OK, so maybe I don’t have a future as a writer of romantic novels (and pardon my French, by the way), but I just got so carried away imagining a page from my soon-to-be published, customized erotic novel created by UStar Books and Novels. Yes, correct. You can create a novel starring you tailor-made to contain all of your most personal tastes and erotic desires. So perfect because it appeals to my romanticism and narcissism, all at once!

There are few things that I love more than history and fashion, but I don’t have the vintage shopping budget of Rachel Zoe or the means to visit every fashion history exhibit worldwide. Fortunately, the London Design Museum is bringing the fashion history to me and everyone else. Fifty Dresses that Changed The World and Fifty Shoes that Changed The World, due out Nov. 1, present a guided tour of how iconic shoes and dresses have impacted our society and fashion design. The little black dress didn’t become a must-have garment for just any reason. And cork platform shoes might not have been invented if it weren’t for Mussolini’s invasion of Ethiopia in 1935. Don’t think of these two books as simple encyclopedias because they’re much more sacred than that. With all the fashion history they explore, these books deserve their own spot on your fashion altar right next to the fashion bible—Vogue magazine. [Pipeline]

Kind of ironic, huh? A book called Hungry that I just ate right up as quickly as I could. But model Crystal Renn‘s autobiography is that good. Seriously, I could not put down Hungry: A Young Model’s Story of Appetite, Ambition, and the Ultimate Embrace of Curves for two days straight.

In her incredible memoir, written with former Sassy health editor Marjorie Ingall, Crystal shares how she was just a teen girl living with her grandmother in Clinton, Mississippi, when a modeling scout changed her life. The scout approached her at a charm school class and said Crystal could be just like Gisele Bundchen if she wanted to—meaning, she had to take off a lot of weight. Over the next several months, a 165-pound Crystal became anorexic, starving herself so she could drop 70 pounds and become a “straight-size” model.

HarperCollins has released the first image of Sarah Palin’s memoir, Going Rogue: An American Life. [USA Today]

In case you haven’t noticed, we give a lot of free stuff to you, our lovely readers. The time has come to announce the winners of two of our giveaways. Keep reading to see if you’re victorious. Then, if you are, email contests@thefrisky.com to claim your prize!

Great news for all you folks who were terrified that you’d have to wait until the spring to read Sarah Palin‘s memoir—HarperCollins has decided to move the release date to November 17. [Happy Birthday, Me!—Editor] That’s right, pitbull hockey moms, only two months and 18 days until you can read it! The book now also has a title, Going Rogue: An American Life, a nod to what a McCain aide said she was doing during last year’s election. Palin collaborated on the book with World editor Lynn Vincent, and reportedly reeled in $7 million smackeroos for her effort. She said she felt it was important to tell her own story since “there have been so many things written and said through mainstream media that have not been accurate.” Though I think it’d be pretty funny if it turned out to be sci-fi/fantasy with her as the star. [Reuters]

Did you know that, every now and then, Twilight author Stephenie Meyer writes about non-vampires? Last year, she released “The Host,” which was billed as her first adult novel, though it apparently has about the same set of readers. And while it’s not about vamps, there is still some parasitic feasting on pretty girls, this time by an alien species that is romantically overwhelmed by said girls’ capacity for emotion. The book didn’t get nearly as much play as anything “Twilight”-related, but that all may change now that “The Host” is being turned into a movie.

After years of watching political wives stand by their man when their men had not only not stood by them but lay down with other women, Jenny Sanford was a breath of fresh air. After hearing about her husband’s dalliances with an Argentine mistress (and his adoration of her tan lines), Jenny tried to forgive her husband. “But we reached a point where I felt it was important to look my sons in the eyes and maintain my dignity, self-respect, and my basic sense of right and wrong,” she said in a statement. “I therefore asked my husband to leave two weeks ago.” It’s a decision she’s stuck by. Now Jenny will be writing a memoir about her experience, to be published next May by Ballantine Books. Of the book, Jenny says, “I would like to show others how important it is to stand firm on one’s principles, stay true to oneself, and respond with grace and honesty to whatever hurdles may come.” The best part of this news? That Mark Sanford had a book in the works which his publisher nixed when the affair scandal broke. Oops. [Galleycat]

OK people, fess up. You’ve read a Sweet Valley High book. Some of you may have breezed through all 152 tomes, while others of you may have stopped in for classics like Elizabeth’s Super-Selling Lemonade or Jessica Quits the Squad. Sure, the series about a pair of blond, Californian twins was no Nancy Drew, but I still adored these books growing up. I always identified with Elizabeth, the older (by four minutes) twin who wrote for the Sweet Valley High newspaper and dreamed of being a journalist, though I definitely had streaks of Jessica, the flighty, boy-crazy twin, too. So I am very excited to tell you that Sweet Valley High is heading for the big screen and ... (wait for it) ... Diablo Cody will be writing the script as well as producing. We hope this means that the tone of the movie will be midway between the saccharine flavor of the original books and the possessed man-eating of “Jennifer’s Body.”

Lately, the politicos have been hitting President Obama with a lot of criticism, and it seems everyone would like to tell our president what to do: “Don’t eat junk food. Junk food makes you fat”; “I know you want to save the earth, but people don’t want to clean”; “You should not smoke when you are president! Because you will die by smoking, and then you will not be president!”

Well, at least, that’s what America’s kids have to say to him, and they do so every day by sending thousands of letters to the White House. Kids’ Letters to President Obama, edited by Bill Adler, compiles 200 of some of the more hilarious notes. Read some selections on McSweeney’s, like our favorite so far:

“Dear President Obama,
I want to tell you hi. Do you work with Santa Claus? Can I meet you in your house? Can I say bye to you after I meet you? And then can I meet you again? And then again after that?

Sergio Magana, age 5
San Francisco”

Cracking up yet? [$15, Barnes & Noble]

Chris Andersen’s biography of the Obamas, Barack and Michelle: Portrait of an American Marriage, comes out today, and in it he dishes on a lot more than the first couple’s date night. According to Andersen, women are constantly rubbing up against Barack, slipping him their digits, and whispering suggestive comments in his ear. “On more than one occasion, Barack tried not to look startled when some random woman in the crowd would grasp him firmly by the derriere—and sometimes try to hold on,” writes Andersen. After one rally on the campaign trail, Barack supposedly said, “Jesus, I wish they’d stop grabbing my ass.”