She tweeted her fear five, ten, fifteen times a day. (Sometimes she just responded to Mr. Trump’s tweets and scored likes and retweets for her snappy responses.) She replied to journalists and posted links to their stories. Conservative commentator Bill Kristol hired her to write for his site The Bulwark. She traveled on her own money to cover Trump rallies and conservative conferences, mingling with the network of reporters she cultivated online.
She turned her lack of reporting expertise into an asset, leaving complex political analysis for a “can you believe this?” surprise. (When she started a newsletter on The Atlantic, she called it “Wait, what?”) For tortured Trump-era liberals seeking a voice in the media, it was enough to underscore the absurdity of the events. “Sometimes everyone will say something and I’ll say, ‘How’?” said Mrs. Jong-Fast. “I just feel like a lot of times I think, this doesn’t smell good, and I think that’s been really helpful in my life.”
“Democrats keep bringing a stuffed animal to a knife fight.” — @mollyjongfast
One evening in 2019, I arrived at Ms. Jong-Fast’s building for a party she was throwing in honor of actress Kathy Griffin. Inside the door, Resistance Twitter came to life.
Writer E. Jean Carroll, who had recently accused Mr Trump of sexual assault, was talking to George T. Conway III, husband of Kellyanne Conway, when Mrs. Griffin, in an ecru Valentino dress, approached. “Who’s got Mrs. Mueller’s number?” she asked mischievously, drafting a “Lysistrata” scheme in which special counsel’s wife, Robert S. Mueller III, would withhold physical relationships from her husband until he divulged damning details about Mr. Trump.
Her schedule was interrupted by the arrival of the Momofuku catering. “This is the best party I’ve been to all year,” Mrs. Carroll said, sliding toward the slow-roasted pork. (Later, when she sued Mr. Trump for defamation, she hired an attorney who recommended Mr. Conway to her that night.)
Philippe Reines, a former senior aide to Hillary Clinton, took over the room from liberal writers, comedians and cable news greenroom habitants, comparing the gathering to the TV show “Lost”: survivors wandering through shell shock on a beach. “If we all fell on the plane, who would get the obituary?” he asked. The consensus: Ms. Griffin.
Washington has its famous political hostesses—Sally Quinn, Pamela Harriman—but contemporary New York lacked collectors. Ms. Jong-Fast, with her spacious personality (and spacious apartment), filled the void. “I walked in and the first thing I see is Erica Jong talking to Joyce Carol Oates,” said Ms Sullivan, a former public editor of The Times. “I felt like I was in literary heaven.”
