The plot of the new novel “Party Favors” doesn’t seem so unusual when weighed against other fish-out-of-water tomes like “Devil Wears Prada”: A young and ideal Midwestern woman who rises to the top of the world of D.C. fund-raising, then realizes what such a powerful world is really like.
But “Party Favors” is written by Nicole Sexton, who from 2002 to 2005 was at the GOP’s money source: She served as director of finance for the National Republican Senatorial Committee.
The book is fiction, not a tell-all, but D.C. insiders surely will read the tome trying to connect the dots, for it’s not a very flattering look at senators and their tactics for soaking up campaign dollars.
What’s more, Sexton’s alter ego, Temple Sachet, encounters a cast of characters that include a small army of closeted gay Republicans, and a 70-year-old senator who is also a pervert, and other lawmakers who seem to love being wined, dined and coddled by lobbyists. The most amusing of the figures is Senator Griswold, “old Blubberboy,” an incompetent Ivy Leaguer who is dangerously overweight yet fancies himself as a “modern-day toupee wearing Roy Rogers.” It doesn’t take too much head-scratching to figure out who she’s referring to when she writes, “People were whispering that Senator Ogburn had a penchant for public bathrooms.”
But the book is really about the insanity of campaign finance, the endless drive for the next donor check and the overall corruption of the system.
“My intention was to entertain and to cast a light on this world,” says Sexton, speaking by phone earlier this month.
She has since moved on to more altruistic circles as part of Bono’s ONE campaign, but she says that her novel, written with Susan Johnston, has received “some negative rumble from a few fund-raisers who I worked with” who felt that it attacked the business of raising political money too broadly. Other fund-raising friends have told her they “cringe at how realistic and truthful you were.” Among other things, Sexton is up front about how fund-raisers take a percentage off the top of each contribution — 10%, even 15% in some cases — often unknown to those donors who write a check.
“I saw the middle men, the gross waste and the overwhelming greed, and the blinders were really ripped off,” she says. “I was angry with myself and disappointed and subsequently left.”
It’s clear from Temple’s story that Sexton found herself lost in the world of campaign cash. As she says, the book attacks an entire sector of government that “is supposed to be based on reality and telling the truth, but there is a real clouded view of what should be and what matters.”
It wasn’t just that it became a “numbers game” and how many seats the GOP was winning rather than its ideological stances, as Sexton has said. In the book, Temple struggles with supporting a “party of ‘family’ when most of the senators were divorced (one on his eighth wife!) having affairs, or otherwise living by a different set of rules than they espoused.”
Sexton supports some serious measures at reform: Limits on the time that candidates raise money and on the amount that can be spent, as well as requirements to that TV and radio stations provide free airtime to campaigns.