This book is trash.
There. I said it. Ripping the bandage off.
Once upon a time, there was this imposing female figure named Chyna, who became one of the big names in the WWF during the height of the Attitude Era. Starting off as a bodyguard to HHH before being involved in intergender feuds that eventually won her two reigns as Intercontinental Champion, Chyna was enough of a popular figure in the company to warrant getting to write a book (or rather someone else would ghost-write the book and she’d take credit for it.) Finally, fans of the Ninth Wonder Of The World could learn the story of Chyna’s upbringing and rise to prominence.
If They Only Knew… that somehow seems like an apropos title when you think about it.
I’ve only read a handful of WWE-published books and with the exception of the Foley books – which are excellent reads and still hold up to this day – most of them are just fluff pieces that feel more like works of fiction designed to push whatever narrative was being pushed at the time than any semblance of legitimate autobiographical tome. And even in that context, most of them were harmless. The Chyna book, on the other hand, feels more like a hit piece. She’s more than happy to talk about how awesome she is, but when it comes to almost everyone else – with very few exceptions – they’re a bunch of assholes, haggards, and miscreants… except she wouldn’t use those words because the language used is uncomplicated. And even in its uncomplicated state, the book is riddled with typos, including certain names being misspelled, such as “Sean Michaels” or “Terry Reynolds,” whom I’ve never heard of before until I realize that she’s talking about Terri Runnels, Dustin Rhodes’ ex-wife.
I could understand such typos showing up in an unauthorized bio where the person writing the thing didn’t know better, but this was a WWF-published book. This is basic shit that they should have fixed in editing for fuck’s sake!
The more I read into this book, the more uncomfortable I began to feel… this was like digging into a girl’s diary where all they do is talk about how much of a bitch all the other girls are or how she’s better than the rest of them. Her accounts on certain wrestling angles that have been recounted ad nauseum are certainly “interesting” if nothing else… and yet by the time I was done reading this book, this felt like something written by someone who was dealing with some deep shit and had no business putting pen to paper. I don’t know how much of this was Chyna or the other guy, but what I read is the kind of trash I normally try to stay away from. I felt dirty reading this. I felt dirty keeping this around. And so I tossed it into the fireplace and watch the tome get consumed by the flames.
Yeah, it’s that bad. Nobody should be reading this.
Look, I don’t want to bash on Chyna for the sake of bashing Chyna. She got dealt a bad hand after she was released and she couldn’t quite cope. I like to think that maybe one day, she’ll be able to get back on track and maybe give this book writing thing another shot. Somewhere in that journey, there’s a story waiting to be told without the excess baggage that colored this book. And if nothing else, I wouldn’t want Chyna’s only contribution to the autobiographical world be this absolute dumpster fire of a book.
Trash.
dtm666 