Oprah On Oprah

The pressure became too much, and by the third issue a handful of top staff, including editor in chief Ellen Kunes, resigned. "It was like riding a rocket, and the only one who was prepared for it was Oprah because she's been riding it for years," says Kunes, 41, who left, she says, to spend more time with her children.

The magazine's growing pains have not stunted its growth. Winfrey found a new editor in Amy Gross, a tough-minded magazine veteran who, like Winfrey, is a perfectionist. (The early issues were "too earnest and full of trite and cliche magazinespeak," she told Winfrey and King at her first interview.) She's overhauled the writing and design staff to make the magazine more sophisticated, she formed an instantly close relationship with King, and so far she seems unthreatened by Winfrey's involvement. "It's my ship, but Oprah's the North Star," she says of her approach to the job.

Fans say they like the magazine for the same reason they like the TV show: it's real. Winfrey has graced every cover so far, and, unlike most cover girls, she represents an attainable standard of beauty. "It's not just perfect, tall, blond models," says Terrie Reeves, 37, a marketing consultant. The November issue features Oprah in a fire-red taffeta Gianfranco Ferre gown. The day it was released, Ferre was flooded with orders from women around the country, including an opera singer in Conyers, Ga., who e-mailed her request for a size 18 and a New Yorker who rushed into the Madison Avenue boutique waving the magazine and pleading, "I must have this dress!"

Winfrey's followers know that the life of the multimillionaire in the couture gowns is nothing like theirs. Yet they believe that her inner goals and aspirations mirror their own. "She's giving me the tools to find myself," says Mary Madden, 37, a suburban housewife from West Islip, N.Y. "I'm not there yet. But she gives me the inspiration and the courage to take the journey." Madden, who has three young sons, watches the talk show religiously, and frequently logs on to Oprah.com. She buys Oprah-recommended books, has a subscription to O magazine and writes every day in her "gratitude journal" (one of Oprah's favorite exercises for acknowledging the goodness in life).

Ever restless, Winfrey is constantly working to get her message out. That's why she took on the teaching job at Northwestern. Yet another manifestation of her spiritual mission. the class was for her a way to groom a new crop of business leaders committed to developing purposeful and fulfilling careers. But the demands of teaching have taken their toll. The morning after the class with Coretta Scott King, Winfrey, clearly exhausted, shuffles through her Chicago penthouse in her favorite cream-colored pashmina pajamas. The class didn't end until 9 p.m. And prior to teaching, she had sprinted through a jam-packed day: early morning workout, 8 a.m. makeup call, talk-show taping, off-air chat with audience members, postproduction meeting with producers, afternoon review of O layouts and telephone volley with her lawyer to discuss buying a new building--all before slurping down a bowl of chicken-potato soup, rushing to meet Stedman, picking up their cocker spaniel, Sophie, from the vet and hustling to the suburban campus for the 6 o'clock lecture. Now Winfrey has a pile of case studies and personal journals to grade. "The magazine, the grading, I haven't managed it all as well as I should have," she says, clutching a cup of coffee. After several nights of lost sleep she has decided to give up the class.

Relaxing in a small sitting area and library designed around a large antique oil portrait of an angelic-looking black girl, Winfrey, though tired, looks peaceful. Through the trials of the past few years she has learned some important lessons about herself. "I'm a communicator, a catalyst through which information flows," she says. "But I don't have to do it all on my own."