
Credit: Sphere/David Levenson/Getty
In 2017, I wrote a post titled “Perceiving the Personal in the Pages We Peruse.” That piece was about how some novels we read remind us strongly of events, places, and other things in our present or past lives. Now, after lengthy penance for using too much alliteration in that post’s title, I’m back with another reminder-themed piece — this time featuring novels I’ve read during the past seven years or, if I read them earlier, hadn’t mentioned in that earlier post.
One relevant novel, which I finished last week, is Val McDermid’s 1979 — a compelling crime thriller starring a young female newspaper reporter in Scotland. I was a young male newspaper reporter in the U.S. around that time, so my experiences were obviously different, but I certainly recognized the McDermid-depicted newsroom back then that was filled with typewriters instead of computers, copy-editing done on paper, journalists smoking cigarettes and drinking a lot, unfortunately rampant sexism, and more.
It was that same year of 1979 when I visited Rome, and one of the sights I saw was The Sistine Chapel in Vatican City. Memories of that came back when I recently read Irving Stone’s historical novel The Agony and the Ecstasy about the life of Michelangelo — who famously painted that iconic chapel’s ceiling.
I was living in New York City back then (from 1978 to 1993), and worked in NYC (from 1978 to 2008), so of course novels set in The Big Apple evoke personal memories of Manhattan and other boroughs — even if the books were set before my lifetime. Michael Chabon’s The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, Caleb Carr’s The Alienist, Lee Child’s Jack Reacher novel Gone Tomorrow, Don DeLillo’s Underworld, Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man, Pete Hamill’s Forever, Adam Langer’s Ellington Boulevard, Betty Smith’s A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Colm Toibin’s Brooklyn, Edith Wharton’s The Age of Innocence, etc.
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay had the double familiarity for me of starring cartoonists, which reminded me of when I covered those creators for a magazine. I had even met some of the real-life cartoonists Michael Chabon mentioned in passing — among them the friendly and masterful “Terry and the Pirates”/”Steve Canyon” comic strip creator Milton Caniff (1907-1988).
Now I live in Montclair — a New Jersey suburb big enough and interesting enough to occasional pop up in novels, including Joel Dicker’s The Truth About the Harry Quebert Affair. The character from Montclair wasn’t super-appealing, and the Swiss author didn’t really capture the feel of my burg, but…
Modern-day Paris? One of the novels that got my recollections rolling was Jane Smiley’s Perestroika in Paris, published two years after my last visit (in 2018) to The City of Light.
Whenever I read a novel (such as Angie Thomas’ The Hate U Give and Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things) in which police behave badly, I think of my much-more-minor experiences of being profiled by law enforcement. (My hair used to be longer than it is now.) One time, while working as a reporter, I drove into the parking lot of my newspaper’s office. A police car pulled in behind me, lights flashing, after which the officer approached my car window and asked rather menacingly what I was doing there. I took out my press card, and enjoyed seeing the policeman’s embarrassment. One of my “beats” was covering that officer’s department. 🙂
Novels that have sparked personal memories for you?
My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work “Misty the Cat…Unleashed” — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Misty says Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for my book features a talking cat: 🙂
In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — about an upcoming township manager search and more — is here.





