When Authors Place Their Bet on Debt

A current major issue in my town of Montclair, New Jersey, is a massive school-budget deficit. As I continued to write about that each week in my “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column, thoughts came to mind about fictional people facing debt and related financial troubles — a situation that provides much dramatic fodder while often evoking sympathy for those money-challenged characters.

Not knowing in advance that it would fit this topic, I happened last week to read a Richard Paul Evans novel called The Walk in which Seattle ad executive Alan Christoffersen loses his home, his car, and most of his other possessions because of huge medical bills for his paralyzed-in-an-accident wife McKale, being cheated by his work partner, and other reasons.

When reading about any character in fiscal peril, we wonder how they will react and what the ultimate outcome for them will be. In Evans’ 2009 novel, a despairing Alan ends up starting a long walk to Key West, Florida…nearly 3,500 miles away!

The pricey and problematic health-care system in the U.S. — the world’s only “developed” country without some form of government-run national insurance for all — also takes a huge financial toll on Shep Knacker when his wife Glynis becomes ill in (Ms.) Lionel Shriver’s compelling part-satirical novel So Much for That (2010).

Moving from the 21st-century United States to 19th-century France, we have Honore de Balzac’s 1837 novel Cesar Birotteau — whose Parisian title character is a successful shop owner and deputy mayor who becomes bankrupt after getting manipulated into property speculation. He spends the rest of the book on a mission to restore his honor by trying to pay off his debt.

A later French novel, Emile Zola’s The Drinking Den (1877), features another initially successful businessperson: Gervaise Macquart, who manages to open her own laundry through very hard work. She is happily married until her husband’s life spirals downward after he falls from a roof. Coupeau’s descent drags the family into poverty and alcoholism.

In-between those books came Gustave Flaubert’s 1857 novel Madame Bovary, in which the adulterous title character gets into serious debt spending on luxuries. When the debt is called in and can’t be paid, Emma Bovary decides to…

Over in 19th-century England, there was Charles Dickens’ also-published-in-1857 novel Little Dorrit — whose title character (first name Amy) was born and grows up in a debtors’ prison where her father William has been incarcerated. Partly inspired by Dickens’ childhood.

Back in France, Guy de Maupassant’s classic 1884 short story “The Necklace” is about a woman who loses a glittery borrowed necklace and goes into years of life-ruining debt after paying for a replacement. The tale has one of the most famous surprise endings in literature.

Authors themselves have of course also experienced money troubles. For instance, Sir Walter Scott in later life tried to frantically write his way out of debt after a banking crisis caused the collapse of a printing business in which the Scottish author had a large financial stake.

Also later in life, Mark Twain filed for bankruptcy after years of investing heavily in a mechanical typesetter that didn’t catch on. He survived financially and paid off debt by giving up his ornate Hartford, Connecticut, mansion and later embarking on a worldwide speaking tour.

Your thoughts about, and examples of, this theme?

Misty the cat says: “I didn’t know my apartment complex was zoned for a car dealership.”

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 on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. πŸ™‚ )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: πŸ™‚

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…as well as a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, and includes many encounters with celebrities.

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 my local Township Council’s welcome vote to support a proposed state bill to protect immigrants from the Trump regime — is here.

Cars Can Help Drive the Plots of Novels

Our 2014 Toyota Prius leaving its apartment-complex garage. (Driven by my wife Laurel/photographed by me.)

My wife Laurel and I drove from New Jersey to Michigan and back this weekend for a memorial service in Ann Arbor for a cherished family member. It was a crazily compressed November 14-16 car journey of more than 1,200 miles round trip — a travel method we chose to avoid possible flight problems in the aftermath of the U.S. government shutdown.

Anyway, all that automotive time means I have driving on my mind, so I’m resurrecting a piece about cars in literature that I wrote for The Huffington Post in 2013, a year before starting this WordPress blog. Here it is, slightly edited and slightly rewritten:

In literature, sometimes a car is just a car. But sometimes it’s a “vehicle” for authors to write about independence, loneliness, progress, sex, death, wealth, poverty, and more.

Whether or not book-based cars are weighted with symbolism, most readers relate to driving. So I’d like to steer you to some novels in which cars are important “characters,” and then hear about your favorite fictional works that feature those on-the-road contraptions.

Which reminds me of Jack Kerouac’s On the Road novel and the way some cars in literature are used to search (futilely or otherwise) for freedom and/or pleasure, and can speak to characters’ restlessness, aimlessness, and/or discontent.

That’s the case in Paul Auster’s The Music of Chance. Protagonist Jim Nashe spends the first part of the novel endlessly crisscrossing the U.S. in a car after his wife leaves him. The ex-firefighter, who finances his marathon road trip with an unexpected inheritance, eventually ends up involved in a high-stakes poker game at the mansion of two eccentric/heartless rich guys. Then things get really weird before the novel concludes with (wait for it!) one more car ride.

There’s another fateful auto scene — though not at the end of the book — in Jeffrey Eugenides’ Middlesex. It’s a car chase that features Calliope’s dad Milton driving too fast on the Ambassador Bridge between Detroit and Canada.

Motor vehicles also figure prominently in Booth Tarkington’s The Magnificent Ambersons, with successful automaker Eugene Morgan representing turn-of-the-20th-century progress while Major Amberson and his dwindling fortune represent the vanishing horse-and-buggy age. New money vs. old money and all that.

Tarkington contemporary L.M. Montgomery offers a scene in The Blue Castle of Valancy Stirling sharing an exuberant car ride with “misfit” Barney Snaith. Many people in their straitlaced town are suspicious of Barney, but Valancy finds him very interesting — so the car ride is a symbol of Valancy’s break from the conventions of her place, time, and family.

Novels of the Montgomery-Tarkington era were usually subtle about sex, but that’s not the case with many books of recent decades. For instance, there’s a scene in Ken Grimwood’s time-travel novel Replay that shows how cars can potentially be bedrooms on wheels.

Speaking of time travel, there’s a great section of Jack Finney’s Time and Again in which Simon accompanies Julia from her present (1880s) to his present (around 1970), and Julia is of course stunned by the experience of riding in a modern motor vehicle.

Readers are the ones who might be stunned as they peruse Charles Dickinson’s The Widows’ Adventures, a novel starring two women on a long road trip. The one doing the driving is…blind!

Then there are supernatural thrills in car-oriented Stephen King novels such as Christine and From a Buick 8. The latter book includes a spooky gas station scene before various law-enforcement people enter the story.

Two memorable moments in Cormac McCathy’s Suttree involve what the title character does to a police car (to avenge racist cop behavior) and what Suttree’s girlfriend does to the couple’s own car. And in Fay Weldon’s The Bulgari Connection, the spurned older wife is jailed after using an auto to do a certain something to the trophy wife who “replaced” her.

Or how about that tense yet hilarious Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets scene in which J.K. Rowling has Harry and Ron travel to Hogwarts in a flying car? An auto can definitely be a “vehicle” for humor.

On a much more serious note, a car converted into a truck of sorts is how the Joad family travels from drought-stricken/agribusiness-devastated Oklahoma to a hoped-for better life in California. But the reality out west for the non-rich is as dismal as the Joads’ aged jalopy in John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath.

People take long car trips for various reasons. In John Grisham’s The Client, attorney Reggie Love and her beleaguered 11-year-old client Mark drive from Memphis to New Orleans to try to locate the body of a murdered U.S. senator.

What are your favorite fictional works with motor vehicle motifs?

Misty the cat says: “The Lincoln Tunnel has been renovated!”

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 on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. πŸ™‚ )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: πŸ™‚

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

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 two flawed local ballot questions relating to a massive school budget deficit — is here.

Optimistic Fiction Can Be Optimal

Election Day on November 4 brought some good news during a very dark year for American politics. Various progressive and centrist candidates decisively won state and local races that were in part votes against the cruel, far-right Trump regime — providing some hope for people who want kinder and gentler government.

The highlight for me was the resounding victory of Zohran Mamdani over Andrew Cuomo for mayor of New York City, where I used to live and work — and just 12 miles east of my current apartment in New Jersey. Mamdani ran a masterful campaign focusing on affordability, enabling the 34-year-old Democrat/democratic socialist to become NYC’s youngest mayor in over a century and its first Muslim mayor when he’s sworn in on January 1. Cuomo — who ran as an independent after losing the Democratic primary to Mamdani in June — is a mean-spirited, Trump-like figure (even endorsed by the Republican president!) who resigned in disgrace as New York governor in 2021 after being credibly accused of sexual misconduct by 13 women, after causing many deaths by allowing nursing homes to readmit hospital patients with Covid, etc.

Being in a good mood, I thought I’d write a post about novels that are utopian — or at least contain a lot of hope, feature extraordinarily nice characters, etc. I’ve written before about dystopian novels, so it’s a pleasure to go the opposite route today. πŸ™‚

One utopian novel I thought of is Edward Bellamy’s Looking Backward (1888), in which Boston-based protagonist Julian West travels forward in time from 1887 to 2000 and finds that society is doing pretty well in a democratic socialist sort of way. (Reminded me a bit of the Star Trek franchise’s often sunny view of the future.) We get the added bonus in Looking Backward of the debit card being invented by the author — who, incidentally, was a cousin of “Pledge of Allegiance” writer Francis Bellamy.

I also thought of Island (1962), Aldous Huxley’s final novel. As utopian as the author’s Brave New World was dystopian, Island features a cynical journalist who lands on an…island…and finds himself observing a very appealing society. Not one of Huxley’s best novels, but it was interesting to get a feel-good story from him.

There’s also Lost Horizon, James Hilton’s 1933 novel about a visit to an idyllic place called Shangri-La. The part-utopian tale is mesmerizing.

Both utopian and cautionary is Nathaniel Hawthorne’s A Blithedale Romance (1852), set in a commune that’s not as wonderful as it ideally could be. In fact, the semi-autobiographical novel kind of satirizes would-be utopian life.

Not-utopian novels that are mostly upbeat and/or heartwarming are semi-utopian in a way, as can be books that offer happy endings after the protagonist faces challenges. I’m looking at you, L.M. Montgomery; her novel The Blue Castle (1926) and its Valancy Stirling star are real mood-lifters. There are of course many other nice, kind characters — such as Tiny Tim of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol (1843) — with positive outlooks on life even if life, in some cases, has dealt them a bad hand.

The novel I read most recently, The Chemist (2016) by Stephenie Meyer of Twilight fame, is a page-turning thriller that focuses on the tough, brainy, loner, brave-but-often-insecure female title character who goes by different names. As this small-in-physical-stature former government agent tries to fend off multiple murder attempts, she meets a teacher (Daniel) who is about as sweet and amiable as it gets.

Thoughts about and/or examples of this theme?

My next post will appear either later than usual on Sunday, November 16, or on Monday the 17th.

Misty the cat says: “As leaves turn brown, it’s either autumn or Snickers bars have a new look.”

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 on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. πŸ™‚ )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: πŸ™‚

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

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 — commenting on election results in my town, New Jersey, and New York City — is here.

Novels with a Sunshine State of Mind

A Delray Beach retirement community in 2018. (Photo by me.)

Florida! Beaches. Palm trees. Retired senior citizens. Disney World. Miami Vice. Kennedy Space Center/Cape Canaveral. Many nationally known pro and college teams in football and other sports. A once-blue but now-red state led by far-right/mean-spirited Governor Ron DeSantis. The home state of far-right/mean-spirited President Donald Trump, a New York native.

“The Sunshine State” has personal elements for me, too. After she retired, my New York-born/later-New Jersey-based mother lived in Delray Beach from the early 1990s to her death in 2018. My wife has extended family in Florida, where I also have friends. I covered conferences in Orlando, Sarasota, and Boca Raton when I was a magazine writer.

As you might expect, I’m also going to discuss Florida’s various literary connections. It’s one of the places where Ernest Hemingway lived — in Key West. The state is associated as well with novelists Zora Neale Hurston and Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, columnists/authors Dave Barry and Carl Hiaasen, and other wordsmiths. And it’s the state where “The Wizarding World of Harry Potter” is located — a theme park inspired, of course, by the blockbuster J.K. Rowling series.

I didn’t plan this, but the last two novels I read were set a little or mostly in Florida. First there was James Leo Herlihy’s Midnight Cowboy (known more for the iconic movie), a riveting book about a down-and-out Texas hustler in New York City who ends up taking a fraught bus ride to Miami. Then I proceeded to James Michener’s Recessional, which takes a poignant and very absorbing look at a senior facility near Tampa. It was Michener’s final novel — published when he was 87 — so the author really “lived” the subject matter.

Other novels with partial or mainly Florida settings? Referencing authors already mentioned in this post, there was Zora Neale Hurston’s compelling classic Their Eyes Were Watching God starring a memorable independent woman, Marjorie Kinnan Rawling’s Pulitzer Prize-winning The Yearling featuring a boy and his fawn, and Ernest Hemingway’s fishing-boat saga To Have and Have Not.

I’ve read the columns of Dave Barry and Carl Hiaasen, and met and written about both men, but have not tried any of their books.

But I have read Rita Mae Brown’s Rubyfruit Jungle, in which the lesbian protagonist leaves Florida for more-tolerant New York City; Colson Whitehead’s The Nickel Boys, much of which is set at a problematic reform school in Florida; Joy Fielding’s Cul-de-sac, a page-turner about the families living on one suburban Florida street; John Grisham’s thriller Camino Island, in which manuscripts of F. Scott Fitzgerald play a prominent role; and Peter Straub’s Ghost Story, which — not surprisingly for a novel partly set in Florida — prominently features senior citizens in its cast.

Thoughts about and/or examples of this theme?

Misty the cat says: 🎡 “There’s something happening here/what it is ain’t exactly clear.” 🎡

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 on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. πŸ™‚ )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: πŸ™‚

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, with many encounters with celebrities.

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 awful massive layoffs in my school district, upcoming elections, and more — is here.

They Seconded the Notion of Not Using Their First Language

Joseph Conrad (Bettmann/Getty Images).

It’s hard enough to write books. But writing them without using your first language? Impressive!

I was thinking about that last week while reading The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad, who spoke his native Polish as well as French from childhood but wrote his fiction in English — a language he didn’t learn until he was in his 20s. Still, Conrad’s English writing was quite elegant and far from simple in works that also included such books as Heart of Darkness (which helped inspire the movie Apocalypse Now) and Lord Jim.

The Russian-born Vladimir Nabokov actually wrote his first nine novels in Russian before turning to English — the language of his most famous work, Lolita. But Nabokov’s dexterity in English was especially exceptional in his later novel Pale Fire.

Jhumpa Lahiri, the British-American daughter of immigrants from India, wrote her Pulitzer Prize-winning Interpreter of Maladies short-story collection and her novels The Namesake and The Lowland in English. Then she went on to learn Italian, and authored a novel in that language titled Dove mi trovo (later self-translated into English as Whereabouts).

Afghanistan-born Khaled Hosseini, a teen when his family immigrated to the U.S., was a native Farsi speaker who wrote The Kite Runner and his other novels in English.

Kazuo Ishiguro was a native Japanese speaker whose family moved to England when he was five. The Nobel Prize in literature recipient wrote The Remains of the Day and his other subtle novels in English.

Chinua Achebe of Things Fall Apart fame was a native speaker of Igbo in Nigeria who wrote primarily in English.

Canadian-born Yann Martel, best known for authoring the novel Life of Pi, was a native French speaker who would go on to write in English.

Like Conrad, Jerzy Kosinski was born in Poland but gained fame as a writer in English — with his best-known work the novel Being There.

Anyway, that’s a small sampling — and one that mostly includes authors who became English wordsmiths. Any further examples of this topic, including authors who ended up writing in non-English languages? Any other thoughts on this topic?

Misty the cat says: “I must eat after a claw-trimming shrank my weight from 17 pounds to one ounce.”

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 on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. πŸ™‚ )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: πŸ™‚

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir focusing on cartooning and more that includes many encounters with celebrities.

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 a local “No Kings” rally, the reopening of a vintage movie theater, and more — is here.

Novelists Have the Facility to Depict Nobility

Yesterday, a massive total of nearly seven million people attended the 2,700-plus “No Kings” rallies in the United States and abroad to protest Trump’s fascist/authoritarian regime as that Republican administration ignores Congress, enriches itself, cracks down on peaceful dissent, arrests innocent people of color, invades American cities for no good reason, meddles in other countries’ affairs, starts or supports wrongful military actions around the world, etc. Which, as a literature blogger, reminded me of kings and other royalty in fiction — including historical fiction.

Of course, some royalty can be partly benevolent, but in many cases all that power heightens a ruler’s nasty instincts, makes a corrupt person even more corrupt, and increases the entitlement of the already entitled. Also, being a member of royalty doesn’t exactly involve the merit system.

I’ve never deliberately sought out novels containing royal characters, much preferring to read about the lives of “everyday” people. But privileged aristocrats have popped up here and there in my reading.

For instance, when long ago working through many a great book by Mark Twain, I polished off The Prince and the Pauper (two boys changing places) and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court (in which a certain king appears).

Another 19th-century novel, Alexandre Dumas’ 17th-century-set The Three Musketeers, includes King Louis XIII and Queen Anne as secondary characters.

In Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, King Louis XVI and King George III are referenced.

Some novels written in the 20th and 21st centuries also include royal characters. Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall has Henry VIII and other monarchical personages, Josephine Tey’s The Daughter of Time harkens back to King Richard III, Robert Graves’ I, Claudius features the Roman emperor of the book’s title, J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings has the would-be king Aragorn, and Philippa Gregory’s Earthly Joys has the Duke of Buckingham.

There’s also William Goldman’s The Princess Bride, Meg Cabot’s The Princess Diaries, Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s The Little Prince, Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and its Queen of Hearts, C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia and its King Tirian, Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander and its King Louis XV appearance, Margaret Landon’s Anna and the King of Siam that inspired The King and I musical, and so on.

Of course there’s royalty, too, in various Shakespeare plays and in other stage creations such as Eugene O’Neill’s The Emperor Jones, Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton (King George III), etc.

I’m sure I’ve only touched the surface here. Any additional examples of, or thoughts about, this topic?

Misty the cat asks: “What’s the new White House ballroom doing here?”

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 on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. πŸ™‚ )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: πŸ™‚

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, and includes many encounters with celebrities.

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 wondering how to vote in a controversial local tax referendum that will be held this December because of a huge school district deficit — is here.

When There’s No ‘Rush’ Between Novels

Clockwise from top left, Rush bandmates Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson (photo credit: Rush), new Rush drummer Anika Nilles (Richard Ecclestone/Redferns), and the late Neil Peart (Clayton Call/Getty Images).

Last week, the band Rush announced it would go on a concert tour again in 2026 for the first time in 11 years. (Stick with me here; this will eventually be a literature post. πŸ™‚ )

A lot has happened since 2015 with one of my favorite bands. Rush stopped touring mostly because the Canadian group’s legendary drummer/lyricist Neil Peart needed to end the physical and mental strain of more than four decades of hard-slamming, intricate percussion work. His bandmates — vocalist/bassist/keyboardist Geddy Lee and guitarist Alex Lifeson, the friends from childhood who co-created the music paired with Peart’s words — decided not to continue the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame band without their close pal and went on to do other things. That included Lifeson playing in another band (Envy of None) and Lee writing a best-selling memoir and a coffee-table book focusing on bass guitars.

Peart himself was a prolific nonfiction-book author whose Rush lyrics included many literary references; see below for a 2020 post of mine about that. Sadly, “The Professor” (as Peart was known) died that year of brain cancer. It definitely looked like Rush was done — until last week’s news.

The grand conclusion to all this? Brilliant drummer Anika Nilles of Germany was chosen by Lee and Lifeson to sit in Peart’s spot behind the kit — with the permission of Peart’s widow and daughter.

Anyway, this is a long intro to a literature theme Rush’s announcement made me think of — authors going a long time before writing a novel again. (I’ve previously done variations on this theme, including instances of a long gap between a famous novel and its sequel.)

The first author that came to mind was Herman Melville, whose last published novel in his lifetime came out in 1857 despite him not dying until 1891. Poor sales, negative reaction from critics, and other factors put a halt to a decade-plus of very prolific book writing, though Melville in his non-novel years did do some poetry in addition to his customs inspector job. Still, Melville started the novel Billy Budd a few years before his death — and it became a success when published posthumously in 1924 and republished in a more complete 1962 edition.

Melville’s friend Nathaniel Hawthorne’s first novel, 1828’s Fanshawe, didn’t sell well and the author turned to short stories and other things for a long 22 years before The Scarlet Letter arrived in 1850. That became an instant classic, and several other novels followed fairly quickly.

Then there’s Marilynne Robinson, whose debut novel Homecoming came out in 1980 — followed by a 24-year gap before her second novel Gilead was published. Why? Robinson turned to nonfiction writing and to teaching. The author released novels more often after 2004.

Arundhati Roy also wrote an acclaimed debut novel — 1997’s The God of Small Things — before two decades went by until her second novel, 2017’s The Ministry of Utmost Happiness. Like Robinson, Roy wrote nonfiction in between and was also involved in plenty of political activism in India.

Of course, some novelists come out with a new title only once in a while because they’re slower writers and/or write ambitious books that take a lot of time. That’s the case, for instance, with Donna Tartt — whose only three novels were published in 1992, 2002, and 2013; now 12 years and counting until a possible fourth. A similar trajectory for Jeffrey Eugenides — only three novels, in 1993, 2002, and 2011, with other years taken up by plenty of short stories as well as teaching.

To reference the title of one of Rush’s most famous songs, there can be a long gap between time in the “Limelight,” and inspiration doesn’t always arrive like clockwork. (Clockwork Angels was Rush’s last studio album.)

Your thoughts on, and/or any examples of, this topic?

Misty the cat says: “As Robert Frost wrote, ‘Good fences make good YouTube videos.'”

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 on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. πŸ™‚ )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: πŸ™‚

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…as well as a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, and includes many encounters with celebrities.

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 a new councilor and a deficit referendum decision — is here.

Formidable Fiction Is ‘Furmidable’ to a Feline

I, Misty the cat, might be the first kitty to write a blog post while asleep. (Photo by my human Dave.)

Last week, Dave blogged about the appeal of escapist fiction as a diversion from the dire 2025 political climate faced by people, cats, and blue-footed booby birds who migrated from red-footed states. This week, as I, Misty the cat, do the every-two-month feline takeover of Dave’s blog, I’ll discuss a few of the many challenging novels I’ve read amid the escapist stuff, if only to keep up my paw strength as I swatted those weighty books off the table.

Currently, Dave and I are in the middle of Orfeo by Richard Powers, who later wrote the acclaimed environmental tree saga The Overstory — a novel not about me hovering over a short story. Orfeo is a book featuring a rather complex musical motif as well as sudden swings between the present and past, yet it’s still quite readable in its way. How did I, Misty the cat, learn a word like “motif”? In The Idiot’s Guide to Pretentious Vocabulary.

Some other challenging novels? James Joyce’s Ulysses comes to mind, but I haven’t read it because of my lack of interest in American Civil War general Ulysses S. Grant. There’s also Marcel Proust’s many-volume In Search of Lost Time, of which I managed to finish the initial Swann’s Way book. Here’s what I discovered: gorgeous language, kind of a slog to get through, and a swan and blue-footed booby will both eat a madeleine if it’s slathered in A1 steak sauce.

Plenty of food for thought (but no madeleine) in Toni Morrison’s Beloved, set after the American Civil War in which the aforementioned Grant waged battle against alliterative author names like James Joyce. I also liked Morrison’s The Bluest Eye, even though my cat eyes are green. Everything is not all about me! 99.9% about me? Sure, but not 100%.

Then there’s late-career Henry James. Those novels contain plenty of long and convoluted sentences, but, yes, Long and Convoluted would make a great name for a rock band. Dave and my feline self did enjoy James’ late-career novel The Ambassadors, which was about the Ambassador cars from India and the United States meeting cute before asking James to write The Turn of the Ignition. Or maybe that novel was about an American’s trip to Paris to try to bring back a young man to the family business. The Family Business would be a so-so name for a rock band.

An early-career novel by Eleanor Catton, published when the author was still in her 20s, is also quite ambitious. That would be The Luminaries, which combined a plot about the 1860s New Zealand gold rush with an astrological motif. (I’m a Sagittarius cat.) There’s that fancy word “motif” again, which I was moved to reuse after reading The Idiot’s Guide to Repeating One’s Self in a Blog Post.

I liked Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway a lot despite it not being the easiest of reads. The whole book unfolds in a day, which makes me wonder if it’s a multigenerational saga unfolding across several centuries. Let me think about that.

There’s also Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace, about the yin and yang of my relationship with the chipmunk I often see during my daily leashed walks. Given its tiny size, the chipmunk only reads one-page novels, and gets its musical fix solely by watching NPR “Tiny Desk Concerts” — including excellent ones featuring Taylor Swift and Chappell Roan. It’s a small world after all…

Speaking of Russian novels, Fyodor Dostoevsky’s tome The Brothers Karamazov is a challenge, too, with many chapters that are wonderful and some chapters that sort of drag. But when it’s good it’s GOOD. The Sisters Karamazov didn’t leave as much of an impression on my feline self because that book doesn’t exist. The Second-Cousins-Once-Removed Karamazov? A real banger. Which reminds me to bang on my food bowl because it feels like I haven’t been served my chow since the 19th century in Russia. It’s been almost five minutes!

Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s sweeping One Hundred Years of Solitude echoed my angst when I was once forced to endure One Hundred Nanoseconds of Solitude. Fortunately, I also read The Idiot’s Guide to Being Alone for Under a Minute.

Dave told me he twice tried William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury but couldn’t get past the first few chapters, unlike that author’s more readable Light in August and As I Lay Dying. I tried The Sound and the Fury myself, and went into a reading coma. Or maybe it was a food coma “as I lay digesting” too many cat treats.

Comments will be answered by Dave as I read The Idiot’s Guide to Recovering from Digesting Too Many Cat Treats.

I, Misty the cat, say: “I see the ghost, but where’s Mrs. Muir?”

Dave and I’s 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 on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. πŸ™‚ )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: πŸ™‚

Dave is also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, and includes many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, Dave writes the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — about a huge school budget deficit that grew even larger — is here.

Can Escapist Fiction Be Completely Escapist?

Barbara Taylor Bradford. (Credit: Bradford Enterprises.)

As I’ve mentioned here and there in recent months, I’ve been mixing my more-serious novel reading with a larger percentage of mass-audience and/or escapist fiction these days as I seek diversion from the distressing words and actions of America’s repulsive Trump regime. But of course those categories of literature are not always mostly upbeat.

Take Barbara Taylor Bradford, who was known for best-selling novels starring impressive, plucky women. Those characters are inspiring, yes, but some of them go through some really depressing things. I just read Bradford’s Everything to Gain, and while I enjoyed rooting for its protagonist Mallory Keswick, what happens to her family would not help the mood of any reader appalled at the latest Trump-related news.

Meanwhile, I continued this year to read many novels by Elin Hilderbrand. She is known for what have been called summer “beach reads” — most of them set on the beautiful Massachusetts island of Nantucket — but Hilderbrand is actually a much more complex and nuanced author than that. So, while I first tried her novels with escapist intent on my part, I’ve seen plenty of illness, death, and other sad developments in those books. But plenty of lighter content and entertainment, too, and I always eagerly went back for more even as I don’t get 100% relief from Trump and what he says and supports.

Detective fiction, to which I devoted a separate blog post earlier this month, can also make one temporarily forget the real world — one reason why I’ve read quite a few books in that genre this year. Then again, any novel with crime as a major element can make a reader not only sadly think about the victims but also think about one of America’s biggest criminals, who happens to currently live in the White House rather than in a jail cell where he belongs.

It can also be a refreshing interlude to read very funny fiction. The Pickwick Papers, anyone? But even that Charles Dickens book and most other comedic novels by various authors have some downbeat sections amid the humor.

One of these days I’m going to give a third reread to L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables. That iconic novel always brings a smile to my face, yet it contains some fraught moments and a heartbreaking death.

All this makes me wonder if I’ve ever read a completely upbeat novel. Not sure that even exists, and, if it did, I suppose such a book would lack adequate drama. But it would give readers a complete mental break. πŸ™‚

Any thoughts on this post, and on novels that might be relevant to its theme?

Misty the cat says: “Pumpkins but no spice? I turn my back.”

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 on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Misty says Amazon reviews are welcome. πŸ™‚ )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: πŸ™‚

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, and includes many encounters with celebrities.

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 topics such as a local Charlie Kirk flag controversy and a local bookstore canceling the appearance of a Palestinian-American children’s book author — is here.

Books Helped Robert Redford’s Film Career Shine

A screen shot from The Natural movie starring a man who hit a home run in life.

Like many other performers, Robert Redford appeared in a number of films inspired by books. I’ll discuss several of those screen adaptations in this post, which appears five days after the sad news of the iconic star’s September 16 death at age 89.

The first movie that came to mind was The Natural (1984), based on Bernard Malamud’s 1952 novel of the same name. Redford starred as baseball player Roy Hobbs, who returns to the game in midlife after being shot as a young man. (The Hobbs name is an amalgam of real-life baseball legends Ty Cobb and Rogers Hornsby.) Quite a compelling and affecting motion picture, which — as is often the case with Hollywood — has a happier ending than the one in the more nuanced book.

A decade earlier, another major role for Redford was in the 1974 movie version of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1925 classic The Great Gatsby. Redford was Jay Gatsby to Mia Farrow’s Daisy Buchanan.

I didn’t realize until researching this post that 1973’s The Way We Were movie — in which Redford co-starred with Barbra Streisand — was based on Arthur Laurents’ 1972 novel rather than on a totally original screenplay.

Redford was not only an actor but a director, producer, longtime champion of independent films, and laudable activist for the environment and other causes. Several of those multiple talents came together for the 1988 movie version of John Nichols’ 1974 novel The Milagro Beanfield War. The film — whose cast included Ruben Blades and Sonia Braga — didn’t do well at the box office, but Redford received praise for his direction of it.

I’ve read Nichols’ and Malamud’s books, but not Judith Guest’s 1976 novel Ordinary People, for which Redford won the directing Oscar for the 1980 movie version starring Mary Tyler Moore, Donald Sutherland, and Timothy Hutton. I’ve seen the film, which is excellent.

Redford of course also acted in movies based on notable nonfiction books — including 1937’s Out of Africa memoir by Isak Dinesen (Redford co-starred with Meryl Streep in the 1985 film) and 1974’s Watergate-scandal-focused All the President’s Men by Washington Post reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein (Redford played Woodward opposite Dustin Hoffman as Bernstein in the 1976 movie). I’ve read both books, and the films did each of them justice even as their main characters were more glamorous than their written-page counterparts.

A great late-career role for Redford was in the 2017 screen adaptation of Kent Haruf’s very poignant 2015 novel Our Souls at Night, about an older couple’s twilight-years romance. He co-starred with Jane Fonda, repeating a charismatic pairing from several earlier films.

I’ll close with this: Redford lived a life that we’ll remember with affection and admiration for his talent, his kindness, and his social conscience. People such as the cruel Trump and his dreadful toadies will be remembered quite differently when they’re gone.

Any thoughts on Redford, the films and books mentioned in this post, or any book-inspired Redford movies I might have missed? (My post included only titles for which I read the book or saw the film or both.)

Misty the LGBTQ-friendly cat says: “I have two mums, and I’m fine with that.”

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 on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Misty says Amazon reviews are welcome. πŸ™‚ )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: πŸ™‚

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, and includes many encounters with celebrities. (But not Robert Redford. πŸ™‚ )

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 exploding school budget deficit and a Township Council member’s sudden resignation — is here.