In The Dilettantes, Alex Belmont agonizes over where his future novel will sit on the shelf in a bookstore:
His (as yet unwritten) book would inevitably be shelved immediately next to those of Saul Bellow. What self-respecting reader would look at the two of them, and then go with the untested, overwrought young punk?… Well, he thought, for every titan of literature, there are two lesser writers who will forever be remembered as their bookends.
I remembered this while I was at Audreys Books for the launch of The Dilettantes this past Saturday, and thought I’d see where my (unplanned, unwritten, unlikely) novel would sit. See if I have anything to be nervous about!
Here is where Laura Frey would sit at Audreys:
Summer at Gaglow by Esther Freud: Alternating between Sarah’s life and her grandmother’s childhood during the First World War, Summer at Gaglow unites four generations of an extraordinary family across the vast reaches of silence, place, loss, and time.
This actually sounds like a great read. I love WWI novels. Fun Fact – the author is the great-granddaughter of Sigmund Freud.
Cherry Blossoms by Wes Funk: …a wild ride – a poignant journey of one spirited woman’s search to find herself.
Apparently won an award for “steamiest read.” I have been on the lookout for erotica lately, but I think I’ll stick to Anais Nin.
After I took the first photo, I realized that if I ever wrote a book, I might write it under my maiden name, or hyphenated. Don’t know where that came from! Anyway, here’s where Laura Higgins(-Frey) would sit:
A Devil is Waiting by Jack Higgins: The President is coming to London, but not to an entirely warm welcome. A fanatical mullah is offering a blessing to anyone who will assassinate the President, and though most London Muslims think the mullah has crossed the line, a few think otherwise.
So, political thriller? Not my bag. Higgins (which is a pseudonym) has written more than 70 books, which is just crazy!
Bookends by Liz Curtis Higgs: Emilie, a no-nonsense sort of woman, is determined to have her way. But Jonas is on a mission as well: He wants to hear Emilie laugh. Often.
This appears to be a Protestant romance and I really don’t have much more to say, except, that’s pretty crazy that “bookends” from The Dilettantes passage showed up, isn’t it?
Of these books, I might be nervous about rubbing shoulders with Ms Freud, but the others are wildly different for anything I would hypothetically write. Summer at Gaglow is going on the TBR, too.
Where would your book sit on the shelf?