How I Became A Famous Novelist, by Steve Hely

Hello again, friends. We've passed the first lap and here we are back at the beginning. After changing gears (behind the scenes) about nine times, I've finally settled on our next book which will officially kick off the second season of a very special book club (or AVSBC, as television without pity calls us). That book is How I Became A Famous Novelist by Steve Hely.

After some of the heavy reading we've had, I think of this book as a palate cleanser. More importantly, this is one of the few groups out there that I can trust to be literary enough to actually get this book and why it's funny. I think it can open up discussions of what makes "bad" writing... well, bad, and why so much bad writing is popular. So yes, it's a book about writing a book, which delves feet-first into meta territory, but having just sampled some snippets of it, I can tell you it is not only very funny but also very, very smart.

I don't want to give away too much, or ruin any of the jokes in the book (the fictional NYT Bestseller list is particularly hilarious) so I'll add a quick note from the publisher's site here...

"Narrated by an unlikely literary legend, How I Became a Famous Novelist pinballs from the postcollege slums of Boston to the fear-drenched halls of Manhattan’s publishing houses, from the gloomy purity of Montana’s foremost writing workshop to the hedonistic hotel bars of the Sunset Strip.

This is the horrifying, hilarious tale of how Pete Tarslaw’s “pile of garbage,” called The Tornado Ashes Club, became the most talked about, blogged about, read, admired, and reviled novel in America. It will change everything you think you know—about literature, appearance, truth, beauty, and those people out there, somewhere in America, who still care about books."

And I'd like to link to a real fake website for the fake book in the real book. It should give you a pretty good idea of what we're about to get into. (I highly recommend the fake interview with the main character). Additionally, here's an excerpt from the (fake) book The Tornado Ashes Club by the main character, Pete Tarslaw:

In strewn banners that lay like streamers from a longago parade the sun’s fading seraphim rays gleamed onto the hood of the old Ford and ribboned the steel with the meek orange of a June tomato straining at the vine. From the back seat, door open, her nimble fingers moved along the guitar like a weaver’s on a loom. Stitching a song. The cloth she made was a cry of aching American chords, dreamlike warbles built to travel miles of lonesome road. They faded into the twilight, and Silas leaned back on the asphalt, as if to watch them drift into the Arkansas mist.

Away from them, across the field of low-cut durum wheat, they saw Evangeline’s frame, outlined pale in shadow against the highway sky, as it trembled.That’s the way it is with a song, isn’t it? she said. The way it quivers in your heart. Quivers like the wing of a little bird.

In a story too. He spoke it softly in a voice that let her hear how close they were. That’s the way it is with a story. Turns your heart into a bird.

I made this choice because I think we're a group in America that still cares about books. (Hopefully I also found something that no one has read yet!) Discussion questions to follow in a few weeks. Let me know of any questions, concerns, etc.