Source of book: Borrowed from the library
This book has a rather convoluted history of how it ended up on my reading list. I am part of a local book club - you can find the list of posts for books we read here. For most of our selections, we nominate books, and regular attendees vote on them. The top three for each cycle will be read over the next three months.
Last year, we had a slight mishap. One member (also a legal colleague), nominated I Might Be In Trouble, and it won a slot. The problem was, the book wasn’t due to actually be published until the end of the year. Ooops.
So, we selected a replacement and read that. The book was re-nominated this year, but, due to a particularly strong field, it failed to win. I decided to read it anyway, as did the member who nominated it. So here we are.
I also will mention that this book is a counterpart to Yellowface, recently read and reviewed, as they share a lot of the same elements. Both involve a writer who is struggling to sell, and needs something to jump-start their careers.
But the books go very different places with the idea. The tone is also quite a bit different. Yellowface is a dark and cynical satire, while I Might Be In Trouble is a breezy, sexy, light farce.
In fact, as my friend and colleague agreed, I Might Be In Trouble is pretty much the gay guy equivalent of Chick Lit. This isn’t a bad thing, but definitely do not expect this to be high art. It’s fun and silly and even the thoughtful stuff goes down with a dose of sweet humor.
Young author David Alvarez, who might just be a stand-in for Daniel Aleman (a joke which recurs throughout the book), has had his first book succeed modestly. But his second was a huge flop. He is low on money, low on ideas, and to make things worse, his spiraling mental health led to a breakup with his long-term partner.
Things take a crazy turn, however. Just like in Yellowface, an accidental death is the inciting event that sets the story in motion.
In this case, David has an amazing (and alcohol fueled) night with a man he meets on Tinder. Robert is a bit older, devastatingly handsome, and amazing in bed.
The problem is, when David wakes up next to Robert - with a bad hangover - he discovers that Robert is dead.
This is clearly a problem, and David, not thinking all that clearly (and not remembering all of the night before) is worried he may have killed Robert. If nothing else, he may have accidentally given Robert Xanax for his headache rather than a pain killer. Did this kill him?
Anyway, rather than doing the sensible thing and calling for emergency services, David calls…..his agent, Stacey.
In the list of bad decisions made by book characters, this is high on the list. Stacey is a writer herself….of crime stories. And there is the rumor that maybe she murdered at least a couple of her many ex-husbands, although this may also just be a stupid rumor.
In any case, Stacey’s advice is that they should try to smuggle the body back to Robert’s hotel room. And, as it turns out, Stacey also thinks that maybe the whole incident would make a great book, which David should definitely write.
Yeah, you can see how crazy and silly this will get.
At the risk of spoilers, let’s just say that, among other things, it turns out that Robert wasn’t who he said he was. He was married to a prominent news anchor, who is a fan of David’s books, and recognizes him when they meet under…suspicious circumstances.
There is also a running subplot involving David’s family. His mother was killed in a car accident when he was a kid, and his stepmother, Sheila, has been rather fraught. His younger half brother has been the favorite - and the kid that seems to do everything right. Or at least he does things the way his parents approve of.
David is the stepchild who doesn’t fit in. Although his dad and stepmom are at least not bigots about his sexual orientation, they don’t understand or approve of his choice of writing as a career.
So, you have a stalled career, family issues, and now a dead body. Hijinks ensue.
Yellowface and I Might Be In Trouble share some themes. The big one, of course, is the whole problem of other people’s lives - and deaths - being treated as just another source of inspiration for writing. And also, the way the industry is brutal to writers in general, always looking for the next big thing, and discarding writers if they fail to produce hit after hit.
In this book, there is also a pretty significant satire of gay hook-up culture, New York City high life, and soul-crushing suburban white collar existence.
I did jot down a few interesting lines. I found that the family subplot weirdly resonated for me in unexpected ways. As a writer (non-professional, but still a writer after a fashion), I too have had my birth family complain about being made a part of my story in unflattering ways, for example.
“You’ve turned our entire lives into a product for people to consume, and criticize, and deride!” she said to me.
I’m not sure how much my dad agrees with any of that. He hasn’t even read the whole book, as far as I know, but he’s still resentful - particularly because The Millers upset Sheila, and Sheila should never, ever be made to feel upset.
This particularly hit home, because I have come to realize over the last couple of years, just how much I was expected to take responsibility for my mom’s emotions. I was to carefully avoid ever causing her negative emotions, no matter what. I was literally told that a man has to apologize even if the woman was in the wrong, because her negative emotions were the only thing that mattered.
As I came to realize later, not all female emotions matter - it was specifically my mom and sister who mattered. My wife, and pretty much all other females, did not in fact matter. What it really was about was that, like David’s dad, my dad did not want to have to deal with negative emotions from my mom and sister, and thus insisted that I tamp down my own emotions - and my needs - to do that.
Sheila isn’t a horrible person, but she is oblivious to David’s feelings throughout the book, and the family dynamics mean that David never really feels like a part of the reconstituted family.
Near the end of the book, though, there is an interesting conversation between David and his father, really the first time they have talked about his mother and her death.
“I hate thinking of who I could’ve become if she hadn’t died - if I’d had someone to hold me together instead of allowing me to break into pieces. If I’d had a parent who actually cared about me, and protected me from harm, and made sure I didn’t feel so fucking alone growing up.”
This time, Pa doesn’t have an answer. He turns away from me, staring off into the distance. I didn’t come here to blame or confront him, but he must know it’s true. He must realize all the ways he’s willfully broken me, even without needing to hear it from me. He must be aware that he’s always put his own happiness above mine, prioritized Sheila over me, and shoved me to the side whenever it was convenient for him.
There is some further discussion where his dad complains that David was “unwilling to work with me, not against me.” And I am very sure if this conversation ever took place with my dad, that would be said as well. At least his dad does offer something.
“I couldn’t be the person you needed me to be. And maybe I never will be, no matter how desperately I wish I could.”
I am not the least bit optimistic that, five years after my dad cut me out of his life, that a conversation like this will ever occur, unfortunately. We are still at the point where I am not allowed to express negative emotions about their parenting or behavior after I moved out.
Moving on to the more humorous lines in the book. Like the conversation between David and Stacey.
“I don’t want to write it.”
“You can’t give up now! Not when you’ve been handed the perfect story to tell.”
“Is that what this is, then?” I say with a snort. “Life handing me a story? Cause if that’s the case, life must have a sick sense of humor.”
“Don’t be discouraged. I truly believe things happen for a reason.”
“ Except that, in this case, you were the reason! Stacey, if we’d just left him on my bed, none of this would be happening!”
“But you also wouldn’t be dangerously close to something great! Think of all the possible angles for your next book. A guy wakes up in bed next to a dead man and has to figure out what to do with the body - it could be a thriller, it could be a comedy, it could be a cozy mystery. Or even a literary novel about the fragility of life. It simply has too much potential.”
“That’s why you suggested moving the body, then?” I ask, turning sharply toward her. “To get me dangerously close to a story idea?”
And this later one:
“Is it true? The rumor that you killed some of your ex-husbands?”
Slowly, she turns to face me.
“David,” she says pointedly, “there are only two things you should never ask a woman: how many fake designer pieces she owns, and whether she’s killed any of her husbands.”
I also want to mention a fun description of New York City. Having actually visited last year, this brought back some specific scenes, for sure.
Over the last year, I’ve rarely had a reason to come to this part of the city. Beyond Fifth Avenue, Midtown East is just a collection of skyscrapers and people in suits. There’s none of the charm of Midtown West - none of the Broadway theaters, none of the piano bars tucked along the West Forties, none of the cute restaurants in Hell’s Kitchen.
We stayed just south of Times Square, so we walked all of these places at least a little.
I’ll end with another thoughtful moment that resonates for many of us who grew up in fundamentalist authoritarian families, even those of us who are solidly cishet. This is from an bookstore appearance David does about his book.
“Well…in the book, Daniel is the product of a world that has never allowed him to be complete in the first place. Some of it has to do with the fact that he’s gay - so many gay people grow up pretending to be versions of themselves that don’t really exist, which leaves us struggling to figure out who we really are later down the line. But some of it has to do with other circumstances - growing up without an adequate support system, without access to positive role models. So…once he reaches his twenties, he doesn’t know how to move through the world, except by pretending to be someone he’s not. Every first date he goes on, every new friend he makes, every friendly encounter at a bar he has, he’s forced to play the role of someone confident, someone fun, someone who’s not in crisis.”
There is a lot more, of course. Twists and turns, David and Stacey doing things that seem so implausible and yet….well, all of us attorneys can all too well imagine clients doing stuff like this - and even more crazy. Because we have seen it.
As I said, this isn’t high literature, but it is a fun ride, and even thoughtful in spots. Aleman clearly decide to just take a crazy premise and run with it, and have some fun along the way. I find it interesting that Aleman’s two previous books are about teens (and are kind of YA?) about immigration and family and cross-border life. They sound fairly serious, totally unlike this one. It’s kind of cool, then, that he decided to totally switch gears and write something unlike his other books.
No comments:
Post a Comment