LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
Booked Solid: Dear Will, by Carl Ackerman, April 2000 |
a review by Rebecca James |
Most people would assume that Will Gerard found his niche early: he chose the literary sector in his late teens and continued to move about the world of books well into adulthood. Many promising starts were made as a library shelver, bookseller, publishing sales rep, and partner in a small press, but sooner or later Will would stumble to a halt laden with boredom and complacency. At forty-one years old, Will began to picture his father at the same age. By 1968, Jamie Gerard had served nearly two decades in the CIA, had a wife of fifteen years and two teenage children. "Established was the first adjective that came to mind...a life filled with awards, accomplishments, letters and photos signed by presidents; a life vigorously lived, and still a young man!" What did Will have to show? Stray hairs sprouting from his ears, grandpa glasses and creaking joints. On the precipice of middle age, Will decided to take a risk. He sold his share of the small publishing firm and hung his own shingle: Will Gerard, literary agent. That was apparently a slow week in Washington D.C., so Will was fortunate enough to earn a "splashy" write-up in the Post's Style section. The mail came in by the truckload; every dusty manuscript in and around the metro area arrived on Will's doorstep, much to the chagrin of his postal worker, Wade and Will's adolescent assistant (and nephew) Teddy. When the fax machine finally started to smoke and Teddy refused to answer the incessantly ringing phone one more time, Will decided it was time for a break. He packed a bag and pointed his car in the direction of peace and tranquility, none other than our lovely Lewes, Delaware. A novel of familiar doubts, the question of love, and the price of independence, Dear Will was refreshingly simple. Frequently humorous, occasionally sad, Karl Ackerman's latest meandered through many areas readers may recognize, both literally and figuratively. A wide cast of supporting characters joined Will's life as he moved through a period of changes in his career, romantic life, and domestic routine. Readers meet Alejo & Michael (the gay couple that 'accidentally' loaned their beach house to two single friends at the same time), Annie (a love interest with a loud and swiftly ticking biological clock) and an array of writers and stressed out publishers. Some of the novels funniest moments arrived in the form of Norton Tazwell, a Civil War fanatic and grizzled retiree who spent the majority of his time living in his own time-warp, perpetually set in 1864. He approached Will with a partially complete novel of his favorite time period that was destined for the bestseller's list. With over $300,000 on the line, Will worked frantically to make Norton finish the novel on time. Norton, however, is not a man to rush. After all, there were no cell phones, e-mails or voice messaging services in 1864, and money meant little to someone with no bills or debt (he preferred confederate currency anyway). But with a harassed New York publishing rep named Rita breathing down his neck, Will broke out the Wild Turkey, took a deep breath and forged ahead. Readers also encounter Jodie, a young biography writer who submitted the story of her childhood adoption after reading the Post article. The dates and locations she described coincided a little too neatly with Will's own youthful indiscretions, which raised some difficult issues for everyone involved. Will's character was indeed very, very human, and readers will find it hard not to like him. "Will thought about the ties that bind parent to parent, and parent to child; he thought about the biology of love, and the notion that science might someday find a gene that inclined a person to, say, watch birds. He thought about Jodie's boyfriend, who might become her husband one day, and the father of her childrenhis own grandchildrenkids who might be tall and thin, or left-handed, or dark-haired, or bookish, or solitary in the Gerard family way. It was a stunning thing to contemplate. The tree is the common metaphor for families, and Will had always loved the notion of the roots of a clan growing ever deeper as more of its tangled branches shot skyward. But really there was a better metaphor in the heavens: stars, constellations, whole galaxies wheeling across an empty universe, the precise relationship between any two bodies never fixed, but simply a function of time, and one's own position." When thoughts such as these surfaced, Will was forced to re-examine his relationship with Annie, and his inability to commit to their future together. What exactly defines a family? Are the families we choose to create just as viable as those with which we are born? With these questions, Dear Will strikes a familiar chord with all types of families, and GLBT readers will find it to be a friendly and inclusive novel. Ackerman has created a highly enjoyable little world of friends, lovers, and everything in between. Rebecca James is an aspiring writer in Rehoboth. She recently began practicing massage locally after completing certification at the Baltimore School of Massage. She may be reached at 226-9685 for more information. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 10, No. 4, May 5, 2000. |