A LIKELY STORY

Father and daughter novelists with a strained relationship each struggle to realize their dreams.

In the wake of her mother Claire’s death, Isabelle Manning has a goal, and it’s a lofty one: publish a novel and make her esteemed novelist father, Ward, proud. But when Isabelle turns 35 and is no closer to being published, her goal begins to feel like a far-off dream: “Isabelle was the daughter of a real artist, a famous artist, and she was of him, his genetic material tucked deep in the fibers of her own DNA. It was difficult to exaggerate how exceptional it had felt to be the only child of a world-renowned writer. And how much it had fucked with her.” For his part, Ward does not seem concerned with Isabelle’s failure or particularly burdened by any sort of familial responsibility. Supplied with a hefty ego, Ward is more worried about not being able to finish another novel before he dies and how his fame will live on after him: “Ward felt a surge of melancholy that he would not get to read his own obituary, which he very much hoped would include the phrase ‘greatest novelist of our time’ with the absolute minimum number of modifiers.” Believing her father to be seriously ill, Isabelle’s desire to make Ward proud takes on a new urgency, and, when she discovers a gift her departed mother left her, Isabelle’s ethics start unraveling. The story is told by switching between the past and the present and through five voices—those of Isabelle; Ward; Claire; Isabelle’s on-again, off-again best friend, Brian; and a manuscript whose author is slowly revealed. In a novel largely about the creation of novels, McMullan Abramson avoids the pitfalls of jargony writing for the in-crowd and instead crafts a universal story about family, dreams, and the stories that linger long after we are gone.

Complex characters weigh the benefits of sacrificing their morals to achieve a lasting legacy in this well-told tale.