Category: Ian Shane

Radio Radio by Ian Shane: A Tom Petty Song in Novel Form

Radio RadioRadio Radio

by Ian Shane

DETAILS:
Publication Date: July 17, 2008
Format: eBook
Length: 253 pg.
Read Date: December 7-8, 2022

And there goes the last DJ
Who plays what he wants to play
And says what he wants to say
Hey hey hey
And there goes your freedom of choice
There goes the last human voice
And there goes the last DJ

Sure, that’s Tom Petty and not Ian Shane. But I had that song stuck in my head for almost the entire novel, they might as well be writing about the same guy.

What’s Radio Radio About?

Erik Randall is a DJ—that’s all he’s ever wanted to do. He loves being on the radio, sharing music with whatever corner of the world he can. He comes alive on the microphone, he seems to be good at the technical bits, and he loves the medium. What it has been, what it is, what it could be—but he’s very much not a fan of what it’s becoming.

He’s a True Believer, though, and is convinced that if given the opportunity, radio can still be great. He’s even formulating a plan so that one day, he can make at least one station great.

We don’t meet him on that day—in fact, shortly after we meet him, his station comes under the thumb of a corporation that makes cookie-cutter stations all over the country. In the same way you know what you’re going to be served at an Olive Garden in a different state from home, you know what you’re going to hear on the radio in your rental car once you hear a familiar station tagline. That’s what they’re going to turn his radio station into.

About the same time, he meets a local singer/songwriter, Myra. Erik’s still reeling from a semi-recent breakup and isn’t in the right frame of mind to think about romance—but she’s the kind of woman he’s dreamed about. His co-worker/friend, Shakespeare, has been pushing him for months to date again, and once Shakespeare meets Myra, he increases the pressure.

His professional life is falling apart, his personal life is looking promising for the first time in forever—can Erik handle it?

So, what did I think about Radio Radio?

I thought there was something grating—something blindly immature about Erik’s attitude and antics at work. Yes, he’s firmly in the model of the rebel DJ who cares more about the art than the business side. And as such, I can enjoy the character. Maybe it’s because I’m reading this through the eyes of someone in 2022 so I have 14 years of insight to know just how Quixotic Erik is being and how reality is going to hit him hard. Shakespeare, on the other hand, I could get behind—he’s a realist. There’s a romantic streak in him—he wants Erik and his vision to have a chance, but he knows better. I was enjoying the novel, but I really wasn’t on board with it. Which isn’t to say I didn’t find Erik amusing—I just found him a grating sort of amusing.

But then, Myra comes on the scene and two things happen. Erik starts to change, the bits of his personality that grate on me get pushed to the background.* Secondly, Ian Shane writes this stuff really well—like the way that Erik and Myra interact, the way that Erik makes an utter fool of himself because of her, the way that Myra and Shakespeare interact—this is where Shane’s later novels shine, and you can see him building that ability here. If this was the first Ian Shane book I read, shortly after Myra comes on the scene is where I’d order his next two books.

* I am fine with a protagonist grating on me—as long as there’s something about them or their story I can get behind. But I prefer the alternative.

I should also note, that some of Erik’s work attitudes and behaviors remind me of other characters in similar situations—the works of Adam Shaw, Matthew Hanover, and Andy Abramowitz jump to mind—so I’m not trying to say that Shane messed up by having Erik be this way. I just find it grating. What he does and says are, by and large, what an immature twenty-something would think and do. As he is an immature twenty-something, he’s spot-on.

Speaking of needing to grow up a little—a lot of the ways he approaches the big changes he needs to make, the conversations around them, and the way he reacts to people like Shakespeare making those changes himself, displays that immaturity. In those cases, I find it endearing and relatable.

Maybe I’m just the office crank? Out of the office issues don’t bother me as much.

One other challenge for me is that like with Postgraduate, I felt like Shane was judging me for my musical taste. And he probably should—because my musical taste not the kind of thing that Erik Randal (or anyone at Championship Vinyl) would approve of—very I’m fairly plebian, really. Frankly, I’m okay with that—and I did make a note or two to follow up on some music. I do wish I could hear Myra’s stuff, because I think I could get into it. That’s not a reflection on the novel, I just wish Shane would write a character with mainstream taste who is seen in a positive light.

This is a sweet book—there’s good character development, a strong cast of supporting characters (most of whom I didn’t mention) that I would love to see again in some form, great banter, solid comedy in a variety of forms, insight into an industry I know practically nothing about, and a sweet and well-told romantic story. It’s not as strong as his later novels, but it’s easy to see that he’ll be capable of greatness. Buy this book, it’ll make you happy.


4 Stars

PUB DAY REPOST: In Ten Years by Ian Shane: They’re Perfect For Each Other…But Can They Make It Work? Do They Even Want to Try?

In Ten Years

In Ten Years

by Ian Shane

eARC, 261 pg.
2021

Read: July 23-26, 2021

What’s In Ten Years About?

In 2000, two Denver University students meet in such a way that practically guarantees Jack will have one of dullest (and probably worse than just dull) twenty-first birthdays. Liz unintentionally contributed to that but also did everything she could to make up for that. After this, she decides that the two of them are going to be great friends.

After spending a couple of chapters in 2000, we see them again in 2009—and it turns out that Liz’s plan to be great friends worked. They’ve become incredibly close, the Two Musketeers. They’re so close that everyone (including every romantic interest they ever have) assumes they have/are/want to be involved. The idea never really lodges with either of them—and they don’t understand why no one believes them.

We catch up to them in 2018. At some point, they’ve made that pact that you’ve seen in countless sitcoms and movies, if they’re not married by _____ time, they’ll marry each other.* In this case, it’s when Jack turns 40 (he’s a little younger than her, so at that point, they’ll both be 40), and in 2018 that’s a year away.

* The scene where the pact is made is just about perfect, I should add.

Both of them try to treat the pact as a joke—while hoping the other forgot about it. But neither did and despite the preposterous notion—they both kind of take it seriously. They can’t imagine not growing old together, why not?

And then one of them starts to realize that their interest in the pact isn’t because of a drunken promise, pragmatism, or the lack of a better option—but there just might be something right about the whole idea, a reality that’s been before them all along.

Supporting Characters

I’d intended on spending a few paragraphs talking about both Jack and Liz, and after a couple of failed attempts, I realized I couldn’t do either justice without just recapping the whole novel. So, instead, let’s talk about the other characters.

I wasn’t that far into the 2018 part when I made a note about, “Of course they end up together, everyone else they know is horrible.” Which was a little harsh, but essentially true—that’s up to and including their closest friends. Thankfully, that didn’t stay that way—sure, their friends didn’t make a great first impression, but as I got to spend some more time with them, I ended up liking them. They also proved to be good friends to Jack and Liz.

But when it comes to other romantic interests or dalliances? The reader can understand the appeal of (most) of the people they’re interested in—at least initially. But you don’t spend time thinking, “yeah, Person X would really be a good long-term partner for them.” I might have appreciated it more had I actually considered anyone to be a rival for Liz or Jack. But maybe after a few chapters, I’d already ruled out anyone who wasn’t Jack or Liz for the other.

I’m not sure it matters, ultimately. But what Shane did give each character plenty of frogs of various sides and coloring to kiss so that they’d inevitably discover their Prince/Princess.

The supporting characters, from college roommates to overbearing and overly-inquisitive mothers, to Russian hockey players to waitresses in a bar or inappropriate former students are well-written, they all stand out as pretty well-rounded (at least as much as someone who’s only around for a few paragraphs can be).

The Dialogue

I talked about this a little in the Q&A with Shane, and you should read what he said about writing it. My favorite part of this novel was the dialogue. Jack has some great lines when he’s upset or angry with someone, for example.

But what really won me over was the interaction with Jack and Liz—either when they’re being silly about something or when they’re talking about something serious. This is fitting for a contemporary When Harry Met Sally-esque story, Harry and Sally talking to each other is what made viewers fall for the pair, and Shane hits some Ephron-level interchanges with Jack and Liz.

So, what did I think about In Ten Years?

There are a few other highlights that I really don’t have the time or space to get into, I’d recommend checking out the aforementioned Q&A with Shane that I posted yesterday to catch a few other selling points for this book.

The novel is just funny—humor that arises from the situations and the characters’ inherent and reflexive wit and charm. It’s in the way they react to situations, and not because silly and madcap things happen around or to them (well, sure, there’s a little bit of that). Shane’s voice is part of it, too—but mostly it’s because these are smart, funny people who express that.

I can’t get into it without ruining anything, but there’s a chapter in the 2009 portion of the book that is my favorite chapter of 2021—it was so painful, and yet so funny. Shane was careful not to go too far in either direction, which would’ve blunted the impact. Instead, he’s able to portray the emotionally damaging circumstance and let the character’s wit and the ridiculousness of the situation keep it from being maudlin. The rest of the book is just as good, and just as balanced.

In Ten Years ticked just about every box that I can think of as a reader. I both couldn’t wait to find out what happened and didn’t want to get to the end because I was having such a blast. There’s a fresh-feeling take on a tried-and-true story (two, I’d argue), characters I genuinely liked, dialogue that I’d frequently reread a time or to before moving on, and a great mix of emotion and laughs. I wasn’t even 20% through the book when I noticed I was highlighting and making notes too often—had I stopped there, I had more things than I could squeeze into a post. I can only imagine how massive my notes collection would’ve been had I not made a conscious effort to stop. There was just so much that I wanted to remember about this book.

I know that I’m going to be talking about this book in January when I look back on the best of 2021, and I probably won’t be alone.


5 Stars

In Ten Years by Ian Shane: They’re Perfect For Each Other…But Can They Make It Work? Do They Even Want to Try?

In Ten Years

In Ten Years

by Ian Shane

eARC, 261 pg.
2021

Read: July 23-26, 2021

What’s In Ten Years About?

In 2000, two Denver University students meet in such a way that practically guarantees Jack will have one of dullest (and probably worse than just dull) twenty-first birthdays. Liz unintentionally contributed to that but also did everything she could to make up for that. After this, she decides that the two of them are going to be great friends.

After spending a couple of chapters in 2000, we see them again in 2009—and it turns out that Liz’s plan to be great friends worked. They’ve become incredibly close, the Two Musketeers. They’re so close that everyone (including every romantic interest they ever have) assumes they have/are/want to be involved. The idea never really lodges with either of them—and they don’t understand why no one believes them.

We catch up to them in 2018. At some point, they’ve made that pact that you’ve seen in countless sitcoms and movies, if they’re not married by _____ time, they’ll marry each other.* In this case, it’s when Jack turns 40 (he’s a little younger than her, so at that point, they’ll both be 40), and in 2018 that’s a year away.

* The scene where the pact is made is just about perfect, I should add.

Both of them try to treat the pact as a joke—while hoping the other forgot about it. But neither did and despite the preposterous notion—they both kind of take it seriously. They can’t imagine not growing old together, why not?

And then one of them starts to realize that their interest in the pact isn’t because of a drunken promise, pragmatism, or the lack of a better option—but there just might be something right about the whole idea, a reality that’s been before them all along.

Supporting Characters

I’d intended on spending a few paragraphs talking about both Jack and Liz, and after a couple of failed attempts, I realized I couldn’t do either justice without just recapping the whole novel. So, instead, let’s talk about the other characters.

I wasn’t that far into the 2018 part when I made a note about, “Of course they end up together, everyone else they know is horrible.” Which was a little harsh, but essentially true—that’s up to and including their closest friends. Thankfully, that didn’t stay that way—sure, their friends didn’t make a great first impression, but as I got to spend some more time with them, I ended up liking them. They also proved to be good friends to Jack and Liz.

But when it comes to other romantic interests or dalliances? The reader can understand the appeal of (most) of the people they’re interested in—at least initially. But you don’t spend time thinking, “yeah, Person X would really be a good long-term partner for them.” I might have appreciated it more had I actually considered anyone to be a rival for Liz or Jack. But maybe after a few chapters, I’d already ruled out anyone who wasn’t Jack or Liz for the other.

I’m not sure it matters, ultimately. But what Shane did give each character plenty of frogs of various sides and coloring to kiss so that they’d inevitably discover their Prince/Princess.

The supporting characters, from college roommates to overbearing and overly-inquisitive mothers, to Russian hockey players to waitresses in a bar or inappropriate former students are well-written, they all stand out as pretty well-rounded (at least as much as someone who’s only around for a few paragraphs can be).

The Dialogue

I talked about this a little in the Q&A with Shane, and you should read what he said about writing it. My favorite part of this novel was the dialogue. Jack has some great lines when he’s upset or angry with someone, for example.

But what really won me over was the interaction with Jack and Liz—either when they’re being silly about something or when they’re talking about something serious. This is fitting for a contemporary When Harry Met Sally-esque story, Harry and Sally talking to each other is what made viewers fall for the pair, and Shane hits some Ephron-level interchanges with Jack and Liz.

So, what did I think about In Ten Years?

There are a few other highlights that I really don’t have the time or space to get into, I’d recommend checking out the aforementioned Q&A with Shane that I posted yesterday to catch a few other selling points for this book.

The novel is just funny—humor that arises from the situations and the characters’ inherent and reflexive wit and charm. It’s in the way they react to situations, and not because silly and madcap things happen around or to them (well, sure, there’s a little bit of that). Shane’s voice is part of it, too—but mostly it’s because these are smart, funny people who express that.

I can’t get into it without ruining anything, but there’s a chapter in the 2009 portion of the book that is my favorite chapter of 2021—it was so painful, and yet so funny. Shane was careful not to go too far in either direction, which would’ve blunted the impact. Instead, he’s able to portray the emotionally damaging circumstance and let the character’s wit and the ridiculousness of the situation keep it from being maudlin. The rest of the book is just as good, and just as balanced.

In Ten Years ticked just about every box that I can think of as a reader. I both couldn’t wait to find out what happened and didn’t want to get to the end because I was having such a blast. There’s a fresh-feeling take on a tried-and-true story (two, I’d argue), characters I genuinely liked, dialogue that I’d frequently reread a time or to before moving on, and a great mix of emotion and laughs. I wasn’t even 20% through the book when I noticed I was highlighting and making notes too often—had I stopped there, I had more things than I could squeeze into a post. I can only imagine how massive my notes collection would’ve been had I not made a conscious effort to stop. There was just so much that I wanted to remember about this book.

I know that I’m going to be talking about this book in January when I look back on the best of 2021, and I probably won’t be alone.


5 Stars

A Few (More) Quick Questions with…Ian Shane

In Ten YearsI’d fully intended for my post about In Ten Years by Ian Shane to go up this morning along with this Q&A. But as is so often the case with a book that I absolutely loved, I just don’t like what I’ve managed to write about it—and even then, I’m only half-done with my outline.

But I want to start talking about this book and hopefully convince some of my readers to read itor at the very least, to buy it. It comes out on August 17, but don’t wait until then to order it. So, let’s start with the synopsis from Shane’s website, so you’ll have a general idea what we’re talking about in a couple of the questions. Then I’ll dive in with this great Q&Awell, the Qs are passable, the great stuff comes in the As.

Jock Jack and socially awkward Liz weren’t likely to become best friends, but they’ve had each other’s back since college. On a night both of their romantic lives implode, they make a pact; if they aren’t married in ten years, they will marry each other. With a year left before their deadline, Jack and Liz make a mad dash to find “The One” while navigating a minefield of modern dating complications.

Despite their friends’ efforts to convince them that it’s a terrible idea, Jack and Liz devise an unconventional life partnership plan. However, a face from the past and hidden jealousies and feelings neither one will ever admit threatens their friendship.


Your male protagonist, Jack, is a former college hockey player, and now plays with a bunch of other men in their thirties. I don’t think I’d ever read a hockey scene before—as far as I can tell, you capture both the feel of a game and feel of being on the stakes realistically. Is this first-hand knowledge, or the product of research? How do you decide to let this be Jack’s “thing”?

First off, I’m a huge hockey fan. Skill level be damned; if I find a hockey game on TV, there’s a better than average chance that the next three hours of my life have just been planned. Growing up in southern Indiana, there wasn’t a huge youth hockey movement there, so I never played the game. However, a good friend of mine in college, Turner, did. I had pieced together things he talked about over the years and wrote a draft of the pick-up game scene. I sent it to Turner, and he told me my description was about ninety percent accurate. He gave me some notes on what I needed to change.

I live in Denver now, and it’s a huge hockey town. The University of Denver has a rich tradition of winning championships. It just seemed too perfect to have him be a hockey player.

You’ve called this “a contemporary When Harry Met Sally,” was that the goal, or did that just come out once you started writing? How did you land on doing your take on the “if we’re not married by X…” story?

The idea for the story hit me when I found an article online about marriage pacts and platonic marriages, and I thought it was good fodder for a story. I originally planned for In Ten Years to be a novella, just focusing on the present-day storyline. The more I thought about the story, the more of a background of who these people were and how they became friends. As I was writing their backstories, I knew that there would have to be three eras of their lives, just like When Harry Met Sally, so I decided to run with it. I even name-checked the movie in the first part just for the fun of it.

I also wanted to put in some of the more modern means for dating, which didn’t exist when When Harry Met Sally came out. There’s a chapter devoted to Tinder and one that makes fun of speed dating.

Speaking of When Harry Met Sally, what’s your favorite Nora Ephron work (novel, screenplay, essay, etc)?

Not to sound like an uneducated rube, but I’m not that well versed in her work . . . so I’ll stick with When Harry Met Sally.

It’s hard to beath WHMS anyway, no matter how versed you are.

You used dual perspectives here, for the first time, I believe. What were the specific challenges of telling your story that way? How was it writing from the female Point of View? Are you going to be returning to one/both of those in the future?

Yes, this is my first time. Not too long before I wrote In Ten Years, I read Nick Spalding’s hilarious book, Dry Hard, and I loved the multiple narrations. I really wanted to give it a try. It was challenging to arrange the story so Jack and Liz could alternate chapters. Some chapters could have easily been told from either’s point of view, but others had to be from a specific character. I pantsed this book more than plotting it, so it was challenging to make sure I had the proper balance.

Writing from the female point of view was a bit challenging. My first draft was designed to be as light on Liz as possible, and then I would present it to a female beta and get some feedback. The response was . . . polite. She gave me some pointers on things women would never say.

I also ignored the paradigm that two different characters would not think and talk alike. I figured since Liz and Jack had been a massive part of each other’s lives for almost twenty years, their phraseology would blend.

I absolutely loved this dialogue. How do you approach a scene (especially a Liz/Jack scene)? How many rewrites does it take to get something right? Do you sit around talking to yourself so you can hear it? Or do you just know?

Thank you very much. Dialogue is where I start with a book. I treat the early writings almost like a screenplay. I love witty banter. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a huge fan of Aaron Sorkin, and I want to bring that kind of level dialogue to my writing. As I’m writing dialogue, I write responses as I wish I would say in real life, but it wouldn’t be the right thing to say for most people I talk to. The case with Jack and Liz is that they have been around each other for so long, they bypass social convention and just say it like it is.

I’ve also been known to talk out dialogue as it’s forming in my mind. Before the pandemic, I took public transportation to work, and I would be inspired to work out dialogue with many people around. I would put on my headphones, record on my phone, and act like I was on a call.

As far as rewriting, it takes time to figure out the right words. Again, going back to my Sorkin devotion, I want the words to play like music. I’ll read it aloud, and I’ll listen to it with Word’s “Read Aloud” tool to get the rhythm right. It’s amazing how you can punch up a line of dialogue just by making a minor adjustment.

You’ve got a memoir coming out shortly, can you tell us a little about that? Do you have anything else in progress?

Being the guy who wrote two novels centered around music, it should come as no surprise that my memoir will be based on songs that have been important to my life with stories from my life. As the pandemic started, I was having a hard time writing fiction. Hearing nothing but COVID was stifling my mojo. In Ten Years had already been written and I was going to release it last June, but the last part of the story was supposed to take place in the spring of 2020. I shelved In Ten Years until I could figure out what I wanted to do with it. I took a lot of time researching elements that happened in the years in the backstory, so it wasn’t as simple as just shifting the dates.

A very close friend suggested that if I can’t write fiction, I should write non-fiction to keep the muscle memory. It started a blog series titled, Sundry Notes of Music. It started off like Songbook by Nick Hornby, which was approached by a music critic, then it evolved into my version of Al Young’s musical memoir, Drowning in the Sea of Love. Sundry Notes of Music will have stories about lost loves, my first trip to Europe, and how I started writing my first book.

I’m also plotting a sequel to my first novel, Radio Radio, but that’s way into the future.

Thanks for your time and for In Ten Years—I loved it, and hope you have a lot of success with it.

Thank you so much for reading it and the kind words.


A Few Quick Questions With…Ian Shane

So, I just blathered on about Postgraduate, the great novel by Ian Shane. And now, here’s a little from the Man Himself in response to some questions I had for him. I hope you enjoy. For those keeping score at home, after a few Q&As of one of my theories being validated, I totally whiffed one here. I still liked the answer, just wish I’d asked a better question 🙂

Most authors have dozens of ideas bouncing around their craniums at once — what was it about this idea that made you say, “Yup — this is the one for me.”?
First, in the interest of full disclosure, Postgraduate is semi-autobiographical. For a while, I was running an Internet classic alternative radio station (which has been offline for a couple of years). During this time, I was having a hard time finding a story I wanted to write. There would be ideas here and there, but nothing ever developed into a compelling story. On a whim, I picked up a copy of Old Records Never Die by Eric Spitznagel. It’s a memoir based on Spitznagel’s quest to rebuild his lost record collection. Not copies of the albums he lost, mind you…the actual albums. His musical mid-life crisis inspired me to write about mine.
In the writing of Postgraduate, what was the biggest surprise about the writing itself? Either, “I can’t believe X is so easy!” or “If I had known Y was going to be so hard, I’d have skipped this and watched more TV”.
I was really amazed at how quickly I wrote the first draft. I have a day job, so the amount of time I have to write is limited. I decided to track my progress on Facebook to keep myself accountable to my friends. The first night, I wrote 1330 words. The next night, I wrote 1557 words. Then it started to become a thing…how many nights can I write more than a thousand words? In the first week, I wrote 10,269 words. I started Postgraduate on October 25, 2017, and I finished the first draft on February 1, 2018. The total was 92,947 words in 97 days. I’ve never had a writing streak like that before, and I am not likely to ever have one like that again.
Danny’s reaction to the news that his favorite record store had closed (and some time ago), was one of my favorite parts of Postgraduate. Is it one of the semi-autobiographical parts of the book? Tell us a little about the store/its closing.
This is very autobiographical. There really was a Cats Record Store in my hometown (Evansville, Indiana). Cats was the place to find stuff from The Smiths or Elvis Costello. It was as I described it in the book…hardwood floors, cedar walls, and a general warm feeling when you walked in. There were two locations, on the east side and north side of town (the north side was the one I went to often). Not too long after I left town, my brother had told me that Cats had closed. I just assumed he meant the one on the east side. A few years later, on a visit to town, I decided to go to the north side and see what they had to offer. When I got there, I was grief-stricken to see the “For Lease” sign on the door. It really felt like a death.

However, showing that Cats had closed also served two subtler purposes. One, I wanted to have something unexpected to happen for Danny. It shatters the frozen-in-time, idealized image of the area around campus he had in his head. Something had to be not quite right, and that’s what I chose to be the missing ingredient.

And, as an aging Gen-Xer, I wanted to have an image of how people get music today, as opposed to how we did it when I was a college student. Hard copies, at least on a digital format, have fallen out of favor with “the kids.” I realize by saying this, I run the risk of sounding like the old guy who complains that a ticket for the moving picture show used to be only a nickel.

Why is it, do you think, that male readers respond so strongly to books about music? (your novels, Hornby’s, etc.)
I think it’s because guys (especially when we’re in our teens and 20s) have a terrible time expressing how we feel. I don’t want to get all “blame it on society,” but we were taught at an early age to not show our emotions—boys don’t cry (you know, kinda like that Cure song), and we have a hard time hashing out what was going on in our heads. It’s a thing of beauty when a songwriter reads our minds and says something more eloquently than we ever could and does it in 4/4 time. It grabs us and shakes us to our cores. In a way, music becomes a part of who we are. That’s the reason we made mixtapes to impress women. We couldn’t find the words to say we liked them and wanted to get to know them better, but Neil Finn could. So, we’d let him and the rest of Crowded House stand proxy for us for four and a half minutes.

When we read a book like High Fidelity or Postgraduate, we relate to using music as a primary coping mechanism (like Rob and Danny respectively) more than we get Heathcliff walking along the moors. While dealing with my last breakup, I listened to “Don’t Look Back in Anger” by Oasis on a continuous loop while drinking a heroic amount of whiskey. I didn’t spit out a two-page soliloquy while standing on my patio and looking at the moon. It’s just how we do it now.

I’d imagine that in a novel like this, it’d be difficult to keep from making Sam (the one that got away) an idealized woman, or Angela (the adulterous ex) into . . . an idealized harlot, I guess. Especially with this being written from Danny’s perspective. How do you walk the line?
I don’t really know if I thought about it too much while I was writing Angela and Sam. I just had a full picture in my mind who these women were…their wonderful qualities and their flaws. I had an idea of what made Danny and Angela work and what didn’t. The same was true with Danny and Sam.
Thanks for your time and willingness to let me badger you with these questions – again, I really enjoyed Postgraduate and truly hope that it finds the audience it deserves.

Pub Day Post: Postgraduate by Ian Shane: A Funny, Nostalgic, Touching Novel about Maybe Finding Lost Loves/Dreams/Friendships

PostgraduatePostgraduate

by Ian Shane


Kindle Edition, 409 pg.
45rpm Media, 2019

Read: March 25 – 26, 2019

“. . . you did a bad, bad thing.”

“Then why are you helping me?”

“Because that’s what friends do. Someone needs to stand next to you when the world falls down around your ankles, and the other starting players seem to be leaving you one by one. You’re still my boy, but I question your decision-making skills.”

We meet Danny Jackson on one of the worst days of his life — the day his marriage legally ended (it was over long before). Danny’s quick to assure us that he’s had worse days, and not just because he doth protest too much (no matter what it looks like at the moment). He’s 44, about to be kicked out of his house, in a job he hates (many reasons are bigger than being forced to use Comic Sans, as bad as that is) and really has no idea what the rest of the year will bring — much less anything after that.

One of the many accommodations Danny made to get along with his wife was to trim his 4,000+ CD collection down to 150, and now that he finds himself without a real home or family and a strong need to fill up his time so he can’t dwell on that he starts rebuilding that collection — not with current music, either. But with the songs and albums that defined him at that age where music is so important to define, mold and express one’s identity — college. Before long, Danny’s investing some real money in stereo equipment as well as CDs. At one point a neighbor/friend from the apartment building says something about Danny having enough of both to start his own radio station.

This idea sparks something within Danny and he sets to do just that — not a real radio station (or even a pirate station), but an Internet radio station modeled on the one he learned all about Radio on in college, “The L.” While putting in the work necessary to launch an Internet station, Danny starts dreaming and scheming. I was honestly a little surprised to see how much work was involved, but after reading this I realize that’s just because I know so little about radio (even online) and hadn’t given it any real thought before.

He doesn’t just want to launch this passion project, he’d like to bury the hatchet with a bunch of people from his college days — and what better way to do both together than by launching the station in their old studio while they’re all returning to say goodbye to a mentor as he prepares to retire. Danny’s already speaking for the event, so that part will be easy. He trusts the others will be there, too — getting them to go along with his plans will be the trick.

Danny doesn’t know what kind of audience his online version of “The L” is going to have, but he figures there’s some audience — he’d listen to the kind of station he’ll be launching, why wouldn’t others his age? So kicks off (and then some) this story of friendship, lost loves, abandoned dreams, the love of music, and the attempt to recapture what we’ve lost (through fault of our own, or not). While we follow Danny’s rebuilding in 2017, we also get (in alternating chapters) the story of how the magic was assembled back in the day, and how it primarily fell to pieces (Danny had a significant roll in that, it turns out).

Danny’s glory days really were that (until they weren’t) and it was a lot of fun reading about them — especially when Sam’s on the scene. His 44th year wasn’t that great for him (it did improve from that inauspicious start), but it was almost as much fun to read, especially when Sam’s on the scene. Sam’s the one who got away from Danny, the love of his life, etc. She’s close to idealized, but Shane’s careful not to let Danny do that to her (more than anyone would in memory).

The focus of the novel is (rightly) those two, but Danny’s friendships with Marty — the Program Director of the L — and Tom are easily as important. The novel could’ve worked almost as well with the Danny/Tom relationship as the center instead of Danny/Sam. Tom was Danny’s high school friend who came to college with him and developed a radio show with him, both planning to keep doing radio together after college. One of my few problems I have is that I think we needed a bit more of Tom early on. I know he’s Danny’s partner, and the emotions both have toward each other (in the 90’s and 2017) indicate that, but he always seems to be playing second fiddle to Sam or Marty. Marty’s sort of the older brother figure to Sam, Danny and Tom — down for a good time as well as advice, and is just cool to read.

Mindy, Marty’s co-host, is a character I could’ve used a little more of, too — just because I really liked her. The narrative nowhere needs more of her, but I just liked her and wanted more. The professor, Dr. Black, they assemble to honor is a perfect mentor figure. Even Angela, the adulterous ex- that derailed Danny’s career, is a pretty well-designed and used character — but she’s about the only one in the book I don’t want to see more of.

I don’t mean this next sentence as a negative, no matter what it sounds like. There are few narrative surprises for the reader — by a certain point, you know pretty much how each storyline is going to go. This doesn’t mean that there aren’t surprises (pleasant and otherwise) for the reader, but it’s not that kind of story. You may not know exactly where Plot X will land, but you’ll know the ZIP Code for it early on. And that’s fine — the pleasure’s in the journey, and Danny ending up where you know he will is just a satisfying confirmation.

If you like Danny, you’ll like this book. I’m not sure why you wouldn’t like Danny, but I have to admit it’s possible. I think we clicked almost instantly, I was definitely on board in the first couple of pages. It’s possible you may not like Danny as a person, but would like his voice (well, Shane’s voice), I suppose. That should carry you through, too.

On his website, Shane talks about the impact Aaron Sorkin has on his writing — when you get to passages like this, it’s pretty obvious:

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t think you’d find out.”

“Really?”

“Did you have any idea before today?”

“None.”

“Then it’s a mystery to me as to why I’d think that.”

I can’t help but hear that last line in a Richard Schiff voice. But the book doesn’t only read like the work of a Sorkin-devotee. It has the general feel of Hornby, Tropper, Norman, Weiner, Russo (in his lighter moments), Perrotta, etc. The writing is engaging, catchy, welcoming. Shane writes in a way that you like reading his prose — no matter what’s happening. It’s pleasant and charming with moments of not-quite-brilliance, but close enough. Unlike Sorkin, Shane’s style doesn’t draw attention to itself, if anything, it deflects it. It’s not flashy, but it’s good. I could’ve easily read another 400 pages of these people without breaking a sweat.

You know how maybe the best thing about Zach Braff’s Garden State was that killer soundtrack? That’s almost the case here. Shane has assembled a great playlist on Spotify to go with the novel — stuff that Danny refers to in the book, and stuff he’d listen to. I’ve been introduced to a lot of music that I probably should know through it. Most of what I’ve written in the last week (and some of what I’ve read) has had it as a soundtrack, and that’ll likely hold true for a while longer. I’m embarrassed to admit how little of it I knew going in — Danny, Tom and especially Marty would be ashamed that someone who went to college in about the same time as they did wouldn’t know this stuff. Maybe I should’ve listened to more college radio. Unlike, Garden State, Postgraduate can be read without it (and without knowing the music), but this is a great touch. If for no other reason than there’s going to be a couple of songs you’re going to be curious about after reading about them, this is a great resource.

How much did I like the book? Despite being given a copy (which I’m very grateful for), I bought one. I might give a few away. Danny feels like an old friend, the world is comfortable and relaxing to be in (I should stress about 87.3 percent of what I know about radio comes from this book, so it’s not that). This belongs in the same discussion with the best of Hornby and Tropper — it’s exactly the kind of thing I hope to read when I’m not reading a “genre” novel (the problems with that clause deserve their own post, but you all know what I mean). There’s an eleven year gap between Shane’s first two novels, after reading this you can only hope that his third will arrive much sooner. While I wait for whatever’s next, you should go read Postgraduate. You’ll feel better than James Brown if you do.

Disclaimer: I was provided with a copy of this book by the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

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4 1/2 Stars

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