Cal Cunningham is a typical aspiring author in New York City: arrogant, lazy, who would rather do anything but write. So it’s all the more galling when his reclusive, dorky roommate, Stewart, turns out to have written a brilliant novel. Then Stewart is suddenly killed, and Cal seizes the opportunity to become the novelist he always thought he should be.

He doesn’t just steal Stewart’s novel, but also his life, when he begins dating and eventually marries the love of Stewart’s life. Of course, there is always the danger that someone knows the truth, and when she comes forward, the story really gets going.

This is a fun book that possibly could have been a lot more. As we watch Cal’s lies unravel, as pathetic as he is, the reader still feels like calling out advice to him from the wings. The plot gets more and more tortured, though, and I had to wonder if the author had written himself into a situation he couldn’t gracefully get himself out of.