01/01/2014 Magnuson's eighth novel begins like a humorous crime caper à la Elmore Leonard but quickly evolves into a sly satire of contemporary authorship and the academic writing workshop. A chain of unusual circumstances leads Frankie Abandonato, a small-time con man, into impersonating V.S. Mohle, a reclusive writer (clearly modeled on J.D. Salinger) with a cultlike following, who has been coaxed into leading a semester-long workshop in a renowned creative writing program in Texas. Mohle has a long-standing feud with the workshop's benefactor, Rex Schoeninger, a Micheneresque writer of historical epics. Initially intending to hide from the mob, collect Mohle's generous paycheck, and perhaps bilk Rex out of a portion of his considerable fortune, Frankie is increasingly drawn into the lives of his writing students and an uneasy father-son relationship with Rex. VERDICT Magnuson (The Hounds of Winter; dir., James A. Michener Ctr. for Writers, Univ. of Texas) knows well the territory and personalities of which he writes, and his joy at poking affectionate fun at them is infectious. An underlying theme regarding the tension between literature and popular fiction (and whether something can be both) doesn't detract from the entertainment.—Christine DeZelar-Tiedman, Univ. of Minnesota Libs., Minneapolis
10/14/2013 At the start of the latest from Magnuson (The Hounds of Winter), New York City hustler Frankie Abandonato finds himself on the lam, hiding from the mob after a con gone wrong leaves his partner dead. Hopping on the next plane out of New York’s La Guardia, Frankie is mistaken for a famous author, the reclusive, J.D. Salinger-like V.S. Mohle, who was supposed to be on the same flight, but was scared off by a celebrity hound just before boarding. After the plane touches down in Austin, Tex., a trio of Mohle’s young fans whisk Frankie away to an elite writing program where the great man is slated to teach. The latest from Magnuson (The Hounds of Winter) weaves and bobs between Frankie’s attempts to become Mohle—learning the lingo of writers, giving readings, heading workshops—and his dealings with novelist Rex Schoeninger, Mohle’s oldest rival and the writing program’s chief benefactor. Learning Rex has $20 million in the bank, Frankie concocts an elaborate scheme to steal the elderly man’s fortune. Part satire of the creative writing industry (MFAs, awards, egos), part snappy grifter tale, this novel is a fast, fun read. Magnuson’s writing is strong, though his characters’ relationships sometimes lack believability. Agent: Emily Forland, Brandt and Hochman. (Jan.)
"Ridiculously entertaining."
"Famous Writers I Have Known is the engaging story of an ingenious con-man who enters the world of Creative Writing with a mixture of innocence, nerve and talent. James Magnuson creates a character both cunning and warmhearted. He describes the Texan landscape with a loving and painterly eye, and he re-creates the world of writers and would-be writers with wit and knowledge and dark laughter."
"Tantalizing … Magnuson nimbly keeps the wheel spinning, neither condemning the whole enterprise of creative writing programs, literary awards and the ambition that drives them, nor fully embracing them. He seems content to simply observe, reflect and entertain."
Dallas Morning News - Edward Nawotka
"[A] plucky caper."
"A fun-filled literary romp."
"Addictive…. A delightful take on writing programs and American life."
"This is a droll, understated, ultimately sweet-tempered but also keenly savvy send-up of the much-lamented (and misunderstood) creative writing industry in America. A copy could usefully be included in the welcome kit for all new MFA candidates."
"A triumphantly preposterous fish-out-of-water campus caper."
The Washington Post - Elinor Lipman
"James Magnuson’s mischievous comedy of novelists and conmen—professional liars both—is as subtle as it is subversive, as clever as it is courageous, as witty as it is touching. Readers will love it—but writers beware!"
"Jim Magnuson has done something remarkable—written a page-turner about the life of a writer. In his insights into the particular Famous Writer considered here, Magnuson’s peerless eye has not missed a single telling detail. His comedy is huge but its also sly: just under the surface of this Portrait of the Almost-Artist as a Cranky Old Man lies a moving meditation on the quest for immortality that drives us all, the mad cry from Othello: "Reputation! Reputation! Reputation!"
"Mr. Magnuson spins his rambunctious tale with…evident glee."
New York Times - Christopher Kelly Christopher Kelly
"[A] gleeful look at literary affectations."
Seattle Times - Adam Woog
"Mr. Magnuson spins his rambunctious tale with…evident glee."
New York Times - Christopher Kelly
"[A] plucky caper."
2013-10-05 The literary racket proves fair game for a con man in Magnuson's eighth novel, a poorly designed caper. It's 1997. Frankie has spent most of the decade in the slammer. Now, the middle-aged grifter is back in his hometown, New York, reunited with Barry, his partner in crime. They have just scammed a guy, realizing too late he's the idiot son of a mob boss. Barry is killed by a goon; Frankie escapes, barely, taking the first flight out of town. He finds himself in Austin, Texas, being greeted by three adoring young women. Apparently, he's a dead ringer for V.S. Mohle, the Salinger-esque novelist the girls were expecting. They're students at the Fiction Institute, funded by Rex Schoeninger, the Michener-esque octogenarian known for his doorstop books and philanthropy. Years before, Rex beat out V.S. for a Pulitzer. Later, on The Dick Cavett Show , the two came to blows. (This is a cartoonish rehash of the celebrated 1970s faceoff between Gore Vidal and Norman Mailer.) Rex filed a lawsuit; V.S. moved to a Maine island and never wrote again. Now Rex, hoping to bury the hatchet, has invited V.S. to lead a writing workshop: easy work, big bucks, but V.S. got cold feet before his flight, which leaves Frankie in the spotlight. The con man decides to go for impersonation. The students are pussycats, and the program director is gullible. (There's some self-mockery here. Magnuson, who knew Michener, holds a similar position in Austin.) Despite some "oops!" moments, Frankie muddles through and wins over the curmudgeonly Rex by giving him a puppy. Frankie is a bit of a softie. This will disappoint readers looking for more hard-edged action, while those expecting literary scuttlebutt will find a campus scene that's altogether too mellow. Only toward the end does the action resume, with Frankie, self-described poor schlub that he is, making mistake after mistake. A novel that aims to appeal to two different readerships but is unlikely to satisfy either one.