Landline

May 26, 2014
Rowell follows up children’s novels Fangirl and Eleanor and Park, both released in 2013, with an adult novel about the ups and downs of marriage. Georgie McCool (yes, that’s her real name) is a successful TV writer with a handsome writing partner and a chance to finally take her career to the next level; she’s just been offered her own pilot, which means no more writing jokes for characters she didn’t invent. The only problem? Her husband, Neal, is growing increasingly discontent with Georgie’s endless work and his status as stay-at-home dad to their daughters, Noomi and Alice. When Georgie cancels the family trip over Christmas, Neal takes the girls and leaves Georgie behind. This is where the story gets interesting. When Georgie calls Neal’s home, she doesn’t reach the husband who’s on the verge of leaving her—she reaches the moody cartoonist she fell in love with during college, a past version of the current Neal. This magical plot device allows Georgie to investigate what drove her and Neal apart in flashbacks, and consider whether they were ever truly happy. Rowell is, as always, a fluent and enjoyable writer—the pages whip by. Still, something about the relationship between Georgie and Neal feels hollow, like it’s missing the complexity of adult love, despite the plot’s special effects. First printing of 100,000.

July 28, 2014
Rowell’s touching romance has a supernatural twist, a telephonic portal that allows TV comedy writer Georgie to time travel back and forth from the present day to the period before she was married using a vintage rotary-dial telephone. Georgie and her husband, Neal, are struggling in their marriage at the beginning of the book. Georgie forgoes the family Christmas vacation to stay behind for work, while Neal, whose understated irritation is deftly implied by narrator Lowman, takes the planned trip with the kids. When Georgie can’t reach Neal, she discovers a magic landline that allows her present-day self to talk to a younger, bachelor version of Neal. Lowman captures the sweetness and vulnerability of their college courtship; there are intimate moments, spoken slowly and seductively, that are lovely and voyeuristic, including the couple’s first kiss. When Georgie coos Neal’s name, the heat is tangible. Lowman nimbly distinguishes between her women characters, capturing their confidence and quirkiness. Neal’s voice can be flat and is less appealing, but he isn’t supposed to be as charismatic as Georgie. Fans will enjoy this fresh take on the time warp. A St. Martin’s hardcover.