
I picked it up in Los Angeles without knowing anything about it, and it sucked me in. …currently sits on my nightstand:Ī novel by Jade Sharma called Problems. I started reading one evening when I’d just put my daughter to bed, in one of those awkward “It’s too early for bed but I’m too tired to be awake” moments, and was still reading hours later. I read it twice.I read in one sitting, it was that good: I was convinced I had zero interest in horror until I read Dan Chaon’s novel Ill Will. There’s something kind of miraculous about that novel.made me rethink a long-held belief: The book that: …I recommend over and over again: The Vancouver Island-born, Brooklyn- and L.A.-based Mandel is a dual citizen (her father is from California) has written four other novels (TGH and SOT were favorites of President Obama) was homeschooled, left high school one credit short of a diploma, attended community college for a year, then attended the School of Toronto Dance Theatre is descended from William the Conqueror worked at a cancer lab at Rockefeller University spends lots of time on Reddit seeing how people interact would have been named Llewellyn if she’d been a boy likes Marianne McGinnis art and Anine Bing blazers was a Jeopardy! clue and has had short hair ever since she saw Girl, Interrupted. The NYT-bestselling author is currently at work on a new novel, which, as Mandel has done before, features characters from her previous books, as well as a screenplay of her first novel, Last Night in Montreal, which was rejected by more than 35 publishers. And this time, Mandel is working on them with Patrick Somerville, who brought the National Book Award finalist Station Eleven to Emmy-nominated life. John Mandel’s The Glass Hotel and Sea of Tranquility (coming out in Vintage paperback this month) can’t come soon enough. It is quite literally the workplace of the damned.For fans of Station Eleven (book, HBO series, both), the television adaptations of Emily St. And, because that man works in the Gradia Building, Station Eleven’s readers instinctively know that it isn’t just a business address named for a big airline. Their worlds are blown to pieces not by the Georgia flu, but by a man they believed to be a trusted counselor, even a dear friend. The people of The Glass Hotel, like their counterparts in Station Eleven, do not know what is about to hit them until it is too late. In fiction, worlds are created and collapsed, god-like, while characters remain blissfully ignorant until they no longer can be. Mandel is having a bit of fun there, creating a world where her Georgia flu pandemic never happened, where these two - along with billions of other fictional people - lived on, blithely unaware of the fates the author’s imagination had visited upon them. One of Station Eleven’s peripheral characters becomes part of The Glass Hotel’s plot, and a more central character in the earlier book appears here as a peripheral one.
