In propulsive, shattering prose, Frey moves primarily between 2017 Los Angeles and 1992 Paris as a successful but emotionally end-of-his-rope author is thrown back to his raucous, raunchy, revelatory young days in the City of Light and his affair with the heart-stopping Katerina.

The controversy surrounding Frey's A Million Little Pieces obscured the striking work he does, as evidenced by his new novel, not a memoir but driven by Frey's experience as a writer. In propulsive, shattering prose, the narrative moves primarily between 2017 Los Angeles and 1992 Paris as a successful but emotionally end-of-his-rope author is thrown back to his raucous, raunchy, revelatory, hopeful young days in the City of Light and his affair with the heart-stopping Katerina. Carousing as much as he's writing, brazenly determined to produce something that "burn[s] the fucking world down," Jay is sitting in front of Auguste Rodin's The Gates of Hell when he's accosted by a tart, imperturbable woman in a skull-covered dress, and despite his initial rude resistance he falls passionately in love. Their affair and its lasting consequences are told mostly in a cascade of fractured, one-liners—whether exchange, interior monolog, or, later, email—resulting in an immediacy of content without the weight of backstory. The ending could have been maudlin, but it's not. VERDICT Structurally distinctive, this sensual eye-opener is about the act of creation, and it will prove fascinating reading even for those still mad at Frey. [See Prepub Alert, 4/8/18.]—Barbara Hoffert, Library Journal

Frey (A Million Little Pieces) crafts an underwhelming fictionalized memoir that follows Jay, a young American writer living in Paris and Los Angeles who is determined to write books that will "burn the world down." The narrative jumps between 1992 Paris and 2017 Los Angeles—the 15 years in between, in which Jay achieves his dream of becoming a famous writer, pass unexamined. Looking back on his time in Paris, Jay considers his early ambitions and the love affair that informed his best work. After receiving a Facebook message from his former lover, Jay begins to recollect his debaucherous years in Paris in a series of vignettes that read like poor imitations of Henry Miller, rendered in choppy, disjointed prose that readers of Frey's earlier works will recognize. They may also recognize versions of high-profile incidents from Frey's life when they occur in the novel, such as Jay appearing on a talk show to defend himself after the host accuses him of lying about his first book. While the narrative hinges on Jay's thoughts about writing a great book, it does little to convince the reader that Jay is actually a talented writer. This quixotic novel might make some readers reconsider Frey's legacy, but the story itself will leave most wanting. (Sept.)