How Becoming a Barry Manilow Fan Helped Me Understand My Protagonist @zacbissonette

 LUCY BURDETTE: Today I'm delighted to welcome Zac Bissonette with his debut mystery, A KILLING IN COSTUMES. Zac and I "met" on Twitter after he made lovely comments about my DEADLY ADVICE. When I noticed he had a book coming out, I was sure you'd want to meet him too! Welcome Zac! (And do read all the way to the bottom to hear about his double giveaway...)

(September 2021: First live concert I’d been to since March 2020, to see my protagonist’s favorite singer, who I never would have dreamed of seeing before I realized he was my fictional character’s hero.)

ZAC BISSONETTE: In March 2020, I was living in New York City, and I received feedback from my first beta reader on my first novel, A Killing in Costumes. His comments were typical for a first draft. He identified major plot holes, horrible writing, undeveloped characters, and, I want to emphasize this again, a lot of horrible writing.

But this was March 2020 in New York City, and I wasn’t going to fix all that. So I focused on a more manageable criticism. My book has two protagonists and one of them, Jay, was a big Huey Lewis fan. My beta reader made a note, saying Huey Lewis didn’t seem right—“seems it should be something more retro Hollywood/no?”

Here was a manageable challenge: Who should Jay’s favorite singer be in this manuscript that was unlikely to ever be published? I don’t remember how, but Barry Manilow popped into my mind, even though I didn’t know much about him. My overall impression of him: kitschy Las Vegas, a massively devoted core of fans who called themselves Fanilows, an act as famous as a cultural punchline and a stand-in for middlebrow taste as for its actual music. Manilow was perfect for Jay, who is a former soap opera star turned Hollywood memorabilia dealer. Jay would be a Fanilow. 

So I dove into that time-honored time suck of writers terrified of the disappointment that would come from actually writing but too wary of feeling like a quitter to give up entirely: wildly superfluous research.

I listened to his greatest hits album, which I liked. Then, and there’s no way to say this other than to just say it, I bought a copy of his 1987 memoir, Sweet Life, and discovered something that shocked me: Barry Manilow is funny. And not just “humorous,” but genuinely hilarious. He’s also charming as hell, and, while the book was written more than twenty years before he came out of the closet, it manages to discuss his relationships and ambivalence in a way that feels thematically true to what he was actually feeling—revealing while still private.

From Left to Right: Perry Como, Barry Manilow

My boyfriend and I were living together in a one-bedroom apartment. Nothing was open, everyone was terrified, and I was calling him into the living room every few minutes to read him funny lines from Manilow’s memoir, shouting so he could hear me over the dulcet tones of ‘Trying to Get the Feeling Again.’ 

When my book begins, Jay is at a crossroads in his life, in his forties after a life of ups-and-downs and identity crises. Coming to terms with being gay had been hard, personally, because of his upbringing, and professionally, because of his public facing career. 

When I thought about Jay’s journey, and the obstacles he needed to overcome, it became clear why Manilow’s own rise from geek to superstar while staying true to his own unique, unhip style, would be so inspiring to him. As Barry himself puts it when introducing his song ‘All the Time’: “This song is about feeling like a misfit when you’re younger . . . I know it’s hard to believe, looking at the super megastar sex god I have turned into. But, really, I felt like a geek when I was a kid.” 

Understanding Jay’s Manilow fandom helped me understand Jay better—and hopefully make him richer for readers: Manilow is, on the page at least, a very minor part of the book—my boyfriend made sure of that. Which leads me to my one relationship tip: Find yourself a man who loves you enough to go see Barry Manilow twice in three months and to make sure Barry trivia doesn’t overwhelm your debut novel.

Readers and Writers: Do you have a favorite singer/actor/personality who’s influenced your life? Does your character? Leave a comment to be entered in the drawing for a copy of the new book and a script from an episode of Murder, She Wrote, signed by Tom Sawyer, a writer for the show and a longtime producer/show runner.

About Zac: New York Times bestselling author Zac Bissonnette‘s most recent book is 2015’s The Great Beanie Baby Bubble: Mass Delusion and the Dark Side of Cute. He is an equity analyst at a hedge fund, and lives in New York City with his partner and a tuxedo cat named Perry Como. A Killing in Costumes is his first novel.

About A Killing in Costumes

Stardom fades fast when you’re on the line for murder, in this debut cozy mystery perfect for fans of Richard Osman and Jenn McKinlay.

Jay Allan and Cindy Cooper were soap opera stars in the late ’90s, a wholesome young husband-and-wife duo who combined musical talent with humor and charisma. When the truth about their sexual orientations came to light, their marriage and TV careers ended, but decades later they have remained friends. Together, they open Palm Springs’ chicest movie memorabilia store, Hooray for Hollywood–but no customers and dwindling finances spell trouble.

A Hail Mary arrives in the form of Yana Tosh, a ninety-year-old diva of the silver screen who has amassed a valuable collection of costumes and props and is looking to sell. But first, Jay and Cindy have to beat their competition, a vice president from a mega-auction house with ten times their resources. And when he winds up dead, they become prime suspects in the murder.

With their freedom and livelihoods on the line, Jay and Cindy desperately need to clear their names. There are plenty of other potential suspects, but they’ll have to solve it soon before they’re forced to trade in their vintage costume collection for two orange jumpsuits.

“Zac Bissonnette’s contemporary twist on Agatha Christie’s Tommy and Tuppence is sure to enthrall traditional mystery fans. At the very core of this astonishing debut is love in various forms—and especially our eternal love of, and fascination for, Hollywood in all its glamor and glitz. The relationship of Cindy and Jay is the wonderful glue that pulls it all together. I hope they have a long and successful run in this new staging of “Murder, They Write.”

—Miranda James, NYT and USA Today Bestselling Author of The Cat in the Stacks and the Southern Ladies Mysteries

“Hooray for this smashing new cozy mystery by Zac Bissonnette! Chock full of old Hollywood references, eclectic collectible information, and delightfully set in sunny Palm Springs, there is so much to love in this perfectly executed, high stakes, puzzler of a mystery. I absolutely can’t wait to join these fun and fresh amateur sleuths, Cindy and Jay, on their next page turner of a mystery!” 

—Jenn McKinlay, New York Timesbestselling author of the Library Lovers Mystery series

“Mystery readers, especially those with a taste for vintage Tinseltown movies, stars, glamor, and the music of the era are going to love this beautifully, affectionately written novel.”

—Tom Sawyer, Emmy-Nominated Head Writer/Showrunner of Murder, She Wrote

Excuse a quick interruption, but Gillian B, you are the winner of the Leslie Karst book! Please contact her at ljkarst at gmail dot com

Our Debut Concerts

LUCY BURDETTE: Loni Emmert asked this question on Facebook last week (thank you Loni!) and I knew we would have fun discussing it here: What was the first concert you ever attended?

And I am chagrined to have to say: The Monkees! (Couldn't it have been something uber-cool like the Beatles or the Rolling Stones?) But I was a teenager, madly in love with Micky Dolenz. And tickets to the 1967 Monkees concert in Detroit were what I wanted for my birthday most of all.

Earlier that year, my best friend and I had slaved for hours to make Micky a "party kit" to celebrate his birthday. We'd made crepe paper party hats, and lord knows what other homemade gifts, and packed it off to his fan club address. I did get a signed photo back from the club. But I suspected he was waiting to give me a shout-out from the stage...

I don't remember much about the concert--except that we screamed and screamed. And even though it isn't listed on the set, I'm certain that Davy Jones dropped to one knee and crooned "The day we fall in love." The memory still sets my young-girl heart aquiver…

 HALLIE EPHRON: Mine was pretty amazing. It was at the Hollywood Bowl Sept. 3, 1965, Bob Dylan made his Bowl debut as the opening act for Joan Baez. I was singing folk songs and learning guitar, and I am chagrined to admit that I did not get Dylan, not one bit. (A few years later I saw Big Brother and the Holding Company with Janis Joplin at the Filmore in SF and was similarly baffled.) 


JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Lucy, I have to admit, my first concert was similarly dorky: at the age of fifteen, my best friend and I went to see Barry Manilow when he came to Syracuse. The tickets must have been a present from my parents, as I had spent all my allowance money on Barry Manilow records. Oh, my, how we screamed and sighed. He was so slim and cute and he had the fluffiest, most perfectly-blown-out seventies hair ever.

Most memorable concert? Going to see the Grateful Dead in college and discovering AFTER I had gotten through security that one of my friends had hidden his stash in my purse.  

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: My very first? Well, my father was the music critic for the Chicago Daily news, and when I was pretty young, like, five, he would take me to the symphony. Was I well behaved? I guess so...since he kept taking me. But apparently there was one memorable (for Dad) occasion where I must have been fidgeting  and the man in front of us turned around and said: "Please keep that child quiet."   And it was Yul Brynner!

And I would have loved to see the Monkees! 

But my first real concert as a separate person was the Beatles at the Indianapolis Coliseum, a huge arena usually used for cows. I cried for DAYS. Before, during, and after.

One of the most memorable: some college pals and I sneaked off campus (in Ohio) and drove to Chicago to see Crosby, Still and Nash. They sang for a while, and it was great..and then they said: we'd like to introduce you to another guy who sings with us sometimes. And out came Neil Young!
And then they sang Suite Judy Blue Eyes...and out came Judy Collins!

And all the while, my parents thought I was in class.

RHYS BOWEN: My first concert on my own was when my friend and I went to see the Rolling Stones. It was in a not too impressive hall, so they can't have been that well established, and the group that opened for them--well, they were terrible. It was Tom Jones and I believe they were called The Squires. I was amazed when he became a star later, but I have to admit he did improve with time.

But other types of concerts--my aunt was a huge theater buff and took me to opera, musicals etc when I was quite young. I saw Rigoletto at twelve and cried my eyes out because it was so sad.

DEBORAH CROMBIE: My first concert WAS the Beatles--on their first US tour in 1963, at the Dallas Convention Center, with my best friend, Franny, and a bunch of other girls from our 6th grade class. I have no idea now how we got tickets, or whose parents took us (certainly not mine...) We were on the 12th row, center. Could we see anything? NO. Everyone stood on their chairs, and I was short. Hear anything? NO. Non-stop screaming from the minute they took the stage until the end of the concert. Still, it was something never to be forgotten. Now I think, poor guys, having to play city after city to a bunch of hysterical screaming girls... No wonder they got tired of it.

Most memorable concerts from the last few years? The Police reunion tour. And Paul McCartney, a couple of years ago. Dallas was the last stop on his tour, and you could tell when he walked out on the stage that he was exhausted. But then the audience started cheering and clapping, and you could just see him taking in all that love and energy, absorbing it. He played his heart out for three hours--three hours!!-- and every second was fabulous. Still gives me chills just thinking about it.

SUSAN ELIA MACNEAL: OMG, Debs, the Beatles? Wow. <fans self> OK, I think my first concert was Sonny and Cher. (No, I'm not joking. I was fairly young.) The most memorable is a toss-up between two. First is opera singer Leontyne Price at Artpark (outside on a perfect summer night under the stars — she finished with Gershwin's "Summertime"). And also Madonna's Blond Ambition Tour. (Anyone remember that? It was the one made infamous by the Gaultier cone bra.) It was amazing and life-changing. (Seriously. I'm being serious here, folks. I think Madonna is a fabulous performance artist. Seriously.)

Reds, do you remember your first concert? Are you willing to tell us about it?? 

And just for fun, here's Kaye Barley's Memory Quilt, made from the concert t-shirts she scored over the years!