In the tradition of "Bright Lights, Big City" and "Less Than Zero, " Tom Dolby has written a searing debut novel about going after what you really want without losing yourself in the process. Powerfully written, keenly felt, "The Trouble Boy" heralds an exciting new voice in fiction. "This is about fame and celebrity and the lengths to which people will go to have a taste of it. . ."
At twenty-two, Toby Griffin wants it all--fame, fortune, an Oscar-winning screenplay and a good-looking boyfriend by his side. For now, what he's got is a freelance writing job at a tanking online magazine, a walk-up sublet in the East Village and "the boys," a young posse of preppy Upper East Siders with a taste for high fashion, top-shelf liquor and other men.
But for Toby, downing vodka cranberries and falling in and out of lust with a series of guys he knows as Subway Boy, Loft Boy and Goth Boy is getting old. That all changes when Toby gets the chance of a lifetime--working as a personal assistant to hip, ruthless film mogul, Cameron Cole. In this decadent, drug-fueled world of VIP lounges, endless networking and relentless hype, Toby discovers that nothing is what is seems and that anything and anyone can be spun into PR gold. Though he's making friends with all the right people. Toby realizes that succeeding in Manhattan isn't as easy as he thought--until the one tragic night that changes his future forever and puts him in a position of power he never could have imagined.
But with Toby's name suddenly becoming Page Six material, his life is coming unglued. And as his professional contacts betray him and his friends reveal troubling secrets, his choices become that much harder--and that much more important. Now, in his first year on his own, Toby Griffin is about to learn the price of getting everything he ever wanted.
"What really makes Toby's world so familiar--along with the author's lively, often-hilarious eye for even the most mundane social details--is the crisp prose and the snappy story." -- "The San Francisco Chronicle"
Tom Dolby's new series from HarperCollins, Secret Society, debuted in October 2009, and includes the novels Secret Society and The Trust. Tom is the author of the bestselling novel The Trouble Boy and the boarding school novel The Sixth Form. His writing has appeared in The New York Times, The Village Voice, and the San Francisco Chronicle. Tom was born in London and raised in San Francisco, and is a graduate of The Hotchkiss School and Yale University. He currently lives in Manhattan’s West Village, where he is working on a new novel.
Oh, the mixed feelings I have about The Trouble Boy. This is one of those books where I found the story interesting, and it moved along at a pretty fast clip. However, no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't connect with Toby, the main character of the novel. Though he somewhat redeemed himself toward the end, overall, I found him too self-absorbed and shallow to be relatable.
And therein lies the other significant flaw with this book: most of the characters are shallow, self-centered, and in most cases, barely developed. Yes, Toby was the main character and narrator, so we see the story and the characters' lives through his eyes, but Dolby could have spent more time on character development instead of hopping from scene to scene. Perhaps that would have helped give readers a sense that the characters were more than what they appeared to be.
If you want to give this a read, I don't think you'll hate it, but if you have other LGBT fiction in your to-read pile, you're probably better off starting there first.
Probably the closest to my own writing style I've ever encountered in the wild, but Tom Dolby and I could not be writing about more different subject matter! He paints an absolutely lurid portrait of the gay scene in NYC back at the end of the dotcom boom, and watching his protagonist Toby grow and transcend his struggles in a realistic way was very rewarding. Not for everyone, but I really enjoyed it.
This book is deceptive. Early on there's a bit of name dropping. Designer names (Jimmy Choo?). Celebrity names (Rupert Everett? Rufus Wainwright?) - making it pretty easy to imagine that this is going to be just another "fabulous, frothy romp through the glittering world of gay New York." The queer version of chick-lit, if you will. "(Homo)Sex in the City." But not so. This tale of a recent Yale grad and aspiring writer trying to make his mark in the big city is actually a quite thoughtful and charming coming of age story. Sort of a gay bildungsroman for the new Millennium.
Toby Griffin, the protagonist, is a complex and fully realized character, a classic unreliable narrator who still manages to win the reader's sympathies despite his frequent misinterpretations, self-delusions and occasional blunders. Dolby has created a young man who we root for and, ultimately, one that we admire.
The book is told in first person narrative, with Toby relating his own story, except for Chapter Three, which, in a rather odd literary device, is told in third person. The reason given is that this Toby, the one who endures this particular, rather unsettling, experience, seemed like "...another person, another Toby Griffin." Although not problematic as such, this departure would have been even more effective if Dolby had chosen to use it again during (or immediately after) the book's decisive episode, a car accident that marks the turning point in Toby's fortunes and, more importantly, the point at which he must choose between right and wrong. It would have been the ideal way to illustrate how people can divorce themselves from poor or harmful choices in order to feel free of guilt. But this is a quibble on my part.
I enjoyed The Trouble Boy quite a bit. I think it has something for almost everyone. A bit of glamour. A few thinly disguised New York celebrity types that you'll almost, but not quite, recognize. A little sex. A little romance. A fair amount of wit and a whole lot of heart.
I came across this entertaining blast from the past rearranging my bookshelves to make space for Bret Easton EllisThe Shardsand noticed this book’s cover quote comparing it to BEE—likely the same thing that originally caught my attention. I didn’t necessarily remember it and it certainly felt cosmic so I decided to reread it. Turns out, its marketing works. I feel like one of The Trouble Boy’s tricks.
I think that there is a reason that a lot of gay fiction exists in a ghetto: it's because authors who write books like The Trouble Boy are filled with absolute contempt for their audience.
(I may expand this later, or I may leave it. At any rate, this book is a vacuous waste of time)
i picked up this book because it was one of the few gay books at the store that didn't have an almost pornographic cover. i like nyc and im gay so i thought i might identify with the book. in no way possible.
This author writes about the gay life scene in a big city and tries to make his little fantasy world seem as realistic as he could. I doubt that anyone like Toby would have friends at all let alone getting it in almost every night with his negative and smug outlook on life.
I really don't know why the author even added the chapter about Toby having the flash back on going to the psych ward over having sex with someone. why is this even in here, to make us feel bad for him or something? Its was a total waste of the plot's time.
And then the whole 429 bs. The characters used that as a more subtle way to say gay around people and to each other even like its a big secret or something. really? Look author, its new york, its ok for someone to say the words I'm gay.
The transphobia doesn't translate well in 2020, even though I know those attitudes exist in the gay community, and particularly existed in 2004. Still, the times when the characters would start to say "woman" and instead say "person" made modern-day me cringe.
When I envisioned Cameron Cole, I kept thinking about Xavier Dolan, which then just made me want to read a whole book about Cameron Cole.
I've thought a lot about the significance of including the third chapter, which is the one written in third person about Toby's mental breakdown. For me, as a reader, it gave him some weakness and made him a little more sympathetic, and showed some baseline of humanity in him, since he spends the rest of the novel treating people as badly as they treat him and reinforcing the pecking order. I realize this pecking order exists, and it isn't pretty. Neither is the protagonist or the book in general. It asks questions that need to be asked though, I guess, so I'd recommend it. I think.
Like a lot of people I see existing in the overpriced metropolis of New York City, his spending seems to far exceed his income. Every time he ate a meal, I wondered how he paid for it. At some point, I thought, this guy is going to have to stay home and eat some ramen. It never really got to that point with him and I sort of wish it did.
I picked up The Trouble Boy purposefully as light fare. The story follows the life and antics of 20-something Toby Griffin, a club reviewer for a struggling NYC dot-com. Set in the golden days before society let social media ruin everything, Toby and his post-college pals represent a cross-section of the NYC gay scene circa 2000. Readers get treated to cycles of gossip, drinking, romps, and recreational drug use -- and that is about it.
Between jobs and drinks, Toby and his unlikable friends carve out a somewhat vapid, celebrity conscious existence seeking out their forever love. But trouble seems to follow Toby whether it be through hookups, jobs, and vehicle accidents. The book gets compared to Easton's Less Than Zero, but I don't think that comparison does either book justice as they are totally different. The Trouble Boy is an earthy, gay twist on Sex in the City, while Less Than Zero is a clarion of emptiness, a rejection of a search for meaning.
When I read the book, I thought it was fun, interesting and great summer reading.
It's a page turner, I cared (for the most part) about most of the characters and the story line. It was written well, I wanted to continue reading and to find out how things turned out.
I'm torn between a three or four star rating. I would tend to give it a three because it's light reading. I'm going to give it a four because while reading, it demanded my attention and engagement.
I gave up on this book soon after starting. I've had it on my bookshelf for many years. I just couldn't get into the mindset of a young guy starting out in his career trying to make it. Nobody seemed likeable, especially the main character. And the name-dropping and brand-name references made my stomach churn. I wasn't sure where the story was going, and after a few chapters, I decided not to find out.
I'm surprised this book has scored as low as it has definitely be in the genre beware of getting everything you think you want and how to pull knives out from your back. Sharply satirical but with underlining menace.
Better than many, a scathing look at a certain segment of the NY gay culture of the 80's. Not a very appealing group of people really, empty, shallow lives. They make a mockery of the opportunity for life. If this is an example of liberation it's not worth having. It seems to me that lives lived like this are just another straight jacket that confines people to a very narrow stereotype that is just as powerful and just as damaging as the homophobic oppression that preceded it.
Another book in which I found myself unable to connect with the main character. At the end of the book, I feel like he does the right things for questionable reasons, and I put the book down still hoping he would grow up, but knowing he probably wouldn't. I don't feel like the protagonist really grew over the course of the novel.
The book was not bad, but it was not great either. I enjoyed the story, but I felt a disconnect with all the characters. And the ending was just awful, like, it could have ended in a much better manner.
ehh, it was okay. A story about the post-college early adulthood crisis/duldrums. Think Reality Bites where the gay one is the main character, but is still only as likable as lalana.