On Publishing, Cancel Culture, and Selling Your Book at Any Cost
Book Review of "A Complete Fiction" by R.L. Maizes
I recently had the pleasure of receiving a copy of A Complete Fiction by R.L. Maizes in exchange for an honest review.
This book in three words: self-aware, witty, propulsive
Description: With little evidence, would-be author P.J. Larkin serves a “nibble” on the trendy new social-media app Crave, accusing editor George Dunn of stealing the novel she submitted to him for publication. The nibble shoots to the top of the site’s Popular Menu Items, and soon George is embroiled in a scandal, his job and book deal in jeopardy. When it comes down to both authors to justify the facts behind their fictions, P.J. and George find themselves choosing between telling secrets they never wanted to reveal or facing the public’s scorn.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
There is something so wonderfully meta about a book written about publishing. Beach Read, Yellowface, The Plot, The Other Black Girl—I ate all of them up. A Complete Fiction is the newest (and rightfully deserved) addition to this microgenre.
R. L. Maizes sets the scene of two warring authors amidst an industry that pits writers against one another, as if there’s a finite audience of readers to compete over. That scarcity mindset (amplified by social media mob mentality and public callouts) becomes a pressure cooker for George and P.J., and proves how little it takes for resentment to tip into accusation.
Maizes doesn’t stop there. She skewers publishing, feminism, ego, and cancel culture without fear and with a heavy dose of humor.
Reading this as a publicist, I couldn’t help but delight in how accurately the book captures how public image and timing shape a book launch, sometimes (regrettably) more than the book’s content itself. No matter how much an artist wants to separate from their art, they never truly can.
And, boy, do P.J. and George try.
One of the book’s smartest moves is how it plays with reader expectations. P.J. is initially positioned as the victim: a wronged, overlooked writer finally getting her due. But as the story unfolds, that framing becomes increasingly unstable. P.J. emerges as the more unlikeable (and, ultimately, less redeemable) character, while George only grows more human. You’re constantly pulled between disgust and empathy, driving the point home that you never really can judge a book by its cover.
Yet, even as P.J. digs her heels in and digs her hole deeper, you can’t help but understand her plight. So often the world uses the notion “art for art’s sake” to justify a lack of recognition, compensation, and validation for artists’ work, skill, and time. Is it so wrong to want to sell the work you’ve spent years writing?
But what I admired the most was the book’s balance of serious subject matter—violence, public shaming, the ethics of a story that isn’t your own—without becoming heavy-handed. You find yourself pausing to think, only to be pulled back in by the next dry witticism from P.J. As morally grey as she is, she really is hilarious.
A Complete Fiction is the kind of book that makes you laugh first, then think later. Go pick it up. It’s a book any writer will relate to and undoubtedly enjoy.