Praise for the novels of Laura Caldwell
The Year of Living Famously
“Sharply observed, fresh and compelling, The Year of Living Famously is a captivating look into the cult of celebrity.”
—Leslie Stella, author of The Easy Hour and Fat Bald Jeff
“A stylish, sassy novel that shows the dark side that haunts the world of glamour and glitz. Laura Caldwell paints a sensitive picture of two ordinary lives thrown into turmoil by the pressures of fame.”
—USA TODAY bestselling author Carole Matthews
“Hollywood power players, paparazzi and overzealous fans—Laura Caldwell takes readers inside the precarious world of celebrity with a captivating story about the cost of following your dreams and the high price of fame.”
—Jennifer O’Connell, author of Bachelorette #1
A Clean Slate
“Told with great energy and charm, A Clean Slate is for anyone who has ever fantasized about starting over—in other words, this book is for everyone!”
—Jill A. Davis, author of Girls’ Poker Night
“Weightier than the usual fare, Caldwell’s winning second novel puts an appealing heroine in a tough situation and relays her struggles with empathy.”
—Booklist (starred review)
“A Clean Slate is Laura Caldwell’s page-turner about a woman with a chance to reinvent herself, something most of us have imagined from time to time….”
—Chicago Tribune
“A Clean Slate…told with a little mystery, a little humor, and more than a few twists and surprises.”
—News-Dispatch
Burning the Map
“This debut novel won us over with its exotic locales (Rome and Greece); strong portrayal of the bonds between girlfriends; cast of sexy foreign guys; and, most of all, its touching story of a young woman at a crossroads in her life.”
—Barnes & Noble.com
(Selected as one of “The Best of 2002”)
“Caldwell’s debut is a fun, snappy read.”
—Booklist
“The author produces excellent settings and characters. It is easy to identify with her protagonist, Casey. We learn that maybe the rat race isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. This is a very thought provoking book.”
—Heartland Reviews
The Year of Living Famously
Laura Caldwell
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you, thank you, thank you to my wonderful editor, Margaret O’Neill Marbury, my fantastic agent, Maureen Walters, and everyone at Red Dress Ink (especially Tania Charzewski, Laura Morris, Craig Swinwood, Donna Hayes, Isabel Swift, Margie Miller, Tara Kelly, Sarah Rundle, Don Lucey, Belinda Hobbs, Jessica Regante, Liba Berry and Carolyn Flear).
Thanks also to Kelly Harden, Ginger Heyman, Trisha Woodson, Beth Kaveny, Suzanne Burchill, Pam Carroll, Jim Lupo, Hilarie Pozesky, Clare Toohey, Mary Jennings Dean, Jane Hamill, Kris Verdeck, Ted MacNabola, Joan Posch, J. Erik Seastrand, Patrick Meade and Alisa Spiegel.
Once again, most importantly, thanks and my heart to Jason Billups.
LAURA CALDWELL
graduated from University of Iowa, before getting her law degree from Loyola University Chicago School of Law. Laura was a trial lawyer for many years, specializing in medical negligence defense and entertainment law. She is widely published in the legal field, as well as in numerous mainstream publications.
Laura is a writer and contributing editor at Lake Magazine, and an adjunct professor of legal writing at Loyola University Chicago School of Law. Please visit her online at www.lauracaldwell.com.
I awoke one morning and found myself famous.
—Lord Byron
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Part Two
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Part Three
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Part Four
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Part Five
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Book Club Questions
chapter 1
Until that night in Vegas, I was the girl in back of the nightclub line, the girl who always had to wait for a cab. I was ordinary. I was just like anyone else.
I was with my friend Bobby that night, and we were staying at Mandalay Bay, where Bobby’s talent agency had unknowingly sprung for a two-bedroom suite. Bobby’s a film agent, and he was there to watch one of his clients in some high-end cabaret show. Bobby and I met when we were in grad school in Manhattan (me at FIT for fashion design, he at NYU for creative writing). Although he lived in L.A. now, and we hadn’t seen each other in a year, we were fabulous purveyors of the witty voice mail and the novel-length e-mail, so we still knew all about each other; we felt as connected as we had back then.
We hit the Strip with a vengeance that Friday night, throwing ourselves headlong into the glitter and the lights, pretending we weren’t in our early thirties, that the vodka martinis wouldn’t make our heads scream the next morning. We roared with laughter at the stories we knew by heart and updated each other with new ones, our exaggerations and outlandish details showing how much we’d learned about creativity in grad school.
At midnight, we were fairly stumbling through the lobby of the Bellagio, past the jangling slot machines and the occasional shouts of triumph from the craps tables, when Bobby stopped and peered through the crowd, his dark eyes narrowing.
“Is it Trent?” I said, referring to Bobby’s friend we were