by Thelma Adams
Thomas Dunne Books, $23.99, 292 pages
In Playdate, the debut novel of Us Weekly’s film critic, Thelma Adams, the ominous Santa Ana winds provide a (quite literally) hot backdrop against the complexities and challenges of suburban family life in southern California. Questions around gender roles reign supreme. One couple struggles to find normalcy as Darlene’s restaurateur ambitions relegate her husband, Lance, a former Barstow weatherman, to the role of primary caregiver to their tween daughter. And Darlene’s smooth-talking business partner, Alec, is completely unaware of the extent of the damage already done in his own crumbling marriage to Wren, a tantric sex enthusiast, who has found a willing student in Lance. As the fires rage on, the truth unravels, and both couples are left to face the consequences of their decisions. Yet Playdate, while both scandalous and brutally honest, leaves the reader wanting for real resolution. The protagonists are all in the throes of their own versions of infidelity, yet seem to find peace in placing blame for their actions on their spouses. Playdate is a fun read, but disappointing in that its protagonists are in as tenuous positions at the novel’s close as they were at its outset. But perhaps, that’s just what Adams intended.
Alexandra Walford
Thanks, Alexandra, for taking the time to read PLAYDATE and get under its skin. You did a terrific job. “Brutally honest” is quite a compliment for a book that is comic, but only partially comic. I originally had an even more ambiguous ending, with an epilog, but then knitted it up the way I did. Some have criticized the book as too neatly wrapped up. If I wrote it again (an impossibility) I’m not sure where I would take these characters. Infidelity is one of the themes of my fiction: rage at it, living with it, avoiding it, denying it, the way it transforms the relationships of parents and children. I suppose, in PLAYDATE, I took it as far as I could with these characters. And, while infidelity will remain a theme in my fiction, as it has in my life, I think I may be able to reduce it to a minor theme in my next novel.