I talked to a widower, and I liked it

My current favorite contemporary novelist is Jonathan Tropper. He combines pathos and comedy in his stories effortlessly. After reading his latest novel This Is Where I Leave You, I've been on the hunt for all his previous works. So it was a joyful, joyful day when I saw How to Talk to a Widower in the shelves of a local bookstore this week. I had high hopes for this novel, and, sure enough, this novel didn't disappoint.

The widower in How to Talk to a Widower is Doug Parker, a 29-year-old who lost his 40-year-old wife Hailey in a plane accident. It is not just him that's dealing with this loss; Hailey's 16-year-old son, Russ, has been left under Doug's care. Russ is becoming extremely difficult to deal with lately, often finding himself involved in fights in school. Doug becomes prime dating real estate because of his status -- he's slim, sad, beautiful, and broken. When the upper class neighborhood gets wind that he's in the dating scene again, it's enough to create several comedic scenarios involving single and divorced ladies, whom his twin sister Claire sets him up with.

Tropper has created a very lovable character in his widower. Doug is a writer so obviously he's very introspective with his thoughts. His column, naturally titled "How to Talk to a Widower," is very insightful. I wouldn't be surprised if Tropper wrote some parts of his experiences in Tropper; his writing just feels so rich in context.

I can see that having dysfunctional families can be a pivotal theme in Tropper's novels. The Parkers are just as weird and funny as the Foxmans of This Is Where I Leave You. Doug's family provides several hysterical but heartwarming moments that play a role in Doug's ultimate redemption from his sad and lonely existence. Doug has always found himself to be an outsider among his high-profile sisters, but the loss of his wife provides a vehicle for his family to come together for him in all their idiosyncrasies and weirdness.

How to Talk to a Widower is so entertaining that you barely even know that you've reached the mid-point of the novel. It's been optioned for a movie, which is something I'm really not looking forward to seeing. The novel just has too many nuances, too many fine details, that won't translate well into the silver screen. I say, let's not mess with things that are already brilliant as they are.

Read this book if:

1. You love the novels of John Irving, Tom Perrotta, and Nick Hornby.
2. You've dated someone who's wallowing in self-pity.
3. You go for sad, slim, and beautiful people.