Loop group /

Few contemporary novelists can handle a road saga like McMurtry. His most memorable works of that genre, Lonesome Dove (1986) and the Berrybender Chronicles, are massive, sprawling epics set against an untamed frontier. His latest book is on a smaller scale, but it is a gem, with two memorable characters and delightful vignettes. Maggie and Connie are two 60-year-old women who eke out a marginal existence in contemporary Los Angeles as loopers--dubbing voices and sounds for B-movie tracks. Friends since grade school, they both fear life, especially their love life, has passed them by. Hoping to jump-start their lives with a bit of adventure, they decide to drive a van cross country to visit Maggie's aunt, who runs a Texas chicken farm. Their brief odyssey is filled with wondrous scenes of natural beaty, visits to amusingly odd museums and tourist traps, and encounters with a variety of eccentric and occasionally dangerous characters. What makes this work special is McMurtry's gift for creating a genuinely likable, believable pair of protagonists and weaving an often touching fabric around their intertwined relationship. Maggie and Connie can be frustratingly self-absorbed, even whiny, and they often irritate each other, but their shared experiences over decades help make this a quirky but enjoyable buddy story. --Jay Freeman Copyright 2004 Booklist

In this somewhat scattered narrative, 60-year-old Maggie Clary wonders if she will ever truly feel like herself again, now that she's had a hysterectomy. True, she still runs a successful company that dubs grunts and voices for low-budget Hollywood movies, and the operation certainly hasn't affected her sex life. She owns her own home in the heart of Hollywood, and knows how to have a good time smoking pot and cleaning her pool. Even the fact that she can count on the support of three relatively stable adult daughters and her best friend, Connie, doesn't stop Maggie from experiencing great doses of existential angst. Narrator Critt successfully captures this bunch of at-ends characters. Each of Maggie's daughters speaks with her own slightly different Valley Girl accent when agonizing with or about their mother. Connie sounds more like a petulant teenager than a mature woman, which, given her lifestyle and concerns over men and booze, accurately represents her character. But Critt's particular strength is her handling of Maggie's slightly fusty middle-aged inflections, endowed as they are with a sparkle that conveys the spirit of a woman who is at once depressed but still very much grappling with life, Hollywood-style. Simultaneous release with the S&S hardcover (Forecasts, Nov. 8, 2004). (Dec. 2004) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved All rights reserved.

Maggie is divorced, nearing 60, and still gainfully self-employed on the fringes of the Los Angeles movie industry. Following a hysterectomy, she finds herself feeling low and disengaged from her former self and others. This particularly infuriates her three married daughters, who have always been able to count on Maggie's connection to them and her generosity to their families. In short, it's midlife crisis time, and something must be done. Maggie teams up with her sexy but aging friend Connie, and they light out on a cross-country trip to Texas. They fling caution to the wind, rail against growing older, and decry the loss of their wild, gallivanting, man-cruising days. While the novel's story line conjures images of Thelma and Louise, it rides an easier road, substituting raunchiness for rich narrative and complex characterization. Fun and sex-obsessed, McMurtry's latest (after entries in the "Berrybender Narratives") will find an audience. Recommended for large fiction collections. [See Prepub Alert, LJ 8/04.]-Sheila Riley, Smithsonian Inst. Libs., Washington, DC (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Best friends since sixth grade and now they're hitting sixty, these two foxy Hollywood working girls. Their friendship is the heart of McMurtry's larky latest, fizzy enough to keep the fans happy. Sunday morning in Hollywood. Maggie Clary is alone in her bungalow, her lifelong home, when all three of her married daughters show up unannounced. They're on a mission to ease Maggie's "despair" following her hysterectomy. She still has her job as manager of a loop group, shepherding her volatile, druggy crew into the mix studios in the unglamorous world of post-production; and she still has a sex life, or did until she dumped the handsome young actor she caught going through her purse. Yet somehow the spark has gone. Might a trip with her old friend Connie revive it? This is an excellent setup, its tone raunchy in a cheerful, nonchalant way, as befits two sexual adventurers (not matrons, insists Connie) who've been "trolling for good-looking guys" since their early teens. And they don't have to be young studs (Maggie realizes she may be falling in love with her ancient Sicilian shrink, despite his S&M games). Once the ladies are on the road, driving to the Texas panhandle to visit Maggie's last living aunt, the writing goes thin. A white-bearded hitchhiker (a wrangler in Rita Hayworth's last movie) and a diminutive Indian who murdered his wife are colorful, but in an ersatz way. Aunt Cooney turns out to be a ruthless old crone overseeing her agribusiness (two million hens), and Maggie and Connie beat a hasty retreat back to LA. A short final section feels overly rushed, making Maggie's closing affirmation of her friendship with Connie less moving than it might have been. The proportions may be wrong, but there's something here for everyone: An affectionate peek at the workers clinging to Hollywood's lowest rung; campy sex; drama on the highway; and canny insights into the dynamics of family and friendship. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.