Imagine that your husband is a talented yet struggling musician. You hold down two jobs to support him and go to all of his gigs. Both of you hope, pray, and plan for the day when he finally makes it big. And then, after years of sweat and heartache, he does.
And all hell breaks loose.
That's the story of Brooke and Julian Alter in Lauren Weisberger's Last Night at Chateau Marmont. No sooner has Julian finished his showcase performance than he's whisked away to LA. There are interviews, parties, and photoshoots, and at first, Brooke wants to be part of them all. But as Julian's life begins to resemble Nickleback's "Rock Star," complete with regular appearances in the gossip rag Last Night at Chateau Marmont, Brooke remains rooted in NYC. Living on separate coasts is painful -- and seems to seal their fate as a couple.
Or does it? Because as bigheaded as Julian can sometimes be (there were times when I wanted to strangle him!), deep down he's still the sensitive songwriter that Brooke fell in love with. He still pukes before playing for a huge crowd and calls her by his pet nickname, Rook. This isn't just a story about marriage -- it's a story about marriage and skyrocketing into the celebrity stratosphere. After all, Weisberger wrote The Devil Wears Prada; her wheelhouse is exposing the ugly insides of glamorous industries. And why not? It's fascinating to witness what stardom can do -- and if it's possible to remain true to yourself while trending.
Rife with early aughts references, Last Night at Chateau Marmont (which was published in 2010) takes on the eponymous Hollywood hotel, along with its legendary notoriety, and turns it on its head. Because back in the day, rock stars' wives were seen and not heard, but modern love may be more balanced.
Sounds like a hit song to me.