100 Books Like All the Stars in the Heavens

A novel about Marlene Dietrich held a natural attraction for me, as Dietrich was one of Dolores del Río’s close friends in Hollywood. Gortner paints a vivid picture of decadence in pre-War Berlin, where Dietrich finds work in music halls. There, she meets Joseph von Sternberg, who casts her as the lead of The Blue Angel, the film that launches her career. As antisemitism grows in Germany, von Sternberg, who is Jewish, leaves for Hollywood, and Dietrich follows him. Paramount Pictures finds in her the answer to MGM’s sexy Swedish star, Greta Garbo, and casts her in one hit after the other. When Hitler approaches her to make propaganda films for the Nazis, Dietrich courageously rebuffs him, opting instead to become an American citizen and entertain Allied troops. 

This murder mystery novel is one that really stayed with me. It has a noir quality that fits the 1940s era, and a realistic depiction of the difficulties of employment at various levels in Hollywood. Suspicion falls on the protagonist when her roommate turns up dead on the set of a Barbara Stanwyck film, and through the course of the novel various scandals, mysteries, and cover-ups collide. Though the main character isn’t herself a star, far from it, she offers a particular perspective on the stars she knows and the industry as a whole. Stanwyck is one of Hollywood’s great talents and true survivors, as forceful on the page and as desperate to salvage her personal life as any of her movie characters.

I love Martin Turnbull’s writing. He truly knows how to conjure up Hollywood’s Golden Period. He’s gained popularity for his Garden on Sunset series, about the Garden of Allah apartment complex on Sunset Boulevard. However, he has begun to branch out with other series and also with standalone books. 

This book was his second standalone, about producer/boy wonder Irving Thalberg, and it is a remarkable achievement. The characters really hop off the page, including Thalberg, Marion Davies, Norma Shearer, and others. 

The best part for me was how Turnbull really brought Charles Laughton to life, making him incredibly human and letting us glimpse the tortured homosexual behind the portly actor. 

So many Hollywood novels focus primarily on the marquee names—the movie stars. This one explores the tortured romantic relationship between gossip columnist Sheilah Graham and author F. Scott Fitzgerald, whose stint as a scriptwriter was financially sustaining and artistically demoralizing, deepening his descent into alcoholism and despair over his failing marriage to Zelda. Sheilah could have been his creation, with her Gatsby-esque concealment of her background and reinvention of herself. Though this is a work of fiction, it results from meticulous research into the lives and careers of its fascinating and legendary main characters. As a writer myself, who has produced newspaper columns as well as more than a dozen novels, I fully appreciate the literary aspects of this story.

Nothing is accidental. Every word that you think is throwaway is part of the character build. Nothing is told. You have to link it. You have diverse characters without commentary. You have an understanding of motivation. You have illicit love. You have a challenging protagonist. What you think is true may not be true. You may glimpse real people, but you cannot say for sure. Unspoken truths. Secrets. Sex. Glamor.

Written from alternative viewpoints, it rounds out the real-life aspect that there is no truth because everyone’s truth is colored by their own bias. Again, it's unexpected and a fast read–and just like with my last recommendation–you don’t like her, then you do.

Katherine Center has been a favourite of mine since I read What You Wish For. Her writing is gorgeous, with a great rhythm and use of language. It’s also emotionally intelligent and infuses what can be the harsh realities of life with deep hope.

So, I was delighted to see she’d written about a theme I love so much, and I wasn’t disappointed! 

To me, the star of this novel is the witty banter between the characters and the super sexy will-they-or-won’t-they tension.

The main character is a divorced journalist who writes an in-depth profile about a very well-known actor. I particularly enjoyed how normal seeming the female main character was, and yet it was highly believable that the male actor would find her deeply attractive and interesting.

Just the way a true romance should be!

Stinger is one of the most original love stories I've ever read, and it's written in Mia's characteristic, heartfelt way.

Carson and Grace were both so easy to like, and they felt real. I'll never forget the scene where they're trapped in the elevator because I felt like an interloper trapped with them. Carson called Grace “Buttercup,” which is, of course, one of the romantic names out there, thanks to The Princess Bride.

When you read Mia Sheridan’s books, it feels like a possible wish–she doesn't write just happy ever afters; she writes dreams come true. 

If this beautifully illustrated collection of Hollywood tragedies were only kink, only lurid scandal like so many cheap TV potshots, it wouldn’t be the iconic masterpiece it has become. Kenneth Anger’s take on the faded and fallen Hollywood differs because he loves the place and its people with all his heart.

A child starling and renegade director in his own right (Scorpio Rising, Kustom Kar Kommandoes), he oozes child-like wonder and horror on every page. As he puts it in the book’s equally stark sequel, Hollywood Babylon II, the movies “promise immortality, but don’t really deliver.”   

Rebecca Prime is one of the contributors to my book and her book is a fascinating sequel to that volume. It covers the careers of several blacklisted filmmakers who fled Hollywood and America, seeking to find new work and life opportunities in Europe. Impeccably researched and elegantly written, Prime’s study tells the story of a generation of creative workers that was lost to the USA but which made a vital contribution to European and British cinemas. As she details, many of the exiled filmmakers faced almighty personal and professional struggles to adjust to their new circumstances, and while a few (e.g. Joseph Losey and Jules Dassin) would eventually achieve fabulous success, many other exiles found it difficult to secure regular and fulfilling work opportunities or personal happiness.