Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One

Arnett (Mostly Dead Things) paints an irresistible portrait of the artist as a clown. In the five years since Cherry’s hilarious and financially successful older brother, Dwight (who was also their mother’s favorite), died, she has sought to always be the funniest person in the room. Now she spends her afternoons and weekends on the Orlando, Fla., birthday party circuit, alternately delighting and terrifying young children as Bunko, an aspiring rodeo clown who’s terrified of horses, and sneaking breaks to seduce the moms, more than a few of whom harbor a secret clown fetish. A stultifying job at a dysfunctional aquarium store pays the bills (sort of), but Cherry is serious about perfecting her art. To that end, she pursues a mentorship (with benefits) with beautiful older magician Margot the Magnificent. Throughout, Cherry’s wisecracking first-person narration masks the sorrow of her mother’s indifference, as well as her irritation with the challenges of being queer in central Florida: “Clowning requires a kind of steeliness that I associate with my coming-out process: the knowledge that there will always be people in life who will hate you for who and what you love.” Despite, or perhaps due to, its absurdity and bittersweet undertones, Cherry’s story makes a powerful case for pursuing one’s art authentically and fearlessly. It’s a riot. Agent: Serene Hakim, Ayesha Pande Literary. (Mar.)