Author seeks long-lost authors
by Brian Abrams, Reporter

    The New York Times Book Review in 1972 praised Dow Mossman's first novel as the "definitive book of our generation."
     Critic John Seelye's write up was printed on page 4, and the publishing house, Bobbs-Merrill, was considered small-time.
     Hence, few have heard of The Stones of Summer, let alone author Mossman.
     In college, Mark Moskowitz read Seelye's critique.
     The review hooked him, so he picked up a copy at the local bookstore. The Stones of Summer became an all-time favorite, and, believe me, this guy's opinion is bonafide.
     His home library fills over 20 shelves (Russians taking the top shelf, then European authors, then next comes British, et cetera).
     In one scene, Moskowitz rests on his backyard cot, one book in his left hand and another lying on his stomach.
     Moskowitz eagerly anticipated another work from Mossman, but nothing turned up. In fact, no articles or hearsay of any kind ever came to light on the author.
     Thirty years pass, and Moskowitz shoots television commercials for local Pennsylvania politicians.
     He employs his production skills into Stone Reader, a documentary about his passion for books and the search for the non-existent Mossman.
     Moskowitz begins by exploring the 20th century fiction authors who wrote masterpieces on their first attempt but afterward are mysteriously withdrawn from the publishing world (JD Salinger, Harper Lee, etc).
     He makes discoveries early on, validating many writers' disappearing acts: Lee (To Kill a Mockingbird) wrote a few articles for a magazine and shortly thereafter retired.
     The Catcher in the Rye was the last work from Salinger, who has remained in solitude since its 1951 publication, and critics speculate that he thrives off his reclusive appeal.
     Henry Roth resurfaced in the book world in 1994 after a 60-year hiatus following his classic, Call It Sleep.
     Mossman's vanishing, however, is a mystery. He left no tracks behind. His book remains out-of-print, and Moskowitz's search for the lost author transforms into an astounding adventure and a fun-loving trip down memory lane.
     Throughout the bookworm's journey, we encounter critic Seelye, old-school publishers and mothball book agents.
     Moskowitz googles and yahoos online for nearly two years, combing for phone numbers and addresses of the writer's former colleagues.
     When his search fails in one facet, he doggedly continues with the next.
     Our nerdherd hero's mother garnishes the film with her one-liners. In one scene, Moskowitz has Mother dig up pictures of him from 1972. She reminisces sarcastically with comments like, "Wherever you went, you were very sociable. People started talking, and you'd pull out a book."
     When Moskowitz ponders on what to say, when and if he finds Mossman, Mother's advises: "Well don't be a brat."
     The subject of Stone Reader, though mistakenly geared toward ascot-wearing snoots with English doctorates, invites a much larger crowd to bear its value.
     For fanatic baseball card collectors who are still searching for that 1989 Fleer Billy Ripken with the F-word marked on his bat, this film is an essential.
     For grandmothers who shop on eBay, celebrity stalkers, and, yes, the Ph.D. with the ascot, Moskowitz has created a film with massive appeal.
     A hairy middle-aged man in a black sleeveless T-shirt sat two seats away from me.
     Thirty-five minutes in, he was uneasy in his seat-like a seventh-grader forced to sit through a PBS special on beekeeping.
     An hour later, the stomach-scratching gorilla leaned over to his friend and whispered, "I gotta get this book."
     If Mr. Hairy Man happens to read this, I found a copy of The Stones of Summer on eBay last week. It auctioned off for $1,200. You might want to check with your local library instead.
     A bright sense of humor and a keen journalistic sense, Stone Reader fields an original and inspiring premise that should not be missed.
     The film opens May 9 exclusively at AMC Hulen in Fort Worth and the Angelika Theatre in Dallas.