Who else but Asimov would make himself a minor character in his own novel? But then, who else was so prolific and eclectic a writer? A murder at the American Book sellers Association convention. How boring an atmosphere for murder can you imagine? Yet, after enticing us with the thought of a murder, he proceeds to weary us while entertaining us at the same time as his narrator (another author, naturally) drolly recounts the mundane events of the four day ABA convention: nearly hour by hour. Each character, beginning with the narrator, has its own chapter (some have several) and there are more characters than in Elmer Rices Street Scene. Fortunately the text is prefaced with a cast of characters in order of appearance, complete, thank you, with their principal vocation. Except for the murder (But, is it a murder or an accident?), this endeavor could be the script for a Seinfeld episode. About nothing! To add madness to mayhem, Asimov and his narrator, who supposedly have collaborated on this book, ceaselessly trade gainsay in footnotes. In the end, you will find that the pen is mightier than the sword. Snicker snee.