A Cold War Adventure
Date Published: 03-01-2026
Publisher: Bim Bom Books
When the first privately owned Soviet circus arrived in 1990 America as the Soviet Empire unraveled, its elite performers expected to build cultural bridges through spectacular shows. Instead, this prestigious troupe faced a perilous journey through Cold War America.
Circus director Yuri had to navigate treacherous waters where American mobsters, Soviet agents, and political forces circled like predators. Young aerialist Anton dreamed of becoming a clown against his family's wishes, while forbidden romances and unexpected connections bloomed between Soviet performers and Americans who saw past the ideological divide. As high-stakes conspiracies threatened to tear the circus family apart, they had to choose between the authoritarian chains of home and the uncertain promise of freedom.
As The Ringmaster reminds us, "The best Soviet stories are like vodka—they burn with suffering, intoxicate with conflict, keep you stewing in reflection, and yearning for your heart's desire." This genre-bending tale explores whether human connection can transcend ideology—and whether storytelling can bridge the divides that separate us.
Interview with Cliff Lovette
Could you tell us about any research trips you took for this story? Which places did you visit, and what made them essential to your writing?
My most important research trip happened before I knew I was researching a novel. In 1991, Bobby Liberman walked into my Atlanta law firm and told me the story of the circus he’d road-managed across America. That conversation became the foundation for everything that followed.
In 1996, I traveled to Columbus, Ohio, to see Anton Chelnokov—one of the real performers whose story inspired characters in the novel—perform live. Watching him work the crowd, seeing the craft and athleticism up close, gave me sensory details no amount of library research could provide.
Beyond that, my research was archival and human. I tracked down the Louisville promoter who had worked with the tour. I found the Roswell, Georgia, Rotarian who had hosted a Fourth of July party for the performers—and listened as he described, with tears in his eyes, how a towering Russian strongman had put an arm around his shoulder during the fireworks and said, “Happy Birthday, USA.” That moment stayed with me for decades.
I studied declassified State Department documents about the Bush-Gorbachev summit negotiations, traced connections between promoters on both coasts, and dug through newspaper archives from Atlanta, Los Angeles, and New York. Every answer generated new questions. Every document pointed to another I hadn’t yet found. As M.J. Porter writes—and I quoted her in a recent guest post—we must “question everything and not just accept it.” The research never ends.
What's the strangest thing you've ever had to research online for your book?
I’m not sure “strange” is the right word, but the most unexpected rabbit hole was literary rather than historical. I found myself reading—and rereading—Kurt Vonnegut and Shakespeare not for plot research but to find my narrator’s voice.
The Ringmaster is a character who breaks the fourth wall, delivers satirical commentary, and philosophizes about truth and storytelling. To get his voice right, I needed to study masters of that kind of narration. Vonnegut taught me how to be simultaneously playful and profound. Shakespeare’s fools—who speak truth to power through wit and indirection—became models for how Soviet clowns functioned in real life: entertainers who said what no one else dared to say.
So while other historical fiction writers might be researching period-accurate buttons or railway timetables, I was studying the craft of comic truth-telling across centuries. The Ringmaster owes debts to Vonnegut’s narrators, Shakespeare’s Feste and Lear’s Fool, and the real Bim and Bom—who mocked the Bolsheviks from center ring and lived to tell about it. Mostly.
What research (history, mythology, science) goes into your world-building?
Decades of it. I drew on declassified State Department documents about the Washington Summit negotiations, newspaper archives spanning The Atlanta Journal-Constitution to The Washington Post, transcribed interviews with over a dozen people connected to the tour, original circus performance programs printed in Russian and English, and legal filings from the era.
The Soviet clown tradition required its own deep dive. The original Bim and Bom performed incendiary political satire during the Russian Civil War. Yuri Nikulin rose from circus clown to beloved movie star—when he died in 1997, President Yeltsin addressed the nation: “We’ve all become orphans today.” Understanding that tradition was essential to building the world my characters inhabit.
But world-building doesn’t end on the page. I embedded over forty-five links to period music and historical footage throughout the novel—readers can listen to “Entrance of the Gladiators” during the circus’s arrival or watch Reagan’s full “Tear Down This Wall” speech after reading the chapter. I created twenty-five animated character avatars and vintage circus posters for the companion website. The research didn’t just inform the writing—it became the foundation for an entire multimedia storytelling experience.
Have any of the people you've known, past or present, left a lasting impression on your writing journey? If so, we'd love to hear about a memorable experience that stands out to you.
Three people above all others.
Bobby Liberman, who walked into my law firm in 1991 with a story so fantastical I would have made it up, except it was true. Without him, there is no Circus Bim Bom.
My late friend David Rams, who was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer and used whatever time he had left to badger me into writing this novel. He urged me—no, insisted. His persistence finally took hold. I wish he’d lived to read it.
And my English literature teachers at Friends Academy and a creative writing professor at Tufts who recognized and nurtured my storytelling instinct long before I did. I dedicate the book, in part, to them. They saw something in a young man who loved spinning yarns and gave him permission to take that impulse seriously.
Do you write in the same genre all the time?
I don’t think about writing in a genre. I’m a storyteller, and the story dictates its own form.
Circus Bim Bom is a multi-genre blend—Cold War fiction infused with elements of satire, romance, political thriller, and coming-of-age. It refuses to sit neatly on one shelf, which is both its strength and its marketing challenge. I think of genre primarily as a tool for reader discovery and bookshelf placement—a way for the right readers to find you. But when I’m writing, I’m following the emotional truth of the story, not a genre template.
If so, have you ever consider writing in another one?
Since my debut already bends multiple genres, the answer is built into the work. The story dictates the genre, not the other way around.
If I continue these characters beyond the duology—perhaps fast-forwarding to around 2000, when Russia has become a kleptocracy and mafia state—the story might lean more heavily into political thriller territory. But it would still carry the humor, the humanity, and the emotional complexity that define the Circus Bim Bom world. I follow the story wherever it leads.
Which character, supernatural or human, do you enjoy writing the most and why?
The Ringmaster holds a special place. He’s my narrative voice, my co-conspirator, and the character who gave me permission to write this book.
When I first encountered him in my imagination, he arrived fully formed—teal top hat, stylized mustache, that knowing glint in his eye. He announced his creed immediately: “Don’t let truth ruin great story.” I’d carried this story for over thirty years, worried about getting every detail right. The Ringmaster freed me to pursue emotional truth over documentary precision—to honor the essence of what happened while crafting a tale worth telling. He breaks the fourth wall, challenges readers’ assumptions, and makes the satirical commentary land.
But I have several favorites. John Stallion surprised me with his complexity—he’s not who he appears to be at first. Natalia’s fierce determination stays with me. And Alek and Tiko, the clowns—they carry the legacy of the original Bim and Bom, using humor as an act of resistance. Writing their comedy routines while knowing the danger they represent was one of the great pleasures of this book.
About the Author
Cliff Lovette is a father, storyteller, and dog lover living in Sandy Springs, Georgia. For over 40 years, he practiced entertainment law, serving as Senior Vice President at LaFace Records and representing artists including Usher and Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes. His passion for bridging historical divides led him to co-produce a groundbreaking reconciliation event between descendants of Buffalo Soldiers and Lakota Native Americans. In 1990, when Bobby Liberman—road manager for the first privately owned Soviet circus touring America—became his client, Cliff discovered the true story that inspired this debut duology.
TikTok: @ringmaster606
YouTube: @TheRingmaster-n7y
Author's Edition
The Author's Edition comes with:
• Signed bookplate
• Digital circus poster
• Charter Bim Bom Book Club Membership
• Exclusive access to "Rabbit Hole" chapters
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