The Tandem Tale Technique

It’s a powerful but seldom used writing style: past and present stories unfolding simultaneously within a novel.  I’ve only seen it twice.

One of the most profound examples is the Anasazi Mysteries, a trilogy by Kathleen O’Neal Gear and W. Michael Gear. One moment you’re wholly involved with prehistoric peoples of the American Southwest, the next you’re following the lives of a modern-day team of anthropologists trying to piece together the ancient clues. Both worlds were tense and engrossing. I could hardly stand for the stories to end.

The other is the recently released The Sandalwood Tree by Elle Newmark.  I reviewed it here http://fagan-authorspot.blogspot.com/2011/06/as-promised-sandalwood-tree.html In this case, the distance was only 90 years, 1857 and 1947, but the two worlds were significantly different nonetheless.

In both cases, the separate stories impacted each other in many startling ways, and the conclusions had the eerie effect of leaving you in both eras at once.

This is not a technique to take lightly. An author without the string of advanced degrees earned by the Gears, or the descriptive skills of Newmark, would be hard-pressed to pull it off. These writers are not only proven at their craft, but thoroughly immersed in their subject matter.  If you want a riveting read, you want these books!

As Promised: The Underside of Joy

A little family begins a sunny new day and immediately engages us in their amusing let’s-pretend rituals. It’s idyllic. It’s totally believable. You’d be happy to go on like this forever. But only a few pages in, the joy is abruptly shattered. The daddy, already off for the day, is killed in an unthinkable accident.

We’re as numb and heartsick as the mom, Ella, as she struggles through the essentials of family and funeral. But there’s little time for coping as the tragedy quickly compounds. Paige, the first wife who abandoned the children as babies, shows up at the funeral. Although Ella is the only mother the kids have ever known, Paige methodically begins to insinuate herself into their lives.

Then, besides the insurance policy they never got around to activating, Ella discovers that her husband and his close-knit Italian family have shielded her from the fact that their store is failing and deeply in debt. Now Paige is back with a lawyer demanding custody of the children. Through it all, Ella is determined, resourceful, and poignantly human.

From the cover blurb: “The Underside of Joy is…the conflict (between Ella and Paige) that uncovers a map of scars – both physical and emotional – to the families’ deeply buried tragedies, including Italian internment camps during World War II and postpartum psychosis.”

It is this debut treasure from author Seré Prince Halverson that got me through a long flight with layovers from NYC to Houston. This is a story that could happen, and probably has happened, any number of times, yet unique in the telling. Its power lies in its reality and relatability. But it’s a story I probably would not have found had Seré’s friend Elle Newmark not sent me in search of her.

Thank you, ladies!

As Promised: The Sandalwood Tree

India, 1947. British rule is drawing to a close and Partition begins. In the midst of this upheaval, an American anthropologist arrives on a Fulbright Fellowship to document events firsthand. With him are his wife, Evie, and their toddler son. In the seemingly peaceful outpost of Masoorla, Evie stumbles upon a cache of secrets hidden away by former occupants of their rented bungalow. Thus begins parallel stories of Evie’s family and the two women who lived there 90 years earlier.

This is Elle Newmark’s compelling new novel, the one I’ve been eagerly awaiting since she headed off to India for research. Just as she did in The Book of Unholy Mischief, Elle immerses us in the era, both with her gift for imagery and an abundance of authentic detail. You see women in colorful saris swirling through the bazaar, hear a tonga (carriage) clop along a dusty street, feel the grinding poverty, experience breathtaking scenery, smell a simmering curry. And you follow characters from both 1947 and 1857 through mystery and danger to the surprising moment that unites them.

From the cover flap: “The Sandalwood Tree is a powerful story about betrayal, forgiveness, fate, and love.” I gotta tell ya – it was terrible having to put it down two chapters from the end to go to New York!

This picture of Elle Newmark was taken during a side trip up the Himalayas. At 10,000 feet, she writes, she was only a third of the way up Mt. Everest.

Writing BFFs: Elle Newmark and Seré Prince Halverson

Let me interrupt my series on fellow VerveStar authors to tell you a sweet story.

A few years ago I ran into an uproarious and informative article called “Better Late Than Early” by Elle Newmark. I was so impressed that I had the audacity to write her a fan email. And she answered! She was, in fact, packing for a research trip to India when my note popped up. We’ve had a few brief exchanges since then, especially after I read her novel, The Book of Unholy Mischief (now retitled The Chef’s Apprentice). I reviewed it (here) as well as on Amazon and B&N. It was amazing. It’s a thoroughly researched, deliciously detailed, story of intrigue set in 15th century Venice.

Happily, I am now on her mailing list and was duly advised when The Sandalwood Tree, set in 1940s India, was released. I hadn’t quite finished it when I had to leave for New York and the BEA.

From my motel room I dashed off an enote asking Elle if she would be there. She responded:

I've never gone to the BEA but I have a dear friend who I believe is there right now. Her name is Seré Prince Halverson, her book is The Underside of Joy, and her publisher is Dutton. If you meet her tell her Elle says Hi. She's a great writer and genuinely nice to the bone.

Thus, basically an unknown to them both, I set out to do just that. I found Seré’s table in the Book Expo’s autograph section and got in line. Elle was right. She was indeed warm, unpretentious, and wholesomely pretty. Feeling a bit awkward, I blurted: “I have a message from Elle Newmark.”

Seré froze and her eyes widened. She actually teared up a little. Oh, dear. “Elle says ‘Hi’,” I continued lamely, “I had an email from her last night saying you were here.”

They weren’t just friends. They had known each other and written together for years and years. They were “sisters in writing,” Seré said. By the time I left, clutching an autographed copy of her book, I was nearly moved to tears myself. I’ve never had an experience like that – being a living link between two busy besties. Great feeling.

I promise to review both wonderful books in this space in very soon.

Elle Newmark’s The Book of Unholy Mischief : the story is history and suspense, but the book itself is a mystery. It…uh…smells good

There is a whole lot to say about Elle Newmark. Her PR coup, a virtual book-launching party that reached 500,000 people and netted her a prestigious agent and a 7-figure advance from the likes of Simon & Schuster, is legendary. I “met” her on Nikki Leigh’s blog http://detailwithnikkileigh.blogspot.com/ where her uproarious “Better Late Than Early” article was posted. Finding we were the same age and both newly published, I shot off an email with sisterly congrats. She was packing for India at the time but answered me anyway. We had a few exchanges since, and I still frequent her blog.

As for the story, it immerses us in 16th century Venice. We live history through the eyes of an urchin named Luciano who is plucked from the streets by the head chef of the lavish Doges Palace. But in the midst of exquisite culinary details, we are caught up in a vicious search for a particular book of alchemy, said to contain the secrets of wealth, power, and life itself. Beautifully and cleverly descriptive, the story twists, turns, and finally emerges as a lasting testament to wisdom and truth. (That was excerpted from my own review of this book.)

But this isn’t about either of the above. It’s the physical book itself. It smells good. That’s right. It smells good. It filled the room with a mysterious, ethereal fragrance the second I pulled it from its wrapper. The hardcover binding was absolutely steeped in it. It’s not like anything I’ve ever smelled before. It’s a haunting, hypnotic floral incense type of thing. What the heck is it? I sniffed my way passed high-end department store fragrance counters. Nope. I ducked into candle shops, hobby shops, and boutiques. I even browsed extensively in a mix-your-own perfumery in the Bahamas. Nope again.

But never mind the what of the matter. It’s the how and the why. Is it some gimmick Simon & Schuster employs with its Atria imprint? I emailed Elle. No, she’d never heard of them doing that. Ever.

I contacted the Amazon distributor who shipped it. No, she hadn’t personally spilled anything on it and hadn’t noticed anything peculiar when she acquired it.

When I was at the Book Expo in NY back in May, I stopped by the Simon & Schuster booth and asked ‘em point blank. Why, no. They’d never heard of such a thing!

Could it have happened in transit? But there would’ve been stains and fragrance on the padded envelope, right?

Ah, well. One more deep inhale and I’ll return it to the bookcase. Some things are just meant to remain a mystery, I suppose…