Tag Archives: Joanne Guidoccio

Book Club Night

Posted on by Joanne Guidoccio

Last evening, I met with my book club to discuss Secret Daughter, Shilpi Somaya Gowda’s debut novel.

Kavita and Jasu Merchant are a poverty-stricken Indian couple living in a society that favors boys and considers girls a burden. Having lost one daughter to infanticide, Kavita decides to take Asha,  her second daughter,  to an orphanage in Shanti. She leaves her daughter with a thin silver bracelet and the hope that she will live and experience a better quality of life.

In San Francisco, Somer and Krishnan Thakkar–she’s a pediatrician and he’s a neurosurgeon–have been unable to have a child. Krishnan asks his mother in Mumbai to arrange for the adoption of an Indian child.

The story is told from the viewpoints of the three female protagonists–Asha, Kavita and Somer–moving forward in time from 1984 to 2009. Each woman has strong feelings about motherhood and India.  As they evolve on their respective journeys, they come to appreciate that country in different ways, realizing that “Mother India does not love all her children equally.”

Gowda has effectively captured the sights, sounds and smells of India. I could easily visualize the slums of Mumbai and taste the spicy food that Krishnan and Asha craved.

An excellent read!

Dealing with Dialogue Tags

Posted on by Joanne Guidoccio

Looking back at some of my earlier work, I cannot help but cringe at my use of “said bookisms” such as roared, admonished, exclaimed, queried, and hissed. I was trying to avoid overusing the word “said” and looked for suitable alternatives. I realize now that using all those words only made it sound like I enjoyed using my thesaurus. I was annoying the reader and drawing attention away from the dialogue.

It is not necessary to help the reader interpret the dialogue, or worse, tell the reader how the words are said instead of showing him. If the dialogue is strong enough, “he said” and “she said” will do. Like other parts of speech—the, is, and, but—that are used several times on each page, “said” is invisible to the reader and allows him to concentrate on the action and dialogue.

To add variety, I have been working on using action to vary the tags. I am also trying to simplify the narrative and use taut dialogue to build up tension.

The following excerpt from Kaleidoscope,  Gail Bowen’s latest in the Joanne Kilbourn Mystery series,  illustrates the effective use of dialogue:

The news I was about to deliver was harsh, and Taylor and Zack both knew it. Zack reached across the table and took our daughter’s hand.

“So how bad is it?” he asked.

“It’s bad,” I said. “Everything in the east half of the house is pretty well gone. The bedrooms are all right. The police wouldn’t let us look at the basement, but I think it’s safe to assume there’ll be structural damage there.”

“So, what’s left?” Taylor asked, her voice small.

“Your mother’s paintings are still on loan to that retrospective, so they’re safe. And the Scott Plear and your abstract were in our bedroom, so they’re fine. Nothing in your bedroom was touched.”

“But the room where the pool was is gone?” she asked.

I nodded.

“So the fresco I painted on the wall is gone?”

“Yes.”

“And the self-portrait I gave Dad for Christmas?”

“It was in the family room.”

“And the family room is gone?” Taylor’s eyes brimmed with tears, but she set her mouth in a determined line and turned to Zack. “I’ll paint another one.”

Colliding Worlds

Posted on by Joanne Guidoccio

Chief Inspector Armand Gamache is back in Three Pines, the idyllic village set in Quebec’s Eastern Townships. In this seventh entry of Louise Penny’s crime-fiction series, Gamache deals with the intricacies of the art world and, of course, murder.

When A Trick of the Light opens, 50-year old Clara Morrow is standing behind the frosted glass doors of the prestigious Musee d’Art Contemporain in Montreal. Before entering the “vernissage” (preview) of her one-woman show, she envisions every possible dream and nightmare about her future in the highly competitive art world. Her friends whisper reassurances and help her get through the event. Afterward, she returns to Three Pines for a party with her friends from the village and prominent members of the art world. The celebratory mood comes to an abrupt end with the discovery of a murdered corpse in Clara’s garden.

Murder has returned to the village that “produces bodies and gourmet meals in equal proportions.”

The dead woman is identified as Lillian Dyson, a childhood friend who cruelly betrayed Clara and destroyed many careers with her stinging art reviews. Faced with a wide field of suspects, Gamache and his deputy, Jean-Guy Beavoir, start their investigation. Gamache listens carefully to the artists, the people who support them, and the people who feed off them. Envy is a persistent theme, and we watch as the ravages of this strong emotion eat away at the characters, threatening their friendships, marriages, partnerships, and even lives.

In A Trick of the Light, Penny uses the worlds of art and Alcoholics Anonymous to explain fear and pain, hope and change. As these colliding worlds intersect, the characters stumble and search for reasons to live, love and forgive. Both worlds offer many surprises and people are not always what they appear to be. Throughout the novel, Penny poses the question: What is truth and what is a trick of the light?

The characters wrestle with the concept of forgiveness. Is it possible for a woman to forgive a spouse who  undermines her talent? Can a man forgive the chief inspector who arrested him for a murder he did not commit? What happens when a recovering alcoholic jumps to Step Nine of her handbook and asks for forgiveness?

The pacing is superb and the narration is simple and direct. The intricate plot follows all the rules of mystery writing complete with red herrings, false denouements, and a few gourmet touches. While reading Penny’s previous novels would provide context, the book is strong enough to stand on its own. Fans of the series will enjoy seeing their old friends from the village and watching their lives develop and change during the course of this investigation. At the end of the book, some of the characters’ lives are in shambles as they make tentative efforts to pick up the pieces. No doubt, Louise Penny will continue their stories in her eighth novel to be released in August 2012.

The Amateur Sleuth

Posted on by Joanne Guidoccio

sleuthWhen I decided to write a murder mystery, I gravitated toward the cozies. A longtime fan of Miss Marple, Nancy Drew and Jessica Fletcher, I felt comfortable with introducing an amateur sleuth instead of a private detective or other law enforcement officer.

My protagonist, Gilda Greco, is a career development practitioner. After winning a nineteen million dollar lottery, Gilda leaves her longtime teaching career and opens a career counselling office aimed primarily at helping boomers launch their second acts. While I haven’t won a lottery (yet), I am a retired high school teacher with a post-graduate diploma in career counselling. It made sense to create a sleuth who has my  background and skill set. Whenever Gilda discovers a body or encounters an obstacle, I  ask myself what I would in that situation. Writing in the first person also helps me get into Gilda’s head.

While researching my book, I discovered the need for getting the facts straight, especially with regard to official law enforcement.  Detectives and private investigators do not readily share information, so it is necessary for the sleuth to use her intelligence and curiosity  to uncover clues and motives. Traditionally, the amateur sleuth does save the day, but I was careful not to portray the local police force as too misguided or incompetent.

Movie Review: Monsieur Lazhar

Posted on by Joanne Guidoccio

The film opens with a hanging. A Grade 6 pupil walks into a classroom and finds his teacher’s body  dangling from a light fixture. The principal played by Danielle Proulx immediately springs into action. She hires a grief counsellor and orders the classroom stripped and repainted.

Finding a substitute teacher for the stricken class is more challenging. Her only option is Bachir Lazhar, the Algerian immigrant (Mohammed Fellag)  who  gatecrashes the school in the wake of this tragedy. His formal demeanor and tentative grasp of the Quebec curriculum set him apart from the school’s mostly female staff. But his intelligence and genuine warmth gradually win over the students and staff.

As we learn more about his own personal tragedy, we realize that he is well equipped to help these children deal with their grief. He does not hesitate to question the psychologist’s methods and interfere with the school’s healing process.

It is not surprising that Monsieur Lazhar received an Oscar nomination for best foreign-language film.


Book Review: Life After Transplant

Posted on by Joanne Guidoccio

The unforgettable Cappadoras are back.

They first appeared in Jacquelyn Mitchard’s debut novel, The Deep End of the Ocean, which dealt with a distraught mother, a kidnapped child and a family in crisis.  Selected as the first novel in Oprah Winfrey’s Book Club, The Deep End of the Ocean was named by USA Today as one of the ten most influential books of the past 25 years. It was also made into a feature film produced by and starring Michelle Pfeiffer.

In Second Nature, Mitchard adds Sicily Coyne to the mix. At the start of her teenage years, the pretty Irish/Italian/American survives a horrific fire while watching her firefighter father die. She is badly disfigured and begins her adolescence without a face.  She receives countless reconstructive surgeries and rebuilds her life with the unwavering emotional support of her Aunt Marie.

While preparing for her wedding to a childhood friend, Sicily discovers a shocking truth that shatters her carefully constructed world. She decides to have a facial transplant, a real possibility in this futuristic novel, set in the not-too-distant future. While the medical technology has improved, there are still substantial risks and definite consequences for the impulsive 20something Sicily as she plunges into an unlikely romantic entanglement with a Cappadora who has “a vocation for making bad choices.”

At times, I felt like shaking Sicily. I could certainly empathize with her aunt’s tirade on a memorable Christmas morning:  “You’ve put your life in real danger now. Thank you for that. You’ve stuck pins in hearts all over town…I’m sure that I’ll get over wanting to pinch you ‘til your arms bleed.

Mitchard has impeccable research skills.  In a recent interview, she described the six months devoted to researching this novel.  She spent long hours with firefighters and gained insight into their dual nature as “both the most cautious people on earth and utter adrenalin junkies.” She added to her pre-med background by interviewing anaplastologists who make noses, ears and fingers and learning all about the anti-rejection protocol that might allow a young woman to live a normal live after a face transplant.

The result is a moving and riveting story which effectively deals with the medical and emotional obstacles encountered by Sicily as she navigates the unexplored terrain of post-transplant life. The ending is a bit disappointing, ambiguous at best as the Cappadora clan gathers around Sicily and Beth Cappadora muses about “statistically impossible odds.”

Is Jacquelyn Mitchard planning another sequel?

The Beauty of a Woman

Posted on by Joanne Guidoccio

The following poem was written by the late educator-humorist Sam Levinson for his grandchild and read by Audrey Hepburn on Christmas Eve, 1992. It was also used by Ms. Hepburn on occasion when she was asked for beauty tips.





For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.

For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.

For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.

For beautiful hair, let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.

For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.

People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed; never throw out anyone.

Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you’ll find one at the end of each of your arms.

As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.

The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mode but the true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives the passion that she shows. The beauty of a woman grows with the passing years.