Reading the South
New Fiction by Regional Authors, June 2002
by Hal Jacobs
for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

After 40 years of marriage and four grown children (all lawyers), Caroline and Tom are ready to kick back and relax in Raleigh, N.C. They never sought out wealth -- she owns a dance studio and he's a public defender -- but an upper-middle-class prosperity has settled on them nonetheless. They've put enough money aside for retiring, island hopping and finishing the renovations on their home. Life is good. Then they receive two phone calls that turn their cozy little world inside-out in Jeanne Ray's Step, Ball, Change (Shaye Areheart Books, $22.95).

The first call is from their blubbering daughter Kay, announcing her engagement to a Raleigh blueblood whose family trademarks are perfect teeth and Mercedes SUVs. The second call is from Caroline's wealthy Atlanta sister, Taffy, who is leaving her failing marriage and, for the first time, needs to lean on her little sister.

Before you can say "Neil Simon," Tom and Caroline's house becomes ground zero for mood swings, sibling rivalry and serious financial conundrums. Adding to the commotion is Taffy's mean little terrier and a supporting cast of family and friends, including a contractor who presides over the never-ending home renovation.

Fortunately, Tom and Caroline never lose their ability to fire off a funny one-liner, even when faced with a daughter's wedding (over 900 guests!) that will either bankrupt them or mortally wound their pride. When they sit down with their accountant to ask where they can find the necessary funds, their trusted financial adviser exits her office convulsed in laughter. A few moments later, after several more flare-ups of laughing in the hallway, she returns.

"So what you're telling us through your hysteria is that we aren't going to be able to get three hundred seventy-five thousand from the bank," Tom says.

"I'm sure it's there," Annette says. "But you'll have to go in with a ski mask and a gun to get it, and that's not what I ever recommend to my clients, especially my favorite clients."

Ray, the author of "Julie and Romeo," pulls off a witty comedy of manners that aims at a professional class of people who happen to live in the South, but who could just as easily be from California. Don't be surprised if "Step, Ball, Change" comes soon to a metroplex near you. The endearing characters, clever plot points and crackling dialogue are fine-tuned and ready for their close-ups.

Finally, a love story for the animal rights community. In David Martin's Crazy Love (Simon & Schuster, $23), Joseph "Bear" Long, 32, is an Appalachian farmer, widely regarded as the village idiot, who ekes out a lonely, simple existence with his dogs and cows. Katherine Renault is a successful Washington lobbyist who is recovering from a recent operation at her fiancee's "hillbilly cottage." In her spare time, Katherine has started working with a local vet to find homes for stray animals.

One day a phone call leads Katherine to a pasture where she observes two locals attacking a cow with a pitchfork. She also meets Bear, who uses his extraordinary strength to put an end to the attack and to the cow's suffering. She likes what she sees.

He looked like he could've been an eccentric professor or funky jazz musician, maybe even an oversized poet. Katherine figured him at about her age or maybe a little older. She had a soft spot for oddballs; it was too bad this one stood there with his mouth hanging open because it made him appear moronic.

In Katherine's hands, Bear begins a long evolution from halfwit farmer-hunter to animal rights activist. Katherine undergoes her own dramatic changes as she falls under the spell of a true romantic who experiences love for the first time. Later, their relationship is sorely tested when their liberation of living veal (calves) leads to a vicious reprisal.

Martin, an author of 10 novels who lives on a small farm in Tennessee, reveals a wealth of understanding about the day-in, day-out life of an Appalachian farmer. He also pulls no punches about his character's righteous attitudes toward animal rights. Even the groundhogs get a chance to mount the soapbox and preach about humankind's wanton destruction of other animal species.

Bev Marshall's debut novel, Walking Through Shadows (MacAdam/Cage, $25), is a whodunit with a heavy Southern gothic accent. The year is 1941 in Zebulon, Miss. The strangled corpse of 17-year-old Sheila Barnes is found in the cornfield of a dairy farm. The suspects include Sheila's husband, a strapping young worker who has roughed her up in the past. There's also her father, an alcoholic low-life who had sexually abused Sheila since childhood; the owner of the dairy farm, who has an eye for the ladies; and Sheila's brother-in-law, a rogue who has made a few unscheduled stops before at her cabin.

Sheila's brief glimpse of happiness is told through flashbacks and through the eyes of the people who loved her, especially the wife and young daughter of the dairy farmer. Sheila is a dreamy-eyed creature whose charisma is only enhanced by her slight hunchback and sad upbringing.

As a mystery, the story slowly winds back and forth toward the final revelation of the murderer, with a trial and execution that reads like a postscript. As a Southern gothic novel, the characters have a tabloid-like thinness that eventually wears through. When Sheila fades from the story, so does much of the novel's spirit.
Marshall, a native of Mississippi, lives in Ponchatoula, La.

The cover of Ad Hudler's Househusband (Ballantine, $23.95) features a witty illustration of Michelangelo's David wearing an apron, with latex gloves stuck in the waistband and a feather duster in one pocket. In his raised hand is the handle of a straw broom. An upright vacuum cleaner stands by his side. Above the title are the words, "What every woman needs . . ."

Inside this debut novel is a completely different story, however. Linc Menner is the stay-at-home dad who rules the roost with the temperament of a Josef Stalin. While his wife pursues her dream job as chief operating officer of a Rochester, N.Y., hospital, Linc cooks, scrubs, potty trains, bullies the nanny, and throws his lot in with the lonely stay-at-home mom across the street. The longer he remains housebound, the bigger the chip on his shoulder grows and the lower his self-esteem drops.

Perhaps, as the book jacket blurbs suggest, some readers will find the account of Linc's fall from the traditional world of men, his descent into a mean-spirited neurotic, wickedly funny. Perhaps some readers will find the author's favorite recipes for gourmet meals helpful. Most likely though, readers will find the novel's harping on role reversals a bit dated -- and novels that contain recipes a bit tiresome.

Hudler, a former journalist and current Florida househusband, is at his best when he describes the mixed-bag blessing of the stay-at-home parent: the long hours, lack of appreciation and minimal adult interaction vs. the satisfaction of maintaining a healthy home and raising a happy child.

Genesis Styles, a former pro basketball player, must give up his smooth-talking, oversexed ways if he plans to hold onto his lovely fiance in Travis Hunter's Married But Still Looking (Villard, $21.95). "On the one hand, he loved Terri with all he had to offer, but on the other, he lacked the willpower and discipline to say no to a fat butt and a pretty smile."

Set in Atlanta, Hunter's novel offers insight into the hearts and minds of its young characters, who ultimately must choose between a life of responsibility or recklessness.

Hunter is an Atlanta resident and the author of "The Hearts of Men."

An edited version of these reviews appeared in The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, Sunday, June 30, 2002