Genoa Bay, book review

I like “fresh start” stories, and so when Genoa Bay, the latest by one of my most admired Christian novelists, hit the shelves, I was among the first in line. I appreciate Bette Nordberg’s fresh prose and have been especially drawn to her sensitive-yet-authentic portrayal of real-life issues such as domestic violence (Serenity Bay), marital infidelity (Pacific Hope), AIDS and homosexuality (A Season of Grace). With that in mind, I dove into the first pages of this beautifully-bound novel with much anticipation.

And I was off to a good start, with the enigmatic opening line: God talks to me. Thus, I was introduced to Brandy Beauchamp, a Navy widow with a young daughter, who leaves her comfortable life in Pensacola to tackle the renovation of a decrepit bed-and-breakfast in Genoa Bay, British Columbia. There, she catches the eye of another ex-patriot, Cliff, a divorced dad with twin boys, whose attention she returns with ambivalence. Her decision to open the B&B garners a different kind of attention, however, from the owner of the nearby marina, who wants to buy her land in order to develop a posh waterfront community. Overcoming increasing odds, Brandy must decide whether her dream is worth the price as she also learns to trust the Voice of God that guides her.

Throughout, Nordberg paints a pretty picture, deftly imbuing Genoa Bay, the novel, with a vivid sense of Genoa Bay, the place. But there are other elements that rub the sheen off the charm of this story. The strict linear narrative (even considering the occasional flashbacks) becomes predictable. Dialogue sometimes sags, as when it's used to tell the readers something the characters would already know. (The phone call between Brandy and her boss, for example.) More, though, as a lover of romance, I find the chemistry between the heroine and her love-interest lacking. Many of Brandy’s reactions to Cliff seem overblown and unsupported by the narrative - such as when she calls him an unusual man (in a mostly flattering way). I just don't see it.

Smaller issues should have caught an editor’s eye: the occasional (and confusing) inconsistency in verb tense; the naming two different boys “James;” the mention of Brandy’s 5-year-old daughter on the back cover, while on page one, she’s 7.

In his seminar, Writing the Breakout Novel, New York agent Donald Maass exhorts writers to create tension on every page - tension, as defined as those unexpected turns of plot and character that keep hungry readers turning pages. Genoa Bay lacked that kind of tension. It was a nice, gentle story, but little more.