Into the Fire

There's no question Susan Meissner is one of the finer writers in the cadre of CBA novelists. With unique storylines and elegant prose sporting a touch of humor added like just the right spice, Susan tells stories that gain intimacy with her readers. The reason for this is because she's able to capture the less often viewed emotional makeup of humanity in many of its various forms. The Girl in the Glass, published by Waterbrook Press, is Susan's newest release, and it falls squarely in the Women's Fiction genre. The trend in this novel and the four preceding this one has been to tell a story that moves back and forth between a historical connection and a contemporary reality.

Marguerite (Meg) Pomeroy's nonna, deceased when the story begins, has left a lasting impression on her granddaughter concerning the beauty and mystery of Florence, Italy. Meg's dad has promised to take her there someday, but "someday" seems to have come and almost gone without them ever getting the opportunity to visit the city together. Following her parents' divorce and her dad's remarriage, Meg begins to realize what she's always assumed would eventually happen is very likely not going to become a reality in her life as an editor at a publishing house of travel books. Until one day her dad makes arrangements to stop by her "borrowed" cottage to tell her he's "working on" getting a trip together. His seriousness convinces her hoping heart it might actually occur this time.

When Meg receives an urgent communication from her father not too long after his visit with a ticket to Florence, she only has minutes to decide if she'll throw together enough for a trip, somehow make the necessary arrangements for cat-sitting not to mention send an emergency email to her employers, to the city she longs to see and be able to meet him there. With unusual arrangements to get her to the airport, she flies off to Italy. Her only connections there are the brother-sister team (Lorenzo and Renata) of several travel books her publisher has produced including one they're presently working on and a hopeful writer (Sophia) Meg wants to publish. Expecting to find her father when she lands, she's stunned to realize he didn't come.

Relying heavily on Sophia's accomodating ways as neighbors in the same building to Lorenzo and Renata, Meg glides into a relative comfort zone as Sophia gives her an insider's look at the magnificently beautiful city of Florence. Having almost sold her publisher on the possibility of doing the book Sophia is constructing which claims she's from the infamous Medici line, there are a few roadblocks to overcome in order to make Sophia's dream of exposing the art and beauty of Florence from the whispered appreciations of the under-known Medici Nora Orsini.

Throughout the story, Meg's loneliness is exposed, her attractions to certain males noted, but her passions stilled until she accepts a definition of love which fluctuates between reality and fantasy while discovering the beauty of a city which seems to define her soul.

The historical meditations of Nora Orsini punctuate the contemporary story as it unfolds. The concluding chapters of this story are quite different from what I expected which is why I stated that Susan Meissner has a flair for the unusual in her storytelling. The ending itself works for the book, although the getting-there seemed a tad rocky for me.

While not my favorite of Susan's work, The Girl in the Glass has some lovely and thoughtful passages, exposing the intricate workings of family connections, seeing what we want to see vs. hoping for what we don't see, and ultimately finding a satisfactory way to accept what is without degrading it or letting it excuse what can't be changed. Life's inner workings often leave us in the lurch, but we can choose to find beauty and love life in spite of it all. The faith elements are thin but when they surface become poignant. After reading this novel, perhaps Women's Fiction isn't a genre I embrace, but Susan's readers won't be disappointed.

Father, please continue to bless Susan with the opportunities to use her skills. Thank you for her efforts to make stories both elegant and unique without subtracting the commonplace. Bless her, Lord, in all she does for you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.