The Sand People by Jim Trainor (2013. Up North Press. ISBN 9781490936789)
When an evangelical friend of mine sent me three of Trainor’s books for Christmas out of the blue (we don’t exchange gifts) and I looked at the title of this novel, the author’s background, and the subject matter, I was actually ready to repackage the whole lot and send it off to our local recycling shed. But something intervened. Maybe it was my curiosity. Maybe it was my love for my friend (I’ve known her for over fifty years) or maybe, just maybe, it was the hand of God. I am, in the end, a believer in small miracles-the sort of things that make life sweeter and brighter on an every day basis. That’s likely what happened here. A small intervention from the Creator convinced me to read instead of pitch. And I am pleased that I did.
Karen and Kevin Langford, the protagonists of this tale, are a couple with two kids, careers, a mortgage, and a barely functioning marriage. Life, as it does for many married couples, seems to have gotten in the way of lust and love. Trainor sends the couple to Hawaii for a second honeymoon where the author interweaves Karen’s longing for intimacy and touch with a cast of intriguing locals, including Father Mitch, an Episcopal priest down on himself and his luck. We also meet the earthy Hanna, the devilishly handsome and charming Steve, and Callie, an aging woman who has, in the end, more wisdom than the rest of the cast. There’s enough action and intrigue to keep sophisticated readers interested in the story, and the book, despite being self-published, is well edited. I found nary a typo or mistake over its 300-plus pages. I liked this book. Liked it enough to spend President’s Day finishing it. And yet…
“Write as if your parents are dead.” This quote by American short story writer and novelist, Anne Lamott is one that serves me, I hope, well. I’ve tried, in my fiction, to make sure that, though what I write might be too sexual or violent or disturbing or raw for my parents to enjoy, I do not let my fear of losing their respect and love color my stories. That’s one of the things you must do as a writer: learn to avoid “safe”. Safe is writing like you wrote in high school English. Safe is always hiding the rugged, the ripped, the torn, the blackened parts of human existence in hopes the you don’t offend. Now I know, as an ordained Episcopal priest, Jim Trainor likely isn’t interested in writing a male version of Fifty Shades of Gray. Or maybe he is. But that’s not this book. The author is a decent storyteller and writer who has, in the end, chosen not to offend. The problem with taking such a safe path is, even though a character such as Mitch is exposed as having demons, they are soft and cuddly little buggers with velvet covered pitch forks; not roaring, nostril flaring bastards bent upon causing pain and agony. Had Trainer stretched his writer’s skin just a tad bit more, the characters and story would have rang more true, as Hemingway would say.
Then there is the lack of narrative. I love dialogue, and the exchanges in the book, for the most part, are steady, reliable, and written with veracity. But there is scant little narrative between the spoken words. If I had to guess, I’d say about 10% of the book is narrative and the other 90% is speech. This computation goes against another idiom of fiction writing: Show, don’t tell. Have the characters’ actions, rather than their words, convey meaning. Trainor is an experienced writer who avoids out and out speechifying (think John Gault in Atlas Shrugged). But there is so much dialogue in the book that this reader longed for descriptive passages to break up the constant banter between the actors on the stage.
To be fair, I did enjoy The Sand People and I found myself considering the people I love and how I treat them in my day-to-day life. Do I take them for granted? Am I paying enough attention to the things that really matter in human existence: family, friends, and God? At times, Mitch’s character became a bit preacherly. But it wasn’t to the point of distraction. The story, despite some missteps, affected my heart and mind in memorable and spiritual ways. Since that was Rev. Trainor’s likely intent, I’d say his effort was successful.
3 and 1/2 stars out of 4.
