Showing posts with label Peter Palmieri. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peter Palmieri. Show all posts

Saturday, March 29, 2014

REVIEW: "The Art of Forgetting" by Peter Palmieri (Virtual Book Tour Cafe)

Sooooooooo, awhile back I did a post about an awesome looking book that I didn't have time to read when it was touring.  The author graciously allowed me to have a copy of the book in return for a review when I had time.  Shamefacedly, I admit it took me far longer to read it than I expected, but here is my review for....

BLURB
"Dr. Lloyd Copeland is a young neurologist who is tormented by the conviction that he has inherited the severe, early-onset dementia that has plagued his family for generations – the very disease which spurred his father to take his own life when Lloyd was just a child. Withdrawn to a life of emotional detachment, he looks for solace in hollow sexual trysts as a way to escape his throbbing loneliness. Still, he clings to the hope that the highly controversial treatment for memory loss he’s been researching will free him from his family’s curse.

But when odd mishaps take place in his laboratory, his research is blocked by a hospital review board headed by Erin Kennedy: a beautiful medical ethicist with a link to his troubled childhood. The fight to salvage his reputation and recover the hope for his own cure brings him face to face with sordid secrets that rock his very self-identity. And to make matters worse, he finds himself falling irretrievably in love with the very woman who seems intent on thwarting his efforts."


AMAZON  *  GOODREADS

Genre: fiction: medical (medical suspense)
Publisher: self
Rel  ease date: June 2013


ABOUT THE AUTHOR - Peter Palmieri
Peter Palmieri was raised in the eclectic port city of Trieste, Italy. He returned to the United States at the age of 14 with just a suitcase and an acoustic guitar. After attending public high school in San Diego, California, he earned his bachelor’s degree in Psychology and Animal Physiology from the University of California, San Diego. He received his medical degree from Loyola University Stritch School of Medicine and completed his pediatric training at the University of Chicago and Loyola University Medical Center. More recently, he was awarded a Healthcare MBA by The George Washington University. A former student of Robert McKee's Story seminar and the SMU Writer's Path program, and a two-time attendee of the SEAK Medical Fiction seminar taught by Tess Gerritsen and Michael Palmer, Peter is now busy practicing general pediatrics at a large academic medical center while working on his next medical suspense.

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REVIEW
I received a review copy of this book in return for a fair and honest review, which follows:

Alzheimers in one of the most devastating diseases to ravage families across this grand planet.  Slowly stripping individuals of their memories, it brutally robs individuals of their identities while completely changing how their families operate.  Many of my friends have loved ones who have succumbed to this hideous monster of a disease, and I've watched the devastation unfold.  Memories make us who we are.  But what if all that could be changed?  But what if a cure is not worth the risk?

LONG STORY SHORT...
Written with a medical accuracy only possible from someone who has worked in the medical field, The Art of Forgetting is a masterpiece of medical and psychological suspense.  This artful novel follows part of the story of Lloyd Copeland, an esteemed doctor who has devoted his life to the search for a cure for Alzheimer's, a brutal identity thieving disease which affected his father, and his father's father before him.  For Lloyd, it is only a matter of time.  He must find this cure.  He is so close to finding a cure....but at what cost?  

A suspenseful plot that includes medical mystery, psychological discovery, romance, and a sinister plot to ruin someone's career for the sake of riches - this novel has a little something for everyone.  Even my husband was intrigued, and he doesn't read fiction.  

Palmieri, an esteemed medical professional himself, is a superb author.  He successfully creates a character who is about as huggable as a porcupine on crack, but that you just want to keep hugging despite the quills.  Medical situations are crafted with a clear insider's knowledge of how the medical world actually operates.  The plot unfolds in a complex manner that is twisted but not confusing.  My only quibbles with the book are thus: during some conversation scenes it is hard to track who is talking, and it is so infinitely detailed that in several scenes I got lost in minutia.  Otherwise, a superb book.  Part of me hopes Lloyd's story continues...

On an ascending scale of 1 to 5, this book receives a 4.

LONG STORY
The Good
I absolutely loved this book.  This morning when I was finishing reading, my husband was asking me to "get up....you've been awake for an hour already!"  My response?  "I'm finishing the book I've been reading!!"

The Art of Forgetting is one of the most intricate and psychologically satisfying books that I've read in a very long time.  It contains levels of deceit, manipulation, familial and relational history, medical information, and interesting selfishness that were just plain satisfying to unravel as the pages turned (rather quickly, I might add). 

Lloyd Copeland is an esteemed medical professional who has a bright future ahead of him....if he can manage to toe the line to keep his job when his superiors seem determined to derail his research.  This isn't just his research, this is his life.  You see, Copeland is conducting research on a possible cure for Alzheimers.  His father was ravaged by the disease, as was his father before him.  So were their wives.  For Copeland, it is only a matter of time before the disease ravishes him too.

Romantic relationships?  Who in their right mind would start one knowing it would end in Alzheimers?
But then along comes Erin, the woman whom he knew as a girl and who might challenge everything he thought he knew about being in love...

Pets?  Only if you count the mice he injects with the "cure" he has discovered....

Close friendships?  Who has the time to get close to anyone when one is trying to save his own life?

This is the story of a man who is set to begin human trials of a revolutionary new cure for Alzheimer's, a cure which will never reach humanity if Copeland doesn't figure out what happened with the mouse who apparently died from the cure, who is blocking his research and how, and who is after his job?  Are they all the same person?  What are their motives?  And just what is he supposed to do with the beguiling woman who won't leave his thoughts?

Gosh, I loved this book. 

I loved it because it was set in the modern world (I've read a lot of mythical stuff lately, as well as a decent amount of dystopian futures) and the characters feel like real people I might meet in a real coffee shop or hospital.  They are human, fragile, running from their own personal demons, fallible, and determined to reach specific goals. They behave in ways that make sense according to their unique personalities, rather than in ways that simply serve the author's purposes.  They refuse to be defined easily.

I loved it because it has roots in psychology, which was my major in college and is one of my continuing passions.  Yet it's psychological roots were balanced with medical roots as well (not one or the other, as so often happens in fiction that deals with a condition of some sort).  These medical roots were clearly laid out by an author who has a real-world grasp of medicine and so made inherent sense and was true to science.  This is important!  I've read stories with medical aspects where it is clear the author is a novice trying to make sense of the the medical terms they're researching for their story.  Not so here.  Palmieri is an actual doctor and the medical writing here is spot-on.  

I loved it because we so often hear on the news "This doctor from this place is starting  human trials for medicine designed to address this condition...." and here we have a story of what went behind a trial.  Granted, the trial is fictional, but it is good to remember that behind every drug that ever went to human trials, there were humans trying to figure out a disease.  Humans with motivations and mental struggles all their own. 

I loved it because it has a super complex and intriguing plot that is rather unpredictable, engaging, and quite a whirlwind.  I needed to know what happened next....lost a bit of sleep while reading this book.  : )

I loved it because psychology and medicine are all wrapped together with and ethical debate that unfolds within these pages.  What are the ethics of conducting trials of an experimental drug on humans?  What are the ethics of leaving thousands of families to suffer the effects of Alzheimer's?  What would your ethics demand if you were close to a cure that could help millions, including yourself (possibly....but you'll have to read the book to see why I said that), but everything was inexplicably standing in your way?

The Bugly (bad/ugly)
Two significant issues caused this book to lose a star: 
1) Characters sound too much like one another.  Regular readers of my blog know this is one of my pet peeves.  Yes yes yes, I get that many of these characters are highly educated individuals who would have traveled in high academic circles with the same kinds of speech patterns.  Truly, I get that.  It just bugs me when characters sound too similar to one another, particularly when conversational scenes don't contain many of the "he said, she said, then he said" kind of identifiers that show you clearly who is speaking.  Many scenes here confused the bugger out of me as I tried to figure out who was saying what.  They needed more identifiers to show who was talking. 

2)  Too.  Much.  Detail.  Okay, I get that a certain amount of detail is necessary for medical explanations and processes to make sense.  The problem is that I get so stuck in the minutia of some of the scenes that it felt like my brain was stuck in a slog of information.  Maybe I was just looking for too much story around the details, but every medical thing was explained in far too much detail.  Don't worry, I have the same complaint about Lord of the Rings and some of the battle scenes.  Detail is good.  Too much detail is difficult.  

Thursday, September 19, 2013

BOOK FEATURE: "The Art of Forgetting" - by Peter Palmieri (Virtual Book Tours Cafe)

Every now and then a book finds you.  This is one such book!!  I have a psychology degree and work in the mental health field, so anything to do with anything regarding human behavior fascinates me.  Also being fascinated by biology and having worked on the fringes of the medical field (I served at a group home), I was immediately pulled in by "The Art of Forgetting", a hugely medical / psychological book...and the cover is AWESOME!!  While this post is a book feature post - and I'm more than happy to feature this book! - know that I received permission to do a review as well.  I simply CANNOT wait to read this book!!

Oh, and the author grew up in one of the places I desperately want to visit.  Italy!!

Don't forget to scroll all the way to the bottom of this post...you don't want to miss the giveaway!!

BLURB
"Dr. Lloyd Copeland is a young neurologist who is tormented by the conviction that he has inherited the severe, early-onset dementia that has plagued his family for generations – the very disease which spurred his father to take his own life when Lloyd was just a child. Withdrawn to a life of emotional detachment, he looks for solace in hollow sexual trysts as a way to escape his throbbing loneliness. Still, he clings to the hope that the highly controversial treatment for memory loss he’s been researching will free him from his family’s curse.

But when odd mishaps take place in his laboratory, his research is blocked by a hospital review board headed by Erin Kennedy: a beautiful medical ethicist with a link to his troubled childhood. The fight to salvage his reputation and recover the hope for his own cure brings him face to face with sordid secrets that rock his very self-identity. And to make matters worse, he finds himself falling irretrievably in love with the very woman who seems intent on thwarting his efforts."


Genre: fiction: medical (medical suspense)
Publisher: self
Release date: June 2013


ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Peter Palmieri was raised in the eclectic port city of Trieste, Italy. He returned to the United States at the age of 14 with just a suitcase and an acoustic guitar. After attending public high school in San Diego, California, he earned his bachelor’s degree in Psychology and Animal Physiology from the University of California, San Diego. He received his medical degree from Loyola University Stritch School of Medicine and completed his pediatric training at the University of Chicago and Loyola University Medical Center. More recently, he was awarded a Healthcare MBA by The George Washington University. A former student of Robert McKee's Story seminar and the SMU Writer's Path program, and a two-time attendee of the SEAK Medical Fiction seminar taught by Tess Gerritsen and Michael Palmer, Peter is now busy practicing general pediatrics at a large academic medical center while working on his next medical suspense.
EXCERPT
      “Isn’t it a sin to have some thoughts, Father Roy?” Mrs. Langdon said in a near whisper.
     Father Roy was breathless. “About tulips?” he asked, attempting to sound nonchalant, but his voice quivered.
     “As a man, do you ever feel the urge to –”
     “I am not the one in confession, sister,” Roy said. It was not the first time someone had tried to ask him that question – a query impertinent souls seemed compelled to ask a young priest with the looks of a Hollywood movie star.
     “I’m so ashamed, Father. I don’t know what’s happened to me. I just don’t know what to do any more.”
Father Roy grasped the silver crucifix hanging over his chest and rubbed it between thumb and forefinger. He considered giving a short discourse on the tenth commandment but decided on a more pragmatic approach.
     “When our path grows dim and we’re in peril of losing our way, it’s helpful to remind ourselves of our commitments. Our commitments define who we are. When I step in the shadows, I remind myself of the covenant I made with God.”
     “My husband sickens me.”
     The suddenness of the statement left Father Roy speechless.
     “We haven’t had sex in over six months,” she said. “I wanted you to know that.”
     “The Diocese offers couple’s therapy for marital conflicts. Perhaps –”
     “Couple’s therapy!” Mrs. Langdon said with a sour chuckle. She shook her head. “I’m such a fool. For some reason I was under the impression that we…” She pulled a crumpled handkerchief out of her handbag, dabbed her nose and sniffled. “Tell me my penance, Father.”
     Roy hesitated. “Your penance is to reflect on the holy sacraments of our church. And… say a rosary.”
     “Am I absolved of my sins?”
     Father Roy made the sign of the cross, trying not to make it appear perfunctory and said, “Go in peace, sister.”
     He listened to the clicking of her heels resonating off the church’s tiled floor as she walked away, brought a knuckle to his lips and inhaled deeply through his nose. How was it that he had still not learned to recognize when women were attracted to him? Was he doing something to garner this type of attention? Could he whole-heartedly deny that he enjoyed it?
     A figure entered the confessional and sat heavily on the wooden bench. “Forgive me father, for I’m about to sin.”
     The musty smell of stale beer and sweat permeated the enclosed space making Father Roy sit back and turn away.
     “How long has it been since –”
     “You know damn well the last time I went to church, Roy.”
     “Andrew?” Father Roy studied the silhouette through the perforated partition. “Is something wrong?”
     “It started, Roy.”
     “I’m sorry?”
     “It has begun. How did Churchill phrase it? Not the end of the beginning but the beginning of the end… or maybe I’m saying it all wrong. I don’t know, you’re the one with the fancy schooling.”
     “Maybe we should go in the Parish office.”
     “It’s been going on for months. I know you’ve seen it too. You just didn’t want to say anything and of course I’ve been trying to hide it. That’s the Copeland family way, isn’t it? Ignore things, deny they’re happening, hide all the evidence and go about your business with a stiff upper lip. Isn’t that what Pops did?”
     “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he did know. He couldn’t deny that in the last year he had witnessed his brother’s worsening mood swings and those barely perceptible moments of hesitation that were becoming more frequent. Those same tell-tale signs he had witnessed in his father when the illness had yet to progress to its extreme. Signs that made Roy feel powerless, like a sandcastle on a beach in the face of a slowly rising tide. So he ignored it all, said nothing, and prayed.
     “At first I thought I was just overworked, you know,” Andrew said. “Pulling overtime, staying out late with the boys, getting burned by the candle at both ends, so to speak. Then this morning, I’m driving to work. I got my thermos and lunch pail on the front seat. I get on the Eisenhower, same damn route I’ve taken for twelve years. But today I get to South Damen and I realize I don’t know where the hell I’m going. I don’t have a fucking clue!”
     “Andrew, please.”
     He lowered his voice. “I don’t have a flipping clue, Roy. I pull over in front of Cook County and I start bawling like a kid in a department store who can’t find his mom.”
     “Have you been drinking?”
     “It’s not the booze, Roy. It’s not the damn booze.”
     “Have you seen a doctor?” the priest asked.
     “What for?”
     “They might be able to help.”
     “Like they helped our father... who art in heaven?” Andrew snorted. “You know there’s not a damn thing they can do.”
     Roy swallowed hard. He wiped beads of sweat from his upper lip as a rhythmic pounding grew in his temples.
     “You’re frightening me, Andrew.”
     “I’m frightening you?” Andrew let out a chuckle. “Hell, Roy, you never had nothing to be frightened of your whole life except God above.”
     Someone knocked on the door of the confession box.
     “Hold your piss out there! The stall’s taken,” Andrew said in a gruff voice. There was a timid shuffling of feet, then the resonating silence of the church. “Roy, I’ve never been good with words, and I don’t like to wear my feelings on my sleeve like a damn chevron, but I want you to know something. I want you to know that you’re the best damn brother I could have ever asked for.”
     Roy felt a pall of guilt draping over him. “I’m the one who should say that to you.”
     “Just hear me out. I know I haven’t always told you, but I’m proud of you. I’ve always been proud of you... even when you made us lose at stick-ball.”
     “Which was all the time.” The men chuckled.
     “You made me a better man,” Andrew said.
     “After all you’ve done for me I can’t bear to hear you say that.”
     “I thought this was a confessional. Don’t people come here to get things off their chests?”
     “They come to be absolved of their sins,” Roy said.
     “And you can do that?”
     “God can do that. It’s never too late to open your heart.”
     “It’s too late for me. But I do need to get something off my chest.”
     “I’m listening.”
     “It’s time to come clean with you about something, Roy. Something you should have known long ago.” Andrew rubbed his massive hands together, stopped suddenly and cracked his knuckles. “Two things we Copelands have always been able to do: hold our liquor and keep a secret.”
     “I’m afraid I’m not so good with the liquor part,” said Roy.
     “No, I suppose not, padre,” Andrew said with a wistful smile. The wooden bench creaked as he shifted his weight and leaned into the partition. “Now listen carefully. I can only stand to say this once.”
The two men sat with their heads inches from each other as Andrew spoke in a hushed tone. At one point Roy let out a gasp and recoiled. Andrew paused as his brother gazed at the darkness hanging over the floor – the priest’s eyes darting about – and resumed his soliloquy when Roy leaned heavily towards him again.
Andrew murmured for another minute or two. Finally, he straightened and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as if to brush away the bitterness of the words from his lips. “Just promise, if something happens to me, you’ll take care of the bride and child.”
     “What’s going through your mind?” Roy said between heavy breaths.
     “Just promise me.”
     “You know I would never abandon them.”
     “That’s all I needed to hear.” Andrew cleared his throat and sat silently.
     Roy felt as though he were inching towards the edge of an abyss. That he would fall into the darkness if left alone to ponder his brother’s revelation. But an even stronger fear was pulsing through his veins. There was something in Andrew’s countenance: an eerie sense of relief, a cool resoluteness that sent a shudder down the base of Roy’s neck.
     “Maybe I can come by the house tonight,” Roy said. He wanted to punch through the partition, to clench his brother and not let him leave.
     “You got customers waiting,” Andrew said. “Business is good for you these days.” Andrew got to his feet. “Good-bye, Roy.”
     “Godspeed, Andrew.”
     When Andrew opened the oak door of the confession box, a small man wearing a tweed jacket stood outside, a crest of wild gray hair spilling over his wrinkled forehead. The man’s eyes opened wide at the site of the large police officer stepping out of the confessional and he began to finger the well-worn fedora he held by his paunch, turning it in his hands as if it were a steering wheel. Andrew stopped in front of him and said, “Give a man a chance to pull his pants back up, will you?”
     Roy greeted the next penitent in the confessional but his mind remained on his brother. How was it possible to feel such dread and deliverance, contempt and gratitude, guilt and utter relief all in the same breath? He had witnessed souls under severe strain shift from throes of laughter to sobs of despair in the span of a few seconds and always wondered how this was possible. But now he understood. He rested his head in his hands, elbows digging in his thighs, and tried to catch his breath.
     A sound like a hollow crack startled him. Not the sound of a kneeler. It must have come from outside. It brought his focus back on the words of the old gentleman who confessed that he lied to his wife about going to Cicero and losing fifty bucks at the Hawthorne race course, and that he harbored less than charitable feelings towards the Negroes who were moving westward into good Irish neighborhoods.
     The murmur of voices reverberated off the church’s arched ceilings. Then a single plaintive voice: “Someone call an ambulance. A cop’s been shot!”


     Now seriously people, how can one NOT want to read the whole book after this excerpt?!

     And for the giveaway......

Giveaway: Signed Paperback & Bookmark Prize Pack, 3 Ebooks, 2 Bookmarks


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