Where There’s Smoke – Jodi Picoult (2014)

Where There’s Smoke by Jodi Picoult, published in 2014, introduces readers to Serenity Jones, a flamboyant and controversial psychic medium who walks the tenuous line between fame and spiritual truth. As a prequel novella to Picoult’s later full-length novel Leaving Time, this story delves into the backstory of Serenity, a television personality famed for her televised psychic readings and paranormal insights. It sets the stage for her eventual involvement in the mystery at the heart of Leaving Time, offering readers an evocative glimpse into the challenges of fame, the responsibility of a “Gift,” and the volatile intersection of truth and performance.

Plot Summary

Serenity Jones had always seen what others could not. As a child, it was a velvet-clad ghost boy rifling through her drawers. As a woman, it was the soft shimmer of the dead clinging to the shoulders of the living. Her pink hair rose like a flag over the battleground between spectacle and truth. The world knew her as a daytime talk-show psychic with the swagger of a pop star and the firepower of a medium who delivered messages from the great beyond. But even Serenity’s carefully lacquered world was built on a thin layer of combustible energy.

On the set of her hit show, Serenity’s mantra before each taping – Let’s do this – became both invocation and warning. She touched her guests’ hands, felt the flood of invisible currents, and gave voice to the voiceless. Her audience was meticulously curated, drug-tested, and background-checked, because she knew too well how messy spiritual energy could derail a reading. What no one saw, however, was the psychic triage behind the scenes – Desmond and Lucinda, her spirit guides, kept her grounded. Or tried to. Desmond was sassy and blunt, Lucinda serene and maternal. They were the filters between Serenity and an endless deluge of the dead. But even filters can clog. Even gatekeepers can go silent.

Betsey Rycroft appeared as the ideal guest – young, grieving, and holding her infant son, swaddled in a blanket pinned with a Purple Heart. Her husband, Lieutenant Jason Rycroft, had died a war hero in Iraq. What she wanted was simple: a whisper from the other side, proof that love hadn’t died with his body. What Serenity got instead was a wall of rage. Jason came through not with tender murmurs, but with scorching energy that pelted her skin and squeezed her lungs. He showed her sandstorms and gunfire, his name badge soaked in blood, and a truth heavier than the uniform he died in. Captain Ferreira, the man hailed as the hero of Jason’s unit, hadn’t saved him. He had killed him.

Serenity delivered the message with the kind of cool detachment only someone in survival mode could summon. Betsey, stunned, held her child closer. The studio light blew, the grip’s glove caught fire, and chaos unfolded like a prophecy. Even as Serenity channeled Jason’s final message – Friendly fire – she knew the truth wouldn’t bring peace. Some spirits didn’t want closure. They wanted revenge. And Jason Rycroft wasn’t ready to go quietly.

Fires began to follow Serenity like shadows. The bottom of her kitchen table burst into flames. Her shower towels ignited mid-rinse. Her curling iron sparked like a Roman candle. Jason had become a poltergeist, tethered to the earth by fury and betrayal, and Serenity was his chosen conduit. She tried to explain this to Marcy, her ever-pragmatic producer, but Marcy was too busy fielding calls from networks and government officials furious over the anti-military backlash. Ratings soared, controversy burned hotter than wildfire, and the next step was clear – redemption.

Senator John McCoy’s son, Henry, had vanished from a schoolyard in Bethesda. No ransom. No leads. A boy with a bright face and a family spiraling into public grief. Serenity saw an opportunity to help – and, though she wouldn’t admit it out loud, an opportunity to reclaim her throne. If she could find Henry, she could silence every skeptic, every headline, every whisper about charlatanism. A cold case turned hot. A live show. All she needed was a sign.

But when the McCoys arrived, their energy was toxic. The senator reeked of bourbon and bravado. His wife, Ginny, floated on a cloud of sedatives and heartbreak. Serenity reached out across the veil, desperate to hear Desmond, Lucinda, Henry – anyone. Silence. Then, at last, a whisper: Ocala. A bus.

The crew flew to Florida, cameras in tow, hoping for a miracle. Serenity wandered through a humid bus station, praying to feel something, anything. Nothing stirred. So she faked it. A flick of the hand. A glance at the police dog. A hunch disguised as a revelation. Locker 341. The stench of decay poured out like a scream. Inside, the bloodied suitcase held the remains of Henry McCoy.

Ginny collapsed. The senator lunged at the cameraman. Serenity turned and fled, vomit in her throat and ash in her heart.

The fallout was swift. The show went on hiatus. The senator was arrested for assault. Ginny overdosed on sorrow and pills. Serenity became tabloid fodder and late-night punchline. Jason Rycroft’s fire had moved from spiritual to social, and she was the one left smoldering.

At home, the blazes continued. Drapes, grilled cheese sandwiches, and her best dress were all victims of Jason’s wrath. Desperate for meaning, Serenity tried to apologize to Desmond and Lucinda. She tried to explain herself to Betsey, who accused her of destroying what little comfort she had left. Serenity tried to disappear, but even in silence, fire followed.

In the charred ruins of her career, Serenity found herself face to face with a firefighter, a veteran like Jason, who had once received a phone call from his dead son. He believed her, not because she was famous, but because some things don’t need proof to be true. His name – Captain Ferreira – landed like thunder. Whether it was coincidence or cosmic punchline, Serenity didn’t know. All she knew was that she’d delivered Jason’s message, and the universe had answered in its own, twisted way.

The flames roared one last time. Her kitchen table, blackened and hollowed by previous fires, ignited again under the night sky. But this time, Serenity didn’t move. She wrapped herself in a mink throw, held a bottle of wine, and watched it burn. No panic. No fire extinguishers. No spirits offering advice. Just the crackle of wood, the heat of consequence, and the hollow ache of a woman who once heard voices and now only heard her own doubts echoing in the dark.

And in that silence, she realized – sometimes, all you can do is let it burn and wait for the ash to settle.

Main Characters

• Serenity Jones – A psychic medium with a brash sense of style and a big personality, Serenity is the charismatic host of a hit television show. Despite her celebrity, she remains haunted by the metaphysical weight of her abilities and the ethical lines they often blur. Her spirit guides, Desmond and Lucinda, both offer comic relief and grounding wisdom, but Serenity’s real challenge is navigating the cost of truth in a world obsessed with entertainment. Her arc sees her fall from stardom into chaos, wrestling with a poltergeist, public scorn, and her own shaken faith.

• Betsey Rycroft – A grieving young widow desperate to connect with her husband, who died in Iraq. Her sincere yearning and vulnerability provide one of the novella’s most moving moments. The truth Serenity uncovers about her husband’s death—killed by friendly fire, not enemy combatants—forces Betsey into a conflict between comforting lies and painful honesty.

• Lieutenant Jason Rycroft – Though dead, Jason is a fierce and active presence throughout the story. His spirit becomes a poltergeist, unleashing his fury on Serenity after she reveals the truth about his death. His unresolved trauma and rage manifest as fire, symbolizing both literal and emotional destruction.

• Marcy – Serenity’s pragmatic and ratings-driven producer. Marcy plays the corporate counterweight to Serenity’s spiritual mission, often pushing her toward sensationalism and commercial gain over ethical or emotional clarity.

• Senator and Ginny McCoy – Parents of a kidnapped boy, Henry. Their desperation becomes the centerpiece of Serenity’s most high-profile and disastrous psychic attempt. Their grief and eventual devastation provide a sobering look at the dangers of misplaced hope and the ethical perils of psychic work in life-and-death matters.

Theme

• Truth vs. Performance – The novella interrogates the blurry line between authentic spiritual insight and public spectacle. Serenity’s fame demands she produce results for the camera, but true connection with the spirit world doesn’t obey showbiz timelines or expectations.

• The Burden of the “Gift” – Serenity’s psychic abilities are both a blessing and a curse. Her talent for connecting with the dead comes with emotional, ethical, and sometimes physical consequences. Her struggle illustrates how supernatural gifts can isolate and consume those who possess them.

• Grief and Longing – Whether it’s Betsey’s yearning for her husband or the McCoys’ desperate search for their son, grief permeates the story. Each character’s suffering underscores the raw, often irrational hope that loved ones can reach back from beyond—a hope Serenity is both empowered and burdened to answer.

• Fire as Metaphor and Manifestation – Jason Rycroft’s poltergeist manifests his rage through spontaneous combustion, turning fire into a physical metaphor for unresolved trauma. Fire here represents destruction, truth, and transformation—a force of reckoning that consumes both lies and illusions.

Writing Style and Tone

Jodi Picoult’s prose in Where There’s Smoke is immediate, accessible, and tightly paced, mirroring the urgency of a live talk show and the emotional volatility of paranormal encounters. The first-person narrative through Serenity’s sharp, sarcastic voice infuses the story with personality and wit. Picoult excels at capturing both the outer gloss of media culture and the interior struggle of her protagonist, with conversational language that contrasts with the heavy spiritual subject matter.

The tone alternates between irreverent humor and stark emotional depth. Serenity’s dialogue is laced with sass and self-deprecation, often masking deeper wounds. Yet when the spirits speak—or when grief surfaces—the writing slows, becomes heavy with weight and meaning. This oscillation between flippancy and sincerity mirrors Serenity’s own conflict between entertainer and empath. Picoult’s talent for nuanced emotional layering ensures that even amidst talk-show theatrics, the reader never forgets that real pain and loss lie just beneath the surface.