In her first novel, Toronto writer Julia Gaunce leaps nimbly from idea to turn of phrase, using subtle wordplay to delineate her quirky characters’ quirky world. To say that Rocket Science tells the story of the Wicker family – Mr., Mrs., daughter Vicki, and grandmother Peach – would be to stretch a point. The only linearity here is in the way in which words and phrases in one chapter become jumping-off points or sly echoes in the next.

Vicki’s memory of a poster on the wall of a dentist’s office morphs into a visit to the dentist for her father in the next. Mr. Wicker’s observation that ladies’ hose is a nuisance as he fantasizes about the dentist’s assistant is echoed in his wife’s thoughts as she contemplates the efficacy of ladies’ hose in fixing cars – though in all other respects, she admits, it is a nuisance.

Some of the most effective linguistic tricks are found in the chapters that focus on Vicki. In the first chapter, for instance, the girl wonders if her mother’s lipstick is “genetic makeup.” But young Vicki is not the only one confused by the world. Her mother lives in a dream, awakening only for the leatherworking classes she takes by night. Peach exists in a cranky haze marked by malapropisms: “She would like to have a bandana for breakfast, but toast will do. No point in burning down the barn with the bathwater.” Mr. Wicker is passionate about his work as the superintendent of their building, and also about all women, everywhere.

With Rocket Science, Gaunce has made an extraordinary debut. Those who read for the familiar and comforting three-act story arc will be stymied by this novel. Those hoping to discover a vibrant new talent with a remarkable way with language will study Rocket Science again and again.