History, Real Life, and Faith
A novelist can be accused of many things but innocence hardly seems likely. It’s such a peculiar life, sitting at a desk typing stories into a keyboard and screen. Real life goes on around you, but while you’re in the story, that’s where your focus lies. You start feeling proprietary about places and events. Whenever someone mentions the Coronado Bridge,…
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I’ve connected insomnia and prayer for years. But I’m getting tired of it. Long ago, I heard some sage person comment, “if you can’t sleep at night, pray. The devil doesn’t like it and he’ll stop harassing you so you can fall asleep.” I tried it. Often. I haven’t found the saying to be true. After seemingly days of not sleeping…
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It’s a sobering moment to realize Henry Huggins, in some camps, is considered historical fiction. How can a book I read and loved as a child be considered . . . . historical? Beverly Cleary first published the book in 1950. Nearly 70 years ago. In publishing circles, historical fiction is defined as “prior to the Vietnam war.” The Vietnam…
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My mother was an Italian immigrant. That’s her in the passport photo. Mom’s the baby. My grandmother, Fortunata, is the heroine. Or the crazy woman, depending on your perspective. If Fortunata looks a little stressed, keep in mind her baby was only two months old. Her other children were nine years and thirteen months months old. They was leaving in two…
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The extraordinary courage and need for bagpipes in the WWI trenches.
Old phots fascinate me. I’m in awe of those who can restore them. My admiration grew when I wrote A Poppy in Remembrance. As part of my research, I examined sepia images–and colorized pictures captured my imagination. How did experts put life and color into the images? Photo restorer Nick Harris contacted me and agreed to be interviewed. A British…
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