I finally found time in retirement to finish the stories I wrote over many years and tossed in a drawer. I’m interested in stories I feel need to be told—for instance now that the Cold War is over, all anyone seems to remember is the Berlin Wall. What about all those soldiers who had a secret and suicidal mission along the Border that stretched across Europe for forty years?  Out of my empathy for their story being neglected, came Shadows on an Iron Curtain. We know what Hitler did to the Jews and the POWs. We don’t know what he did to his own people—the ordinary German family. So Mutti’s War needed to be told because it was a part of world history not found in history books. Many people don't understand the special pressures on a military marriage, so Between Duty and Devotion often became a real choice. The new work in progress, as yet untitled, delves into the culture clash between street kids and the families who try to help them. Again, it is a story I felt needed to be told since some people still are naive enough to believe that love is always enough...sometimes it isn't.

What has been a major influence in your writing?

            Classical literature with its universal themes of human behavior under stress intrigues me, and probably Ernest Hemingway’s “iceberg theory”--that only what is necessary should show in a story—the reader can surmise what is beneath the surface if you have given the clues. I’d love to do it as well as he did, but probably no one ever will.

How is Between Duty and Devotion different from your two previous novels?

            It’s more psychological, more probing of human emotions simmering under the surface. We may judge others with no idea what they are facing under the bright shiny exterior they show to the public. This may be especially true among military officers. I watched as friends made painful mistakes. In seeking to understand how these things could happen in a marriage, I tried to tell the story from all sides and probe how relationships change and either grow stronger, or disintegrate under pressure.

How have your own life experiences helped you?

            I’ve lived among military families and officers for over 21 years and, though they are not much different from everyone else, they are subject to more stringent rules. Skiing with them and having them as close friends has given traits on which to model my fictional characters. And their problems offer endless drama to be morphed into story form. Their willingness to share their innermost feelings with me has been helpful, and it comes from the trust we’ve all built up together over many years. Sometimes, when writing, some detail may be missing. For instance, one of the three characters in Between Duty and Devotion is a widow who tries to express her fear of losing someone again. My own pain from having lost a husband is probably as relevant as anyone’s, so I can give her my emotions to go with her actions. No experience is ever lost—it will all serve to make the author’s characters more believable. These characters in Duty are composities, taken from five disintegrating marriages causing inadvertent pain, loneliness, and betrayal as well as loyal friendships. We all know how pain feels. Also travel opportunities, if one is observant, can give the writer a myriad of detailed settings and characters to plug in as needed.

Symbolism is apparent in this story. How do you create it?

            While teaching literature, I thought symbols were always a conscious construct of the author, and I assumed I’d probably never know how to “create” any. I find now, that when I’m merely telling a story, trying to make my fictional characters feel real emotions, I’m always surprised to recognize a symbol as sort of a happy accident. Yet taken altogether, I find that in Between Duty and Devotion, for instance, many of the symbols that came accidentally, actually build up to a warning for my characters that I had never voiced in the story line. An example of such an “accidental” symbol is when the I told the story of the couple in love in this old cabin, alone for the first time. The man builds a fire in the fireplace, anticipating a romantic evening with wine and firelight. But in his excitement, he forgets to open the flue, the room fills with smoke, and they must evacuate the cabin coughing and choking. The woman laughingly says to him, “What a shame. All that fire and no place to go with it.” It wasn’t until later that I noticed the event and her remark were “symbolic” of their relationship--loving each other with all the fire possible, yet never being able to be together forever as they want to do. Truly,  they had no place to go with the fire of their love. As I edit and reread, I find many such symbols that indicate things will never be the way they want them to be, yet they cannot see these warnings, and they keep hoping and believing. Well, what do you know? I made some symbols after all! How exciting!

What is the hardest part of writing a story?

            Getting attached to the characters. I tend to write about real life problems—in my estimation, the only thing I enjoy writing about. (fantasy friends, please don’t take offense) When you know wonderful human beings who have been battered by problems, it's hard not to want to make things work out better for their fictional counterparts. But life rarely hands us what we want. For instance, a fairy tale ending would put Between Duty and Devotion in the category of a Romance, and that is not what it is about. It would put Shadows on an Iron Curtain in the awkward role of romantic military history, whatever that might be. My stories are not about unfortunate events of life--they are about how we handle the mistakes of a lifetime. That is the more realistic story, and it throws the light of understanding on people who have been tested, sometimes, through great difficulty. I always find myself crying for my characters because they become very real to me as I write their story. I always hope life, and my novel, will treat them more kindly, but it rarely does.

What research materials are needed?

            Research is imperative, but there are many types of research. Interviews with people about their observations of life are my favorite form. There is nothing quite like the camaraderie one develops through the give and take of personal interviews. With both Shadows on an Iron Curtain and Between Duty and Devotion, I had the advantage of letters and diaries—even divorce papers—that friends were willing to share with me. I also worked on the military base, so I had much personal knowledge of the activities, secrets, and human failings that took place there. But with something like Mutti’s War, in addition to the interviews, it was also necessary to spend a couple of years researching WW II history books and maps to be sure the story was accurate in every detail. There is nothing worse than telling a story, even a fictional one, and making errors of historical fact. One author had a woman joining her husband in downtown Berlin on Unter den Linden Strasse at a sidewalk café DURING the last days of the battle with the Russians of WW II. Even my high school students who lived in Germany were appalled that the author (a famous one who we’ll keep mercifully nameless) had not done her homework enough to realize that 1) the street and all its buildings were obliterated by that time, 2) in the confusion, she would never have been able to even find her soldier husband, 3) nor get gas for her elaborate sports car to get there, and 4) anyone sitting in an outdoor café (even if it existed, which it didn’t) would have had to be crazy to be out in the middle of the Battle of Berlin. My students could not forgive that author or read her work again. I believe accuracy is as important in fiction as it is in non-fiction. So, I wouldn’t even write without checking the research.