As a Historical Fiction novelist, I’m constantly blending facts and imaginary scenes. For me, the bits just tumble around like marbles in my head. Then I had my first conversations with readers.
Readers came up to me asking, “What is real, and what did you make up?”
The novel Islands of Deception:Lying with the Enemy is an espionage story based on my father’s notes. The key events are true. The narratives that I inherited relate what happened and at times there are brief introductions to other players. These isolated incidents were certainly appropriate for army reports, “Just the facts Ma’am.” As I read the originals, I kept sensing tensions in my gut as our two characters negotiated treacherous situations. I felt a brilliant hot sun shining on a South Pacific beach, the chill of concentration camp barracks, the betrayals of love and war.
Readers sensed the deep conflicts that caused the young brother and sister to take actions that had permanent consequences. Those conflicts had to be shown by imagining the circumstances. A beautiful girl is captured and arrives in Bergen Belsen a few weeks pregnant. Her ticket to survival is a flirtation with an SS officer who kept her as his mistress for three years. The character of the man who saved her life had to be constructed from their first meeting in a line up to a 1946 photo of two lost souls.
A key to imagining scenes was the opportunity to interview people who had vivid memories of their war experiences.
I spent days with a dear friend whose father was in the Dutch Merchant Marine. We translated books and notebooks to get the mental pictures of a crowded deck, and the dangers of traveling across open waters. Her father detailed a torpedo strike, and his narrative provided a chance for our combat photographer to learn what was important in a crisis. As a spy, Hans Bernsteen identifies a coast watcher who is providing the enemy with shipping routes. His vivid memory of the torpedo attack motivates him to take bold actions.
While Dad’s statement was terse, it was packed with information.
The apprehension of the coast watcher is a climactic scene. Because I have absolutely no military experience it was key to meet with naval experts. On a trip to Fall River Massachusetts, Don Shannon, curator of the PT Boats gave me an afternoon to climb around the boats and ask questions. I told him I was writing a book, but I didn’t know how to catch the bad guy. “Come with me.” We step outside. “Here’s a Daihatsu landing barge. How about if the guy was trying to get to the barge? That’s how they transported men to the submarines.” Don had a vision, one I couldn’t see. So, then what? Does the bad guy get to the barge or not? “Let’s get him to the barge, and then we’ll blow it up!”
Daihatsu Barge
So, that’s pretty much what I have done with the facts. I’ve just blown them up.