Diane Chamberlain's Blog - Posts Tagged "silence"
A Good Story Never Goes out of Style . . . I Hope.
One of my older books, Breaking the Silence, will be reissued in December, so my editor recently asked me to take a look at it to see if it needed updating. It was originally published in 1999, and it's been a looong time since I read it. I'm enjoying the story (as I try to remember what happens! This plot has so many twists even I can't remember them all). As I read, I'm keeping my main purpose in mind: how does the book need to be changed to fit 2009? Cell phones? Fashion? Car models? Laptops? I thought it would be simple to zip through the book and update it, but I've discovered I have quite a dilemma on my hands.
You see, Breaking the Silence took/takes place in both 1999 and in the fifties. It's the story of Laura Brandon, whose father's dying wish is for her to take care of an older woman who is a complete stranger to her. The story moves back and forth between Laura's current day relationship with the older woman, Sarah, and Sarah's life as a psychiatric nurse in the fifties. The problem is that I can't move the scenes from the fifties into the sixties because the story rests on the CIA mind control experiments which took place in that earlier decade. And I can't make Sarah any older than she is because. . . well, just trust me. I can't. So it looks like the book, while being reissued in 2009, will still need to be set in 1999. Would that bother you as a reader? I'd really like to update it, and plan to create a meticulous timeline this weekend to see if there's any way I can tweak the story to make that happen, but I don't think it will be possible and still make it believable. So what do you think? Does a good story go out of style?
You see, Breaking the Silence took/takes place in both 1999 and in the fifties. It's the story of Laura Brandon, whose father's dying wish is for her to take care of an older woman who is a complete stranger to her. The story moves back and forth between Laura's current day relationship with the older woman, Sarah, and Sarah's life as a psychiatric nurse in the fifties. The problem is that I can't move the scenes from the fifties into the sixties because the story rests on the CIA mind control experiments which took place in that earlier decade. And I can't make Sarah any older than she is because. . . well, just trust me. I can't. So it looks like the book, while being reissued in 2009, will still need to be set in 1999. Would that bother you as a reader? I'd really like to update it, and plan to create a meticulous timeline this weekend to see if there's any way I can tweak the story to make that happen, but I don't think it will be possible and still make it believable. So what do you think? Does a good story go out of style?
The Courage Tree
For years, my readers (and I) have been hoping that some of my older books would become available again. Now it's finally happened, and the reissue of The Courage Tree is only the beginning. Breaking the Silence will be released late in the year, and next year, Summer's Child and Cypress Point will hit the stores.
The Courage Tree is the story of a little girl who disappears during a camping trip and the desperate race against time to find her. (And one of the characters lives in a very cool treehouse. Okay, I know that's not as important as 'the desperate race against time', but I love that treehouse!). Those of you who've alrady read the book will understand why the little girl, Sophie, is holding a tulip poplar blossom on the cover. And just a little inside scoop: the art director had no tulip poplar blossoms handy, so he (she?) combined two other flowers to create one. A great job, I think!
You can find The Courage Tree at your local bookstore or at Amazon.com or BarnesandNoble.com. I hope you enjoy it and that you'll let me know what you think once you've read it.
The Courage Tree is the story of a little girl who disappears during a camping trip and the desperate race against time to find her. (And one of the characters lives in a very cool treehouse. Okay, I know that's not as important as 'the desperate race against time', but I love that treehouse!). Those of you who've alrady read the book will understand why the little girl, Sophie, is holding a tulip poplar blossom on the cover. And just a little inside scoop: the art director had no tulip poplar blossoms handy, so he (she?) combined two other flowers to create one. A great job, I think!
You can find The Courage Tree at your local bookstore or at Amazon.com or BarnesandNoble.com. I hope you enjoy it and that you'll let me know what you think once you've read it.
Sneak Peek at Breaking the Silence Cover
Breaking the Silence will be reissued in December, and I thought you might like a sneak peek at the cover my publisher is working on for it. There's a lot going on in this story, as there usually is in my books: a mute little girl, an old woman with memory loss, a man and his hot air balloon, the CIA mind control experiments that took place in the fifties, and the woman who ties them all together! What more could you want?
Please visit my blog to see the new cover!
http://dianechamberlain.com/blog/2009...
Please visit my blog to see the new cover!
http://dianechamberlain.com/blog/2009...
Whose Story Is It?
Point of View.
Every author has to figure out which character (or characters) is telling the story, and if she’s telling it alone, and if she’s telling it in first person or third (or sometimes from an omniscient perspective), and if she’s telling it in past tense or present. So many decisions! As I begin my new work-in-progress, tentatively titled The Midwife’s Confession, I’m grappling with all these decisions. That started me thinking about point of view in my recent and upcoming books.
I always–at least so far–write in past tense, so that part’s easy. In Before the Storm and Secrets She Left Behind, I told the stories from four points of view, each in first person. What a challenge that was! I needed to be so careful to differentiate between the voices. Even in third person, that’s important, but in first person it’s critical. I loved it, though, because writing in first person made me feel so close to all my characters.
In Breaking the Silence, which will be reissued in less than a month (yeah! I love that book and I’m so happy it’s coming out again), I wrote from three points of view, all third person. Laura, the woman whose father makes a deathbed plea for her to take care of a stranger, has the largest role. Dylan, the father of Laura’s little girl, has a smaller but still important role. And some may argue that the elderly stranger, Sarah, has the most critical role of all. Her story takes place in the past and everything that happens in the present hinges on the events from her life.
In Summer’s Child, which will be reissued in April, I have four points of view, again all in third person. This story of a newborn baby discovered on a beach has more twists than a roller coaster! I just finished proofing the galleys for the reissue and noticed that I did something I rarely do anymore: I changed points of view in the middle of a chapter. I didn’t remember doing that. It definitely works, thank goodness. One thing I’d never do is risk switching POVs in the middle of a scene, although I know some writers who do so successfully. I don’t like jumping around that much, either as a writer or a reader. Even though the POV shift works in Summer’s Child, I’ll probably stick with different chapters for different characters for the rest of my career. I like the neatness of that approach.
In my upcoming June 2010 book, The Lies We Told, I tried something very different. I tell the story only from two points of view, a rarity for me, and one of the POVs is first person (Maya) while the other is third person (Rebecca). Why did I do that? Because the book is primarily Maya’s story and I wanted the reader to feel closer to her. I think the first person POV accomplishes that.
The Midwife’s Confession will have four points of view, and I just realized they’re all female. I’m debating whether any of them will be first person. I think I’ll try the central character’s first few chapters both ways to see which feels right to me.
If you’re a writer, how do you make the decisions about POV? And if you’re a reader, do you even notice? I frankly hope not! A good story should be so seamless that the mechanics of writing shouldn’t even register with a reader. . . unless that reader happens to be a writer as well. Then all bets are off!
Every author has to figure out which character (or characters) is telling the story, and if she’s telling it alone, and if she’s telling it in first person or third (or sometimes from an omniscient perspective), and if she’s telling it in past tense or present. So many decisions! As I begin my new work-in-progress, tentatively titled The Midwife’s Confession, I’m grappling with all these decisions. That started me thinking about point of view in my recent and upcoming books.
I always–at least so far–write in past tense, so that part’s easy. In Before the Storm and Secrets She Left Behind, I told the stories from four points of view, each in first person. What a challenge that was! I needed to be so careful to differentiate between the voices. Even in third person, that’s important, but in first person it’s critical. I loved it, though, because writing in first person made me feel so close to all my characters.
In Breaking the Silence, which will be reissued in less than a month (yeah! I love that book and I’m so happy it’s coming out again), I wrote from three points of view, all third person. Laura, the woman whose father makes a deathbed plea for her to take care of a stranger, has the largest role. Dylan, the father of Laura’s little girl, has a smaller but still important role. And some may argue that the elderly stranger, Sarah, has the most critical role of all. Her story takes place in the past and everything that happens in the present hinges on the events from her life.
In Summer’s Child, which will be reissued in April, I have four points of view, again all in third person. This story of a newborn baby discovered on a beach has more twists than a roller coaster! I just finished proofing the galleys for the reissue and noticed that I did something I rarely do anymore: I changed points of view in the middle of a chapter. I didn’t remember doing that. It definitely works, thank goodness. One thing I’d never do is risk switching POVs in the middle of a scene, although I know some writers who do so successfully. I don’t like jumping around that much, either as a writer or a reader. Even though the POV shift works in Summer’s Child, I’ll probably stick with different chapters for different characters for the rest of my career. I like the neatness of that approach.
In my upcoming June 2010 book, The Lies We Told, I tried something very different. I tell the story only from two points of view, a rarity for me, and one of the POVs is first person (Maya) while the other is third person (Rebecca). Why did I do that? Because the book is primarily Maya’s story and I wanted the reader to feel closer to her. I think the first person POV accomplishes that.
The Midwife’s Confession will have four points of view, and I just realized they’re all female. I’m debating whether any of them will be first person. I think I’ll try the central character’s first few chapters both ways to see which feels right to me.
If you’re a writer, how do you make the decisions about POV? And if you’re a reader, do you even notice? I frankly hope not! A good story should be so seamless that the mechanics of writing shouldn’t even register with a reader. . . unless that reader happens to be a writer as well. Then all bets are off!
Whose Story Is It?
Point of View.
Every author has to figure out which character (or characters) is telling the story, and if she’s telling it alone, and if she’s telling it in first person or third (or sometimes from an omniscient perspective), and if she’s telling it in past tense or present. So many decisions! As I begin my new work-in-progress, tentatively titled The Midwife’s Confession, I’m grappling with all these decisions. That started me thinking about point of view in my recent and upcoming books.
I always–at least so far–write in past tense, so that part’s easy. In Before the Storm and Secrets She Left Behind, I told the stories from four points of view, each in first person. What a challenge that was! I needed to be so careful to differentiate between the voices. Even in third person, that’s important, but in first person it’s critical. I loved it, though, because writing in first person made me feel so close to all my characters.
In Breaking the Silence, which will be reissued in less than a month (yeah! I love that book and I’m so happy it’s coming out again), I wrote from three points of view, all third person. Laura, the woman whose father makes a deathbed plea for her to take care of a stranger, has the largest role. Dylan, the father of Laura’s little girl, has a smaller but still important role. And some may argue that the elderly stranger, Sarah, has the most critical role of all. Her story takes place in the past and everything that happens in the present hinges on the events from her life.
In Summer’s Child, which will be reissued in April, I have four points of view, again all in third person. This story of a newborn baby discovered on a beach has more twists than a roller coaster! I just finished proofing the galleys for the reissue and noticed that I did something I rarely do anymore: I changed points of view in the middle of a chapter. I didn’t remember doing that. It definitely works, thank goodness. One thing I’d never do is risk switching POVs in the middle of a scene, although I know some writers who do so successfully. I don’t like jumping around that much, either as a writer or a reader. Even though the POV shift works in Summer’s Child, I’ll probably stick with different chapters for different characters for the rest of my career. I like the neatness of that approach.
In my upcoming June 2010 book, The Lies We Told, I tried something very different. I tell the story only from two points of view, a rarity for me, and one of the POVs is first person (Maya) while the other is third person (Rebecca). Why did I do that? Because the book is primarily Maya’s story and I wanted the reader to feel closer to her. I think the first person POV accomplishes that.
The Midwife’s Confession will have four points of view, and I just realized they’re all female. I’m debating whether any of them will be first person. I think I’ll try the central character’s first few chapters both ways to see which feels right to me.
If you’re a writer, how do you make the decisions about POV? And if you’re a reader, do you even notice? I frankly hope not! A good story should be so seamless that the mechanics of writing shouldn’t even register with a reader. . . unless that reader happens to be a writer as well. Then all bets are off!
Every author has to figure out which character (or characters) is telling the story, and if she’s telling it alone, and if she’s telling it in first person or third (or sometimes from an omniscient perspective), and if she’s telling it in past tense or present. So many decisions! As I begin my new work-in-progress, tentatively titled The Midwife’s Confession, I’m grappling with all these decisions. That started me thinking about point of view in my recent and upcoming books.
I always–at least so far–write in past tense, so that part’s easy. In Before the Storm and Secrets She Left Behind, I told the stories from four points of view, each in first person. What a challenge that was! I needed to be so careful to differentiate between the voices. Even in third person, that’s important, but in first person it’s critical. I loved it, though, because writing in first person made me feel so close to all my characters.
In Breaking the Silence, which will be reissued in less than a month (yeah! I love that book and I’m so happy it’s coming out again), I wrote from three points of view, all third person. Laura, the woman whose father makes a deathbed plea for her to take care of a stranger, has the largest role. Dylan, the father of Laura’s little girl, has a smaller but still important role. And some may argue that the elderly stranger, Sarah, has the most critical role of all. Her story takes place in the past and everything that happens in the present hinges on the events from her life.
In Summer’s Child, which will be reissued in April, I have four points of view, again all in third person. This story of a newborn baby discovered on a beach has more twists than a roller coaster! I just finished proofing the galleys for the reissue and noticed that I did something I rarely do anymore: I changed points of view in the middle of a chapter. I didn’t remember doing that. It definitely works, thank goodness. One thing I’d never do is risk switching POVs in the middle of a scene, although I know some writers who do so successfully. I don’t like jumping around that much, either as a writer or a reader. Even though the POV shift works in Summer’s Child, I’ll probably stick with different chapters for different characters for the rest of my career. I like the neatness of that approach.
In my upcoming June 2010 book, The Lies We Told, I tried something very different. I tell the story only from two points of view, a rarity for me, and one of the POVs is first person (Maya) while the other is third person (Rebecca). Why did I do that? Because the book is primarily Maya’s story and I wanted the reader to feel closer to her. I think the first person POV accomplishes that.
The Midwife’s Confession will have four points of view, and I just realized they’re all female. I’m debating whether any of them will be first person. I think I’ll try the central character’s first few chapters both ways to see which feels right to me.
If you’re a writer, how do you make the decisions about POV? And if you’re a reader, do you even notice? I frankly hope not! A good story should be so seamless that the mechanics of writing shouldn’t even register with a reader. . . unless that reader happens to be a writer as well. Then all bets are off!
In a Fog
Ah, the title challenge once again.
My publisher plans to reissue Cypress Point in late 2010–a plan which makes me very happy! This is the old cover, and I can’t wait to see what they’ll come up with for the new one. In addition to changing the cover, they would like to change the title to one that’s more in keeping with my more recent books. It’s true that my recent and upcoming books have more evocative titles–The Secret Life of CeeCee Wilkes, Before the Storm, Secrets She Left Behind, The Lies We Told–the sort of titles that make you go “Hmm. . . wonder what that book is about?” So I agree with them. Now it’s time to put on my thinking cap, and I’m asking you to join me.
One concern I have over the change in title: I once bought a book by a favorite author, only to realize that I’d already read it under a different title. I’m going to discuss that problem with my publisher and make sure it’s clearly stated somewhere that the book is indeed a reissue.
For those of you not familiar with Cypress Point, it’s about an old woman named Carlynn who is reputed to be a healer. She lives on a cliff in Monterey, California, with its twisting roads and dense fog and beautiful cypress trees. Then we have a medical social worker, Joelle, whose best friend is seriously ill. In spite of the fact that Joelle is in love with her friend’s husband, she enlists the help of Carlynn to try to heal her. Half the book explores the dramatic story of Carlynn and her sister, Lisbeth. The other half is Joelle’s current day story as she makes decisions that will impact the rest of her life and the lives of those she loves.
So the main themes are: Who really needs healing in the story? What is the real meaning of healing? Lesser themes include the entwined relationship between sisters and the link between love and friendship.
As I think about titles, I’m definitely stuck in healing mode.
•The Healer’s Choice
•Her Sister’s Gift
•The Healer of Cypress Point
•Healing Lessons
•The Healer’s Promise
•The Last Healing
•The Reluctant Healer
Then I got off on the fog and the winding roads.
•A Path Through the Fog.
•Hidden by the Fog.
•A Turn in the Road
•A Twist in the Road
I don’t think I’ve found the magic words yet. Maybe we can brainstorm together?
My publisher plans to reissue Cypress Point in late 2010–a plan which makes me very happy! This is the old cover, and I can’t wait to see what they’ll come up with for the new one. In addition to changing the cover, they would like to change the title to one that’s more in keeping with my more recent books. It’s true that my recent and upcoming books have more evocative titles–The Secret Life of CeeCee Wilkes, Before the Storm, Secrets She Left Behind, The Lies We Told–the sort of titles that make you go “Hmm. . . wonder what that book is about?” So I agree with them. Now it’s time to put on my thinking cap, and I’m asking you to join me.
One concern I have over the change in title: I once bought a book by a favorite author, only to realize that I’d already read it under a different title. I’m going to discuss that problem with my publisher and make sure it’s clearly stated somewhere that the book is indeed a reissue.
For those of you not familiar with Cypress Point, it’s about an old woman named Carlynn who is reputed to be a healer. She lives on a cliff in Monterey, California, with its twisting roads and dense fog and beautiful cypress trees. Then we have a medical social worker, Joelle, whose best friend is seriously ill. In spite of the fact that Joelle is in love with her friend’s husband, she enlists the help of Carlynn to try to heal her. Half the book explores the dramatic story of Carlynn and her sister, Lisbeth. The other half is Joelle’s current day story as she makes decisions that will impact the rest of her life and the lives of those she loves.
So the main themes are: Who really needs healing in the story? What is the real meaning of healing? Lesser themes include the entwined relationship between sisters and the link between love and friendship.
As I think about titles, I’m definitely stuck in healing mode.
•The Healer’s Choice
•Her Sister’s Gift
•The Healer of Cypress Point
•Healing Lessons
•The Healer’s Promise
•The Last Healing
•The Reluctant Healer
Then I got off on the fog and the winding roads.
•A Path Through the Fog.
•Hidden by the Fog.
•A Turn in the Road
•A Twist in the Road
I don’t think I’ve found the magic words yet. Maybe we can brainstorm together?
Breaking the Silence is Here!
I’m thrilled that Breaking the Silence has been reissued so that my newer readers get to enjoy this suspenseful story. It should be available today, November 24th, online and in stores, and you can read an exerpt from it here. (If your book store doesn’t have it, remember that they can order it for you at no charge). This book is one of my favorites and I love the new cover. I thought I’d share an interview I did for this special reissue with you. Note to readers groups: This book is a particularly great one for discussion, and a readers’ guide is available on my website. I’ll be posting a bit more about the research that went into Breaking the Silence over the next couple of weeks. Enjoy!
Q. How would you describe Breaking the Silence?
A. Like most of my books, Breaking the Silence is part suspense, part mystery, part romance, and one hundred percent family drama. The plot is complex, with seemingly unrelated threads: a five-year-old girl who suddenly stops talking, an elderly woman who was involved in the CIA mind control experiments during the fifties, a commitment-phobic man who flies hot air balloons for a living, and a female astronomer who gradually pulls the threads of the story together.
Q. Who would enjoy reading Breaking the Silence?
A. My audience is generally made up of women of all ages, including young adults, who I believe will love the intergenerational story, the mother-daughter bond, and the romantic elements. I also have a faithful contingent of male readers, and they particular seem to enjoy Breaking the Silence because of the strong element of psychological suspense.
Q. How did you come up with the storyline for Breaking the Silence?
A. When thinking about ideas for a new book, I like to wander through the nonfiction stacks at the library to see what jumps out at me. I stumbled across a book on the CIA mind control program on one of those forays through the library and became fascinated by the devastating human stories inside. As I began reading about the toll the MK-ULTRA project took on its victims and their families, the idea for Breaking the Silence began to take shape in my mind.
While the mind control experiments gave me the idea for the book, the main focus in the novel is the relationships between the characters. I try to create characters who will have the most difficult time coping with the events in a particular story in order to increase the tension. In Breaking the Silence, I created Sarah, an elderly woman suffering from Alzheimer’s, and Emma, a little girl who doesn’t speak. They are two people at different ends of the age spectrum who have one thing in common—they can’t communicate about the secrets each of them carries.
Q. There are some heavy topics addressed in Breaking the Silence: Alzheimer’s, mutism, suicide, mind control. Can the book possibly have a happy ending?
A. Breaking the Silence ends on a realistic yet upbeat note that I think will satisfy my readers. I personally don’t care to read books that end tragically or with too much of the story left unresolved. That’s why I try to give my novels satisfying endings. Some things—Alzheimer’s, for example—are unfixable, but as long as my characters meet the challenge of handling their problems with courage and integrity, I think readers will cheer them on.
Q. What themes do you explore in Breaking the Silence?
A. One of the strongest themes in Breaking the Silence is the value of every human being, whether he or she has Alzheimer’s, is a psychiatric patient, or a five-year-old child. The destructive nature of secrets, the bond between generations as well as between mothers and daughters, and the enduring power of love are other themes explored in the story.
Q. What was the most difficult part of writing Breaking the Silence?
A. It’s always a challenge to move back and forth between the past and present when writing a novel. Three quarters of Breaking the Silence takes place in the present, but the rest of it is Sarah’s story from her days as a psychiatric nurse. When I write a book set in two diverse time periods, I often write the entire past story first so that I don’t lose the sense of time and place or the voice of the character. I wrote Sarah’s story in its entirety. Then I built the current day events around it so that the pieces of the story flow together—seamlessly, I hope.
Q. You have a background as a psychotherapist. How did that influence this story?
A. As a psychotherapist, my first concern was to “do no harm,” so it was hard to imagine psychiatric workers taking part in something as horrific as the mind control experiments. That was one reason I wanted to write the story of the past from the point of view of a nurse rather than a patient. I believe it’s clear in the book how the charismatic psychiatrist in charge was able to persuade his staff that his approaches were at the cutting edge of the field.
I was also interested in how the therapist in the story would work with Emma, especially when Emma and Sarah are brought together during a session. Emma and her selective mutism intrigued me, but my heart went out to Sarah. There’s a tendency to forget that Alzheimer’s patients have a world of memories locked deep inside them. I liked creating a character who was still able to give something to the people around her in spite of her illness.
Q. What do you enjoy most about being a novelist?
A. I love being able to touch thousands of people around the world with my stories. One of my Japanese readers emailed me to say, “You make me believe that life is beautiful even if it is also filled with pain and rage.” Her words mean so much to me, and that is the message I’d love my readers to take away with them from Breaking the Silence.
Q. How would you describe Breaking the Silence?
A. Like most of my books, Breaking the Silence is part suspense, part mystery, part romance, and one hundred percent family drama. The plot is complex, with seemingly unrelated threads: a five-year-old girl who suddenly stops talking, an elderly woman who was involved in the CIA mind control experiments during the fifties, a commitment-phobic man who flies hot air balloons for a living, and a female astronomer who gradually pulls the threads of the story together.
Q. Who would enjoy reading Breaking the Silence?
A. My audience is generally made up of women of all ages, including young adults, who I believe will love the intergenerational story, the mother-daughter bond, and the romantic elements. I also have a faithful contingent of male readers, and they particular seem to enjoy Breaking the Silence because of the strong element of psychological suspense.
Q. How did you come up with the storyline for Breaking the Silence?
A. When thinking about ideas for a new book, I like to wander through the nonfiction stacks at the library to see what jumps out at me. I stumbled across a book on the CIA mind control program on one of those forays through the library and became fascinated by the devastating human stories inside. As I began reading about the toll the MK-ULTRA project took on its victims and their families, the idea for Breaking the Silence began to take shape in my mind.
While the mind control experiments gave me the idea for the book, the main focus in the novel is the relationships between the characters. I try to create characters who will have the most difficult time coping with the events in a particular story in order to increase the tension. In Breaking the Silence, I created Sarah, an elderly woman suffering from Alzheimer’s, and Emma, a little girl who doesn’t speak. They are two people at different ends of the age spectrum who have one thing in common—they can’t communicate about the secrets each of them carries.
Q. There are some heavy topics addressed in Breaking the Silence: Alzheimer’s, mutism, suicide, mind control. Can the book possibly have a happy ending?
A. Breaking the Silence ends on a realistic yet upbeat note that I think will satisfy my readers. I personally don’t care to read books that end tragically or with too much of the story left unresolved. That’s why I try to give my novels satisfying endings. Some things—Alzheimer’s, for example—are unfixable, but as long as my characters meet the challenge of handling their problems with courage and integrity, I think readers will cheer them on.
Q. What themes do you explore in Breaking the Silence?
A. One of the strongest themes in Breaking the Silence is the value of every human being, whether he or she has Alzheimer’s, is a psychiatric patient, or a five-year-old child. The destructive nature of secrets, the bond between generations as well as between mothers and daughters, and the enduring power of love are other themes explored in the story.
Q. What was the most difficult part of writing Breaking the Silence?
A. It’s always a challenge to move back and forth between the past and present when writing a novel. Three quarters of Breaking the Silence takes place in the present, but the rest of it is Sarah’s story from her days as a psychiatric nurse. When I write a book set in two diverse time periods, I often write the entire past story first so that I don’t lose the sense of time and place or the voice of the character. I wrote Sarah’s story in its entirety. Then I built the current day events around it so that the pieces of the story flow together—seamlessly, I hope.
Q. You have a background as a psychotherapist. How did that influence this story?
A. As a psychotherapist, my first concern was to “do no harm,” so it was hard to imagine psychiatric workers taking part in something as horrific as the mind control experiments. That was one reason I wanted to write the story of the past from the point of view of a nurse rather than a patient. I believe it’s clear in the book how the charismatic psychiatrist in charge was able to persuade his staff that his approaches were at the cutting edge of the field.
I was also interested in how the therapist in the story would work with Emma, especially when Emma and Sarah are brought together during a session. Emma and her selective mutism intrigued me, but my heart went out to Sarah. There’s a tendency to forget that Alzheimer’s patients have a world of memories locked deep inside them. I liked creating a character who was still able to give something to the people around her in spite of her illness.
Q. What do you enjoy most about being a novelist?
A. I love being able to touch thousands of people around the world with my stories. One of my Japanese readers emailed me to say, “You make me believe that life is beautiful even if it is also filled with pain and rage.” Her words mean so much to me, and that is the message I’d love my readers to take away with them from Breaking the Silence.
Up, Up and . . . Down.
Over the next few posts, I’m going to share some of the research that went into the writing of my recently resissued novel, Breaking the Silence. I’ll write about the secret CIA Mind Control experiments in which my character, Sarah Tolley, was a participant, and I’ll talk about my personal experience with selective mutism, which is five-year-old Emma’s affliction.
Right now, though, I’m going to start on a lighter note as I describe my harrowing experience with hot air balloons. In Breaking the Silence, Dylan Geer makes his living as a hot air balloon pilot. Since he’s a point-of-view character, I wanted to understand what his world was like. During the time I was researching Breaking the Silence, my brother-in-law worked for a hot air balloon company, so I was able to quickly schedule a flight. The weather, though, didn’t care about my connections, and six flights were cancelled because of high winds or rain. A seventh had to be cancelled when we hit a traffic jam on the beltway around Washington DC on our way to the launch site. I was living in Northern Virginia at the time, and as those of you familiar with that area know, traffic can come to a standstill that lasts hours. And this one did. Darkness was falling by the time we gave up and headed back home.
Finally, it looked as though the eighth flight would be a go and we arrived at the launch site with time to spare. There were to be two flights that evening, and ours would be the second. My then-husband and I climbed into the chase vehicle while the first set of passengers–four senior citizens–were helped into the basket. I was excited to have the time in the chase vehicle, and I whipped out my pad and pen to take notes as we drove all over rural Maryland trying to keep the balloon in sight. The winds were misbehaving a bit. They would misbehave a bit more before the evening was over.
Part of the role of the chase crew is to find a landing site for the balloon. This was a challenge, since the balloon seemed to be flying farther and faster than anyone had anticipated. Finally, we found a field. The only building was a beautful, big farmhouse and the crew asked the owners for permission to land the balloon on their land. Then we all stood around and watched the distant dot in the sky as it grew bigger and bigger, heading smoothly for the field near the house.
Suddenly, a gust of wind grabbed hold of the balloon, lifting it abruptly into the air again and out of reach of the crew. Everyone on the ground and in the balloon started yelling and shouting (and maybe even screaming and ducking; that would be me) as the balloon headed directly for the chase vehicle. The basket bashed into the side of the van, and then the wind pulled both balloon and basket rapidly down the gravel driveway. The chase crew, my ex, and the adult family members from the farmhouse ran after the basket, trying to stop its sideways slide. The balloon itself smashed into the farmhouse, finally bringing the basket’s wild ride to a halt. Thankfully, injuries to the passengers were minor–a bloody gash on a leg and some very jangled nerves–but the balloon was not so lucky–it suffered tears that would require repair before it could fly again. I can’t say I was unhappy about that! No way was I going up that day.
But I was determined to have my flight. A few weeks later, I climbed into that same basket on a balmy evening and we rose into the air. I had one minor moment of “Ack! This is high!” before settling into the amazing sensation of sailing far above the ground. We were up there no more than ten minutes, though, when it started to sprinkle. The sprinkle turned to real, serious rain, and our pilot began searching for a place to land. In communication with the chase crew, he learned of a quarry not far from where we were flying.
When you think of landing a balloon, you think of a nice flat field, don’t you? Maybe there’d be a goat or a bull in the field, but that would be the worst of it. But a quarry? We had to land and land fast, and the quarry was our only choice. I was able to see firsthand the skill of our pilot as he maneuvered our balloon between two rock walls, dodged the jagged remnant of a dead tree trunk by–I swear–one inch, and brought the basket down with a thud on the narrow road that ran through the quarry. I will end my tale here, and only mention in passing that the gates leading out of the quarry were locked, with the balloon and basket and us on one side and the chase vehicle and crew on the other.
Dylan Geer, my commitment phobic character, has one close call with his balloon, though not quite as dramatic as what I actually witnessed. It was fun getting to write about something as light-hearted as hot air balloons in an otherwise serious story.
I hope I get to fly in a hot air balloon again, but I’m going to wait until I’m someplace where there are wide open spaces and no wind and no chance of rain. Does a place like that exist?
Right now, though, I’m going to start on a lighter note as I describe my harrowing experience with hot air balloons. In Breaking the Silence, Dylan Geer makes his living as a hot air balloon pilot. Since he’s a point-of-view character, I wanted to understand what his world was like. During the time I was researching Breaking the Silence, my brother-in-law worked for a hot air balloon company, so I was able to quickly schedule a flight. The weather, though, didn’t care about my connections, and six flights were cancelled because of high winds or rain. A seventh had to be cancelled when we hit a traffic jam on the beltway around Washington DC on our way to the launch site. I was living in Northern Virginia at the time, and as those of you familiar with that area know, traffic can come to a standstill that lasts hours. And this one did. Darkness was falling by the time we gave up and headed back home.
Finally, it looked as though the eighth flight would be a go and we arrived at the launch site with time to spare. There were to be two flights that evening, and ours would be the second. My then-husband and I climbed into the chase vehicle while the first set of passengers–four senior citizens–were helped into the basket. I was excited to have the time in the chase vehicle, and I whipped out my pad and pen to take notes as we drove all over rural Maryland trying to keep the balloon in sight. The winds were misbehaving a bit. They would misbehave a bit more before the evening was over.
Part of the role of the chase crew is to find a landing site for the balloon. This was a challenge, since the balloon seemed to be flying farther and faster than anyone had anticipated. Finally, we found a field. The only building was a beautful, big farmhouse and the crew asked the owners for permission to land the balloon on their land. Then we all stood around and watched the distant dot in the sky as it grew bigger and bigger, heading smoothly for the field near the house.
Suddenly, a gust of wind grabbed hold of the balloon, lifting it abruptly into the air again and out of reach of the crew. Everyone on the ground and in the balloon started yelling and shouting (and maybe even screaming and ducking; that would be me) as the balloon headed directly for the chase vehicle. The basket bashed into the side of the van, and then the wind pulled both balloon and basket rapidly down the gravel driveway. The chase crew, my ex, and the adult family members from the farmhouse ran after the basket, trying to stop its sideways slide. The balloon itself smashed into the farmhouse, finally bringing the basket’s wild ride to a halt. Thankfully, injuries to the passengers were minor–a bloody gash on a leg and some very jangled nerves–but the balloon was not so lucky–it suffered tears that would require repair before it could fly again. I can’t say I was unhappy about that! No way was I going up that day.
But I was determined to have my flight. A few weeks later, I climbed into that same basket on a balmy evening and we rose into the air. I had one minor moment of “Ack! This is high!” before settling into the amazing sensation of sailing far above the ground. We were up there no more than ten minutes, though, when it started to sprinkle. The sprinkle turned to real, serious rain, and our pilot began searching for a place to land. In communication with the chase crew, he learned of a quarry not far from where we were flying.
When you think of landing a balloon, you think of a nice flat field, don’t you? Maybe there’d be a goat or a bull in the field, but that would be the worst of it. But a quarry? We had to land and land fast, and the quarry was our only choice. I was able to see firsthand the skill of our pilot as he maneuvered our balloon between two rock walls, dodged the jagged remnant of a dead tree trunk by–I swear–one inch, and brought the basket down with a thud on the narrow road that ran through the quarry. I will end my tale here, and only mention in passing that the gates leading out of the quarry were locked, with the balloon and basket and us on one side and the chase vehicle and crew on the other.
Dylan Geer, my commitment phobic character, has one close call with his balloon, though not quite as dramatic as what I actually witnessed. It was fun getting to write about something as light-hearted as hot air balloons in an otherwise serious story.
I hope I get to fly in a hot air balloon again, but I’m going to wait until I’m someplace where there are wide open spaces and no wind and no chance of rain. Does a place like that exist?
Brainwashed
One of my favorite ways of coming up with book ideas is to stroll through the stacks at the library and see what books jump out at me. Years ago, a book that caught my eye was Gordon Thomas’s Journey into Madness. As a former therapist, how could I resist pulling that book from the stacks? When I did, I saw the subtitle: The CIA Mind Control Experiments. Intrigued, I sat down in a corner of the library and began reading. I had a vague knowledge of the mind control experiments, but the book put a human face to a shocking chapter in US history.
During the cold war, the US government was concerned that our enemies were perfecting mind control techniques which could be used against our military. As a result, the CIA developed a covert program, MK-ULTRA, to devise similar techniques. Every experiment needs guinea pigs, and in this case unwitting psychiatric patients, primarily at Allan Memorial Institute in Canada, became those involuntary subjects. They were subjected to various brainwashing techniques, including something called psychic driving in which the patients, in drug-induced comas, were forced to listen around the clock to tapes designed to wipe out their personalities so that new thoughts and memories could be inserted in their place. Many, if not most, of the records related to the program were destroyed prior to the investigation of MK-ULTRA by the Senate Intelligence Committee in the seventies.
I knew I wanted to write about the experiments, but I didn’t want them to overshadow the rest of the story. So, it becomes the backstory of one of the characters, Sarah, an elderly woman with Alzheimer’s disease. I was also curious to understand how the staff at the psychiatric hospital could follow the lead of the barbaric physician in charge. That’s why, instead of making Sarah a patient, I made her a nurse so I could explore her reasons for taking part in the experiments–and her mounting discomfort with them.
It’s unusual for one of my books to have such a gritty element. Yet I think the Mind Control Experiments add a suspenseful layer to an already complex story. I look forward to hearing what my readers think about it.
You can read chapter one of Breaking the Silence here: http://www.dianechamberlain.com/chamb....
Note: The link I provided for the MK-ULTRA program takes you to one woman’s story. If you want to learn more, you’ll find plenty of information by doing a search on either MK-ULTRA or CIA Mind Control Experiments.
During the cold war, the US government was concerned that our enemies were perfecting mind control techniques which could be used against our military. As a result, the CIA developed a covert program, MK-ULTRA, to devise similar techniques. Every experiment needs guinea pigs, and in this case unwitting psychiatric patients, primarily at Allan Memorial Institute in Canada, became those involuntary subjects. They were subjected to various brainwashing techniques, including something called psychic driving in which the patients, in drug-induced comas, were forced to listen around the clock to tapes designed to wipe out their personalities so that new thoughts and memories could be inserted in their place. Many, if not most, of the records related to the program were destroyed prior to the investigation of MK-ULTRA by the Senate Intelligence Committee in the seventies.
I knew I wanted to write about the experiments, but I didn’t want them to overshadow the rest of the story. So, it becomes the backstory of one of the characters, Sarah, an elderly woman with Alzheimer’s disease. I was also curious to understand how the staff at the psychiatric hospital could follow the lead of the barbaric physician in charge. That’s why, instead of making Sarah a patient, I made her a nurse so I could explore her reasons for taking part in the experiments–and her mounting discomfort with them.
It’s unusual for one of my books to have such a gritty element. Yet I think the Mind Control Experiments add a suspenseful layer to an already complex story. I look forward to hearing what my readers think about it.
You can read chapter one of Breaking the Silence here: http://www.dianechamberlain.com/chamb....
Note: The link I provided for the MK-ULTRA program takes you to one woman’s story. If you want to learn more, you’ll find plenty of information by doing a search on either MK-ULTRA or CIA Mind Control Experiments.
Shh....
Here’s something most people don’t know about me: I had selective mutism from elementary school until graduate school. What’s selective mutism? It’s an anxiety disorder in which a child or adolescent who is capable of speech doesn’t speak in certain situations. I’ll get back to my own experience in a minute, but first let me tell you how selective mutism comes into play in Breaking the Silence.
Five-year-old Emma is home with her stepfather when he kills himself, and from that day forward, she stops speaking. Her Mom, Laura, takes her to a therapist, who recommends that Laura get in touch with Emma’s biological father to see if he can play a helpful role in the little girl’s life. The problem: Emma’s conception was the result of a one-night-stand, and her father, Dylan, doesn’t know of her existence. This is only one of many, many problems in this complicated storyline.
Now back to me. The term “selective mutism” didn’t exist when I was a little kid. I was merely considered very shy. In my memory, I was always a shy, anxious child but the mutism began around the first grade. I have no idea why, nor do I believe it matters. All I know is that I stopped speaking in school and certain other situations. I spoke at home and to my friends–I was actually quite outgoing with my friends, even in a school setting. In the classroom, though, I was anxious to the point of being phobic. If called on, I would struggle to speak in class, but raise my hand? No way. I longed to be able to speak up the way my classmates did, but I felt paralyzed. Thank God I could write, and that skill helped me keep up my grades.
Here’s one of my funniest memories from my high school days as a “selective mute.”
I was with my boyfriend at a diner one night after a movie. We were laughing and loud and having a good time. At the next table was a guy who sat next to me in homeroom. He lit up a cigarette. I was a smoker in those days and asked him for a cigarette, which he gave me. Then he asked me if I had a sister who went to Plainfield High School. “There’s a girl in my homeroom who looks a lot like you,” he said. I was so shocked. He had no idea I was the same girl who sat next to him every day. It really hit home for me how totally different I was in the classroom and out.
I made it through four years of college with excellent grades, a 4.0 in my social work major, still never voluntarily uttering a word. So how did it change? When I was waiting for my first class in graduate school, I made a decision: I was going to be a high participator. I sat in the front row and kept my hand in the air and turned into a different person overnight. It was amazing! When I became a therapist myself (yes, it’s rare to find a therapist who was never a little kooky sometime in his or her own life), I discovered this behavioral approach works in many circumstances, but that’s for another blog.
Even though I had personal experience with mutism, I needed to dig into the current research to write about Emma, because her situation is very different from mine. Her mutism clearly stemmed from an event. I loved getting to explore Emma’s problem and discover how her therapist would work with her. It was rewarding for me personally to “help” Emma become a healthy little girl again. I’m glad it didn’t take her as long as it took me!
Five-year-old Emma is home with her stepfather when he kills himself, and from that day forward, she stops speaking. Her Mom, Laura, takes her to a therapist, who recommends that Laura get in touch with Emma’s biological father to see if he can play a helpful role in the little girl’s life. The problem: Emma’s conception was the result of a one-night-stand, and her father, Dylan, doesn’t know of her existence. This is only one of many, many problems in this complicated storyline.
Now back to me. The term “selective mutism” didn’t exist when I was a little kid. I was merely considered very shy. In my memory, I was always a shy, anxious child but the mutism began around the first grade. I have no idea why, nor do I believe it matters. All I know is that I stopped speaking in school and certain other situations. I spoke at home and to my friends–I was actually quite outgoing with my friends, even in a school setting. In the classroom, though, I was anxious to the point of being phobic. If called on, I would struggle to speak in class, but raise my hand? No way. I longed to be able to speak up the way my classmates did, but I felt paralyzed. Thank God I could write, and that skill helped me keep up my grades.
Here’s one of my funniest memories from my high school days as a “selective mute.”
I was with my boyfriend at a diner one night after a movie. We were laughing and loud and having a good time. At the next table was a guy who sat next to me in homeroom. He lit up a cigarette. I was a smoker in those days and asked him for a cigarette, which he gave me. Then he asked me if I had a sister who went to Plainfield High School. “There’s a girl in my homeroom who looks a lot like you,” he said. I was so shocked. He had no idea I was the same girl who sat next to him every day. It really hit home for me how totally different I was in the classroom and out.
I made it through four years of college with excellent grades, a 4.0 in my social work major, still never voluntarily uttering a word. So how did it change? When I was waiting for my first class in graduate school, I made a decision: I was going to be a high participator. I sat in the front row and kept my hand in the air and turned into a different person overnight. It was amazing! When I became a therapist myself (yes, it’s rare to find a therapist who was never a little kooky sometime in his or her own life), I discovered this behavioral approach works in many circumstances, but that’s for another blog.
Even though I had personal experience with mutism, I needed to dig into the current research to write about Emma, because her situation is very different from mine. Her mutism clearly stemmed from an event. I loved getting to explore Emma’s problem and discover how her therapist would work with her. It was rewarding for me personally to “help” Emma become a healthy little girl again. I’m glad it didn’t take her as long as it took me!
