In case you missed this...

 

First, I want to apologize for being so quiet. I feel like I start each newsletter this way, but in truth, I feel bad for not staying in touch better. Like everyone, though, there are only so many hours in my day.

 

Two years ago, I was whipping out books, one every three months, and never stopped to wonder how I could accomplish such a thing. However, as I’ve grown more in love with the Historical Fiction books I write, I have come to learn that the research takes almost just as much time as it does to write the words.

 

I’m completely invested in each book I write, even down to the shade of grass growing between the spring and winter months in a small town area of Western Germany. If I can’t see each detail for myself, the work feels unfinished. I might be a little obsessive with this, but I love the finishing touches. It’s my art.

 

The reason for my explanation is that I’ve noticeably slowed down with my release rate, but not because I’m tired or worn out from writing; it’s due to my desire to improve the quality of each book. My biggest fear is hitting a writing peak, and I don’t want to feel that way.

 

Thankfully, you’ll soon be able to see what I’ve been working on. I finally get to release The Bookseller of Dachau next Friday [October 29]. This will be my first book with a traditional publisher, and I couldn’t be happier with the experience I’ve had so far.  

 

I’ve received a few questions from readers, asking about my inspiration for this book, so I figured I’d share a bit of here before you dig in. Last Words was truly a work created from my emotional grief of coming to terms with what my grandmother and great-grandmother survived during World War II. This book is a little different, though still derived from similar feelings. My grandmother and great-grandmother were the only two survivors on my dad’s side of the family, which means our family tree is very bare of the information the few of us wish to have more of. I’ve spent countless hours researching, trying to connect dots, records, handwritten papers, and I’ve made a little headway, but not enough to give up. The frustration got me thinking about the “what ifs.” My grandmother had a younger brother, Hanus, and though he survived about a year after they were separated, he unfortunately died from starvation just a week before turning seventeen, which was right at the end of the war. I have the same feelings of wonder for my great-grandfather—he was sent him to a gas chamber at Auschwitz in 1945. The big question of: what else don’t I know? It keeps me up at night. I crave the information, but whether I will find out more is to be determined, I guess.

I know I’m not the only one who wonders about lost family, so I wanted to pay tribute to those who were separated during World War II and show how far someone will go to reconnect the pieces of a past they know nothing about. The missing stories a lot of us yearn for aren’t always for the faint of heart, and that’s what happened in The Bookseller of Dachau.

 

The book shows the growth of a young American woman who wants to reconnect her family’s missing pieces. Through fate, she stumbles across a mirroring story of her unknown grandmother, who witnessed the unimaginable in Germany during World War II and fought to accomplish something that wouldn’t find an end for many years to come.

 

I still hope to find more of my family’s missing pieces, but this story gave me hope that I will when the time is right.

 

I love hearing from you with similar stories. I’m fascinated by our (not so distant) history, and I always feel so enlightened when I hear how many people go day-to-day wishing they knew more about the previous generation that’s sadly disappearing from our world.

We need to keep their stories alive, and that’s what I intend to keep doing.

 

Thank you all for continuously supporting my journey, and I can’t wait for you all to read

The Bookseller of Dachau.