by Lynne | Jun 24, 2013 | Uncategorized
The Road to “Deadly Provenance”
In 2004, I had an idea for a new mystery. I was always fascinated by the Holocaust and the horrors of WWII. As a museum professional, I happened upon a book called “The Lost Museum” by Hector Feliciano. It’s the story about the systematic plundering of Jewish-owned artwork by the Nazis. I was hooked. I read many books to follow, some of which you may be familiar with like “The Rape of Europa” by Lynn Nicholas.
Since my other two books are mysteries that take place in the past around real events, but are solved by modern technology, I pondered my new storyline. What about a particular piece of art that was stolen from its Jewish owner, but to this day, has never been seen again? Add to that a photograph of the said painting that comes to light 70 years later. Can the painting be authenticated by a photograph? Now I was doubly hooked.
How do I even begin the research on this book? I needed a missing painting, a backdrop for the historic story, and some state-of-the-art digital photography thrown into the mix. I started with the backdrop: France during the German occupation. The following photos will give you a glimpse into the trip that inspired my book.
Guess who? Guess where?Tour d’Eiffel, the iconic symbol of the City of Light and our first stop in Paris.
Here I am, facing the Jeu de Paume Museum with Place de la Concorde and the Eiffel Tower at my back.
Musee du Jeu de Paume, the repository for Nazi confiscated art and home of the room of martyrs. Located at north end of the Tuileries Gardens, Paris.
Palais des Papes in Avignon, Provence, France, a papal residence during the 14th century. My fictional character looks out her window at this view.
Vincent van Gogh self-portrait, oil on canvas, 65 x 54 cm, 1889, Musee d’Orsay, Paris. I’d always adored him but one look at this painting up close and I knew he was the artist I would select for my book.
“Still Life: Vase With Oleanders,” the van Gogh painting that disappeared in 1944 and is still missing.
by Lynne | Jun 17, 2013 | Uncategorized
History Keeps Unfolding
The most amazing thing just happened. My latest book, Deadly Provenance, recently went online. It’s a fictional story of the Nazi looting of art during WWII, set against the backdrop of an authentic historical drama that is still unfolding today. That’s not the amazing part.
A central “character” in the book is the ERR or Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg, the Third Reich’s bureau, if you will, tasked with confiscating the precious art of Europe from “undesirables.” It was led by Alfred Rosenberg, fanatical henchman and confidante of Hitler, who also played a major role in the extermination of millions of Jews. So why is this amazing?
The long lost diary of Rosenberg has just been recovered. 400 pages that are now at United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. The diary is hand-written (that in itself is amazing!) and spans events from spring 1936 to winter 1944. It could offer insight into many occurrences that remain unclear today. For instance, there might be details about the Nazi occupation of the Soviet Union, or such incidences as the flight of Rudolf Hess to Britain in 1941.
My personal hope is that the pages shed light on the missing art pieces. Is it possible that in addition to formal ERR records of confiscated works, that perhaps Rosenberg mentioned some of these in the diary?
Still Life: Vase with Oleanders by Vincent van Gogh is one of those missing paintings and the one I focus on in my book. Did Rosenberg happen to make note of it in his diary? When he tried to steal it from a gallery in Paris but it had already been removed for safekeeping by the owners – the Bernheim Jeune family. Did he mention that it was found again, or not, when the place of safekeeping, the Château de Rastignac near Bordeaux, was burned to the ground?
Where is the missing van Gogh?
According to Haaretz, a Jewish world newspaper, Rosenberg “. . . elicits a rare consensus among many World War II historians: the man, they say, was a pretentious fool.” Besides being a monster of the highest order. But now his diary may shed light on history, assuming words of a pretentious fool are to be believed, and that he said anything worthwhile, and did not blather on about inconsequential personal events in his life.
Which brings me back to the original premise. Does history ever stop unfolding or are there always new discoveries and uncoveries that deny or confirm the facts as we know them? Think about how your writing can reflect all the many possibilities. Alternative histories or histories true to the last detail . . . until we find out otherwise.
For now, I’m hoping to read the text of Rosenberg’s diary when it becomes public. Maybe there are clues within it to help me hunt down that van Gogh.
Oh. Did I mention I was going to do that?
by Lynne | Jun 10, 2013 | Uncategorized
How Music Can Give Voice to Your Characters
As I write this, I’m listening to Antonio Vivaldi’s Violin Concerto for Violin, Strings and Continuo. I have a hard time writing to music with lyrics – the words tend to wind up on my page — so I opt for background music, usually classical.
Music is a terrific way to bring your characters to life. Let’s take a peek at a fictional guy, Ray Salvo. He’s eighty-five, fought in two wars, a widower with four kids, nine grandkids and two great grandkids.
Ray’s at home now, a small craftsman in southern California, dusty, threadbare, mostly because he can’t see well enough to care. He’s alone, as he often is. How can we paint a more vivid picture of Ray? Use music.
He rises stiffly from his old recliner, ambles to the record player, an old Kenwood turntable, and his large assortment of record albums. His kids want to get him a CD player, his grandkids, an iPod. He’ll stick with vinyl. As he sorts through his albums, memories blow in and out of his mind. Is he thinking of his dead wife? Good place for a flashback.
The albums are sorted by date, decade, actually. The 30 and 40s, when Ray was a kid, he was one of the lucky ones to have a radio. The sweet sounds of Benny Goodman and Tommy Dorsey. Maybe Ray’s picturing his old family home in his mind?
The 50s. Elvis and Buddy Holly. The Isley Brothers, twistin’ and shoutin’. Ray picks up a photograph of his wife – ahh, she could dance the lindy.
The 70s brought the Disco craze: Bee Gees, Gloria Gaynor and the Village People. Ray gives a few hip lurches as he hums “Y.M.C.A.” Ouch. He remembers watching Saturday Night Fever with his kids.
He flips some more. Classical albums: Ravel’s “Bolero,” hmmm. “Scherezade,” Rimsky-Korsakoff. Mozart, not his favorite, actually. He loves the Russian composers better. But classical is not the choice for today. Too maudlin. Good opportunity for description here. Maybe Ray’s worried about his finances, his son’s cancer?
He smiles when he gets to some newer recordings stacked on a side table — CDs that his grandkids have given him, in hopes he’ll upgrade from his turntable. He reads a jewel case label: “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons. Or is it “Imagine Dragons” by Radioactive? Achh. Now he really feels old.
Which record will it be? This is the defining moment for the character. Is he locked in the nostalgic 40s? 50’s? What does he want to listen to? What is he thinking about, what is his mood?
Ray flips back to earlier albums and after a few seconds finds exactly what he’s looking for. Not swing or jazz or blues. His fingers grasp the music he loves best. Classic Rock. The Rolling Stones. Yea. Now, he can get some satisfaction. So can you. You have a better handle on this character, just through his music.
by Lynne | Jun 3, 2013 | Uncategorized
Experiences That Make You a Better Writer
It was three in the morning. A slight tremor shook the windows. The doors began to rattle in their frames. The bed seemed to move. Now the windows were banging against the shutters and a strange howling sounded in the air.
Mt. Vesuvius from hotel balcony.
I leaped up and ran to the French doors of our room at the Hotel Tramontano in Sorrento, Italy. I knew what was happening. Mt. Vesuvius was erupting, just as it did in 79 AD, when it brought Pompeii and Herculaneum to its knees. What a story!
I threw open the doors and peered through a curtain of mist, across the Bay of Naples to the majestic volcano. Nothing. Not a wisp of smoke nor a glow of lava trails. I was peculiarly disappointed.
My husband stepped outside to join me on the veranda. He had just called the front desk. “Just a strong wind.” Combined with old windows and doors and perhaps my sub-conscious wish to be Pliny the Younger and witness the infamous eruption. Nothing. Bummer.
Earlier this same day we had traveled by train from Naples and my husband had been pickpocketed. Now, of course, Naples is the pickpocket capital of the world. But how could that happen to us? It only happens to others. Well, we lost our credit cards and cash (fortunately, not our passports,) and spent hours on the phone with Visa when we arrived. Nice folks.
Not an auspicious start to a holiday in Italy. Maybe that was it. Instead of a mystery, I’d write a travel book: Misadventures in Italy. Uh uh. Stick to mysteries. How about an artifact newly discovered, buried under layers of excavation in Pompeii. A humerus bone that was only two hundred years old. How could it possibly be buried here along with remains almost 2,000 years old? Whose bone was it? A female, young, small, delicate with a knife wound slicing across the bone? Maybe a swath of fabric is found near the bone. How old could the material be? What about a tool or a bowl or utensil nearby?
Clues. Ahhh. More, more.
Cast of body in Pompeii.
And what about Pliny, the Younger and Pliny the Elder? The life and times of Pompeiins, Napolitanos, Herculaneum— uh, ers, ites? People from Herculaneum. What a backdrop for a historical mystery. And forensics can help resolve the bone, fabric, bowl conundrum. (Maybe the forensics expert was pickpocketed on his way to the crime scene?)
Whether I write a mystery about Pompeii or not, the point is, so many of our experiences can be evolved into a full-fledged story with characters, events, descriptions, and rich background. Those incidents in our lives that are memorable are often traumatic when we live through them. Find the humor and spin them into a grand story.
I can laugh at the faux volcanic eruption of Vesuvius now. Trust me, it wasn’t funny at the time.
