|Me with my little sister |
4 months after the end of World War II
These words from my novel are right out of my life experience. I was eleven years old in 1945 and had spent most of the years I could remember deep in "the war effort." I was a Junior Commando, collected newspaper and scrap metal, saved my allowances to buy War Bonds- later Victory bonds. I celebrated the day the war ended with my cousins parading around the block and banging on pots and pans, yelling with excitement over the good news.
The characters in my novel were celebrating, too, until word came that Josh Connors, U.S. Navy, was one of the last casualties of the war. The joy that should have filled all hearts was quickly swallowed up in sorrow.
Plans for a joyous future can evaporate so quickly. So much of our lives is not under our control.
Writing fiction is a way for me to exert control over at least the world I create in my imagination.
What life circumstances have led you to where you are today?