Heidi Diehl is the author of the new novel Lifelines. Her work has appeared in a variety of publications, including Colorado Review and Crazyhorse. She lives in Brooklyn.
Q:
How did you come up with the idea for Lifelines, and for your character Louise?
A:
Initially, I wanted to write about a time and place that fascinated me: 1970s
West Germany, a time of huge social change. The decades immediately after World
War II were marked by Germany’s collective silence about its crimes in the
Holocaust; as the postwar generation came of age in the ‘60s and ‘70s, young
people demanded public reckoning and remorse.
I
was interested in personal experiences of this public shift, and I was particularly
inspired by the intersection of art and politics in the early ‘70s—the ways
that, for young German artists and musicians, creative experimentation
intertwined with the broader cultural changes. This time period struck me as
exciting, but also emotionally challenging and psychologically complex—rich
material for a novel and its characters.
Louise
is the novel’s protagonist, and her character developed slowly, as I explored
both her creative work and her personal history. Her vantage point, as an
American in Germany, offered an outsider’s lens. The book also includes
chapters told from the perspectives of four other characters; I wanted the
other central characters, including a German one, to weigh in, too. As both a
reader and a writer, I love the prismatic quality of multiple perspectives in a
work of fiction.
Q:
The novel takes place in the early 1970s and in 2008. Did you write the
chapters in the order in which they appear, or did you focus on one time period
first and move things around later?
A:
I knew from the beginning that Lifelines would be a nonlinear story, and I
envisioned the structure as a conversation between the past and present
chapters. I tend to work on things out of order—my mind jumps around during the
drafting process, whether I’m writing something short-form or long-form.
With
this book, I found myself working on a nonlinear structure in a nonlinear way,
which was creatively generative and also sometimes maddening. I kept an outline
going as I wrote, just to keep track of what was happening in the various time
periods. When I was revising, though, I usually did focus on one period for
weeks at a time, to get into the language and details of the time and place, and
into the headspace of the character.
Q:
How was the novel's title chosen, and what does it signify for you?
A:
The novel originally had another title, but it was clunky and hard to
understand without reading the book first, so my editor wisely suggested we
change it.
In
searching for a new title, I went back to some of the source material that had initially
inspired my thinking about the book—the art and music from West Germany and the
U.S. in the 1970s. I spent a Sunday afternoon poring over books, and when I was
leaving for work on Monday morning, I remembered that I’d pulled a Mary
Heilmann book from the shelf, but hadn’t looked at it.
While
drafting, I’d been compelled by Heilmann’s abstract paintings and their intense
use of color, as well as her personal history as a painter on the West Coast. With
my coat on, clutching my keys, I leafed through to Heilmann’s painting "Lifeline."
That felt serendipitous. Lines have so much resonance in the novel.
Louise’s
second husband, Richard, is an urban planner who studies desire lines, the
informal paths people create as alternatives to the official paved way, like a
dirt trail that cuts across a park’s lawn. Desire lines are a central image for
the book’s characters and the ways they follow their passions and sometimes
stumble through life’s complications, forging their own paths.
And
Louise has spent decades working on an ongoing sculpture that uses wooden tiles
to trace a line through grass; she is continually adding to the line as the
wood pieces erode over time. So "Lifelines" felt like the perfect title.
Q:
What do you hope readers take away from the book?
A:
To me, Lifelines is so much about the ways that we wrestle with difficult
histories and circumstances, both public and personal. For the book’s
characters, creative expression is central to that search for understanding and
agency.
Through
the course of writing and editing this book, the political landscape in the U.S.
changed—the 2016 election and its aftermath, the alarming ways that hateful
rhetoric and policies have claimed a louder voice in our government.
I’ve
continued to be inspired by the research I did while writing Lifelines, by the
ways that the German postwar generation used creative means to respond to
problematic politics and advocate for change. So I hope that readers find that
the book is pertinent to our current moment, even though it’s essentially a
historical novel, and perhaps find some inspiration, too.
Q:
What are you working on now?
A:
I’m working on a new novel about a coastal community dealing with the impact of
sea-level rise; it’s set entirely in contemporary time, covering a much shorter
span of time than Lifelines.
And
though this book’s structure feels different from the structure of Lifelines
(at least at this early stage of drafting!) I’m finding that some of the same
fascinations are coming up—the complicated bonds in families, and the ways we
measure and feel the passage of time. If Lifelines was about grappling with the
past, this new project seems to be about grappling with the future.
Q:
Anything else we should know?
A:
Thanks to you, Deborah, and to readers! My website includes a
discussion guide with questions for book groups, as well as more information
about Lifelines.
--Interview with Deborah Kalb
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