Q&A with Terri Lewis

  

 

 

Terri Lewis is the author of the new novel When They Came Home. It is based on the lives of her grandparents. She also has written the novel Behold the Bird in Flight. She lives in Denver, Colorado. 

 

Q: Why did you decide to write this novel based on the lives of your grandparents?

 

A: As a kid, I loved to visit my grandparents, Edith and Milton, in tiny Enterprise, Kansas. Edith was a loving housewife, a dispenser of hugs and cookies and life advice; she watched the afternoon soaps. Milton was quiet, like to walk, and to take us grandkids downtown (all three blocks) to show us off; I don’t remember ever hearing a word about his service in WWI.

 

The decision to write the novel came when I was long grown: my mother handed me a battered candy box, saying, “You write. There’s a good story in here.” Inside I found a pile of official documents, handwritten journals, a postcard, a lawyer’s letter, and a clutch of black-and-white photos, all concerning my grandparents.

 

I was shocked by the story they told: mental breakdown, a struggle to find healing, and the ongoing denials of his pension which left the family destitute. Love and my grandmother’s determination, including a successful suit against the government, saved the family.

 

I began thinking about how the stories of battles and soldiers were often a source of novels, but the struggles of wives and families when the soldiers returned are seldom told. So I wrote the novel to give my grandmother’s determination and bravery a voice, and to honor them both.

 

Q: How did you research the book, and did you learn anything that especially surprised you?

 

A: I started by reading about WWI which saw the first tanks, the first airplanes—the pilot shot from the cockpit with a pistol or rifle. I looked into the battle of Argonne where my grandfather fought and found the horror of trench warfare: mustard gas and mud and endless waiting under bombardment by bombs identified by sound and given names like Whizz-bangs and Big Berthas.

 

I delved into shell shock, newly described during WWI and at first considered a sign of cowardice, of shirking. With no understanding of its treatment, doctors prescribed everything from hydrotherapy to electric shock, and men were told not to talk of the war so as not to bring up distressing thoughts, the exact opposite of how PTSD is treated today.

 

On the personal side, the candy box material lacked details about the family’s daily life while my grandfather was ill. My mother and her sister were still alive, so I recorded an interview with them. They were best friends, talking every day on the phone, and the tape is full of laughter and memories. Many details in the novel, such as the couple driving the eggs to market and the stolen dolls, came from that interview.

 

The biggest surprise was that the family didn’t always live in Enterprise. They followed my grandfather from treatment to treatment through not only Kansas, but also Iowa and Missouri; my mother and aunt spent many summers with relatives so Edith could concentrate on supporting Milton during his various treatments.

 

Q: How would you describe the relationship between Edith and Milton?

 

A: It was loving and affectionate, but even as a child, I recognized Edith as the driving force in the family. My mother once said she was sorry that when her father finally came home, she hadn’t been kinder, more welcoming to him, but he’d been away so long, that she naturally looked to her mother for guidance. She also said they’d decided never to tell of Milton’s illness so the grandkids wouldn’t be afraid of him.

 

Without knowing the whole story, I couldn’t understand the depth of my grandparents’ love, how she fought for him, took care of him, protected him. Those early struggles were so well contained that for me, at least, no whiff of trauma was ever evident. If you read memoirs or advice columnists, that kind of abiding love and healing is rare.

 

Q: The Kirkus Review of the novel called it a “lean, powerful novel about war's psychological aftermath.” What do you think of that description?

 

A: Oh my goodness, I love that. I wanted readers to consider the “aftermath” of war. Soldiers can bring home horrendous experiences that reverberate through their family; those experiences are seldom told.

 

I also worked very hard to condense the language and develop a voice that would let the reader inside the family’s life. The Kirkus reviewer got it.

 

Q: What are you working on now?

 

A: Before I was a writer, I was a professional ballerina, and I have written a novel set in the world of dance that’s coming out in March 2027.

 

It tells the story of two dancers, friends and rivals, who get pregnant, one before Roe and one after. Their choices affect their friendship, careers and life paths. I loved reinhabiting my dancing days, remembering the feeling of class and rehearsal and the joys of performing.

 

Q: Anything else we should know?

 

A: I often talk with my friends who write historical fiction about the difference between the truth and accuracy. That is, facts are important, but sometimes to get at the truth of a character or a feeling, or even an entire life, the facts need to be tweaked.

 

Fact: My grandfather eventually healed enough to function in the world and lived to see his grandchildren grow and thrive.

 

Truth: he lived a constricted life, unable to go into crowds or to explore the world and that’s the reason the novella ends as it does.

 

--Interview with Deborah Kalb. Here's a previous Q&A with Terri Lewis.