Behind the Scenes

Many years ago I helped to produce an Independent Feature titled, The Secret by MDR Films, Inc. It was a lovely story about a dysfunctional Ukrainian American family in Chicago. One of my favorite parts of the film was the way that it captured the setting of Chicago’s Ukrainian Village.

I think I took the beauty of its gardens and architecture for granted when I was a girl going to Ukrainian school on Saturdays or dance practice during the week. I didn’t really see that there was something special in the way that the Ukrainian people of my grandparents’ generation worked to maintain their neat gardens and community atmosphere.

After having lived in Europe, I see now how European it is in many ways, with its neighborhood markets and bakery, the shops and bookstores. The Ukrainian American community sought to recreate some of what they had to leave behind, and this melded with the opportunities that only America could offer.

The Secret successfully gives the audience a glimpse into that sense of place, especially in the opening sequence of the film. I like knowing that the Ukranian Village will be forever preserved in that little montage.

Often when we go to the movies (or watch them at home), we give little thought to what went on behind the scenes to make that film a reality. For me, it was fascinating to see all that went on and to be a part of it–from the writing of the screenplay and raising of funds, to casting and location scouting, to rehearsals and filming, and so much more in between.

I would imagine that for those who are not writers, it’s a similar experience when reading a book. Little thought is given to the process by which that book made it to the shelves: researching, writing, revising, querying, collecting rejections, revising, querying, collecting more rejections, revising, submitting, revising, and so on. While it doesn’t usually involve as many people as a film production, it can be as lengthy a process, if not more so. Books can take years to write and publish. Writing a book, fiction specifically, is also a lot more solitary that making a movie. Usually it’s the writer alone with her computer in her favorite writing location: office/bedroom/bathroom/kitchen/beloved coffeeshop.

This Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest is fascinating for many reasons, one of which is the many diverse communities that are popping up. There are the communities surrounding each novel entry, the community of ABNA and Amazon reviewers, and the many subsets of writers’ communities popping up on the Discussion Boards.

Writers are supporting each other, writing reviews for one another, sharing tips about marketing, commiserating on critical reviews. For the few months that this Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award in going on, many writers have slipped out of their shells (albeit virtually on the internet), and have connected with others of their quirky, idiosyncratic, and often introverted kind.

It will be interesting to see how the rest of this contest plays out and what happens after it’s over. Will the solitary writers crawl back into their dark corners to do what they do, or will some remnants of these communities remain?

Storytelling/Fortunetelling

I have long been fascinated with the Tarot, not just as an oracle but also as a storytelling device. In her book The Tarot: History, Mystery, and Lore, Cynthia Giles writes:

“Fortune/telling brings the art of the story into a personal and particular context. In our own society today, fortune/telling serves much the same purpose it has long served in traditional cultures, offering a chance for dialogue, for sharing, for objectification, for hope and drama and revelation. As a way of telling our fortune, Tarot reading offers the opportunity to cultivate our natural narrative abilities and endow them with deeper resonances and broader meanings.”

As many of you have read in my ABNA excerpt, The Silence of Trees, Nadya goes to a voroshka to have her fortune told. The excerpt cuts off just before the Gypsy woman does Nadya’s reading. The voroshka uses a ten-card spread, and those ten cards become the ten chapters of my novel. The first card is The Lovers, which is the title of the opening chapter, and so on.

The ten cards in the spread are: The Lovers, Queen of Swords, The Star, The Emperor, Page of Clubs, The Devil, Seven of Cups, The Sun, The Falling Tower, Ten of Coins. (There is a visual representation on my Web site here).

The cards are not prescriptive for their corresponding chapters, rather they foreshadow the essence, or spirit, of each chapter. Exactly how is left for readers to discover and interpret if they wish.

Leaving Home

I remember the first time that I sat in a Starbucks in Frankfurt, Germany, I felt such a strange sense of disconnect. I was pregnant with my first child, and the Starbucks was a familiar refuge—one of the few non-smoking cafes available at the time. I sat reading amidst a hum of German voices, and I was struck by the fact that 50-years earlier, my grandparents had been in nearly the same spot, but in a completely different situation. My grandparents had been forced laborers during the WWII, taken from Ukraine to work as Ostarbeiter in Germany.

With the assistance of American Military aid, the Soviet army drove the Germans out of Ukraine near the end of the war. When the war came to a close, Ukraine stood in ruins. “No single country,” wrote journalist Edgar Snow, “suffered deeper wounds to its cities, its industries and its humanity.”

Whenever I felt lonely or overwhelmed in a situation where I didn’t know the language, I thought of my grandmothers. I left my home by choice, seeking opportunity and adventure. My husband and I tried new restaurants and took walks in the park. We eagerly planned trips traveling around Europe, even after our daughter was born. It was a slower lifestyle than in America, one that allowed for us to have more “family-time” with our baby.

My grandparents left home by force, ripped away from all that they loved. They lived through a war not knowing if their families were alive or dead. They never had the luxury to sit in a café and feel sorry for themselves because someone slammed a door in their face. It put my woes in perspective to think of their incredible strength and perseverance. I come from a strong line of women, and I felt close to them during those days, especially carrying my own daughter inside.

My husband and I knew that after two years, we would be returning to our loved ones in Chicago. We knew that they were only a phone call or an e-mail away. My grandparents felt as if they had no choice but to remain the Displaced Persons camps until they could immigrate elsewhere, possibly closing the doors on their past forever.

In 1948, the United States Congress passed the Displaced Persons Act that enabled Ukrainian refugees in Europe to immigrate to the United States. The economic and political persecution that awaited them in the Soviet Union after World War II left many Ukrainians with little choice but to immigrate from Stalin’s oppression in order to search out the “American Dream.”

Both sets of my grandparents chose to immigrate to America. In Frankfurt, I met some of the Ukrainians who chose to remain in Germany after the war. Just like my grandparents, they hold fast to their Ukrainian traditions, their cultural and religious connections. I have tried to put myself in their shoes, to think about what I would have done in that situation. Would I have returned to Ukraine? Would I have remained in Germany? Would I have had moved to a new continent, an unfamiliar country to seek a better life?

I know that people face dire consequences today that put them in precisely this position, and I thought of them as well when writing The Silence of Trees. How do you leave the past behind? Is there a way to reconcile the Old World and the New? What happens when the past resurfaces? What must you sacrifice? What will you gain?

With my novel, I have tried to honor those strong women who have given up everything in search of a”better” life. I have tried to give voice to those who have been silenced by history, war, and injustice. I hope that my inclusion in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Semifinals allows even more people to hear their voices.