LibraryThing is pleased to present our interview with author Joyce Maynard, whose bestselling 1998 memoir, At Home in the World—a subject of controversy in some quarters due to its exposé of the author’s brief relationship with the reclusive J.D. Salinger—has been translated into sixteen languages. An earlier memoir, the 1973 Looking Back: A Chronicle of Growing Up Old in the Sixties, was Maynard’s book debut. She would go on to pen three other works of nonfiction and twelve novels. Two of her novels, To Die For (1992) and Labor Day (2009) have been made into films—the 1995 To Die For starring Nicole Kidman, and the 2013 Labor Day starring Josh Brolin and Kate Winslett. From 1984 to 1990, Maynard was also the author of the syndicated column Domestic Affairs, and she has contributed articles and reviews to numerous publications. Her 2021 novel, Count the Ways, described by Joyce Carol Oates as a “fearlessly candid, heartrendingly forthright examination of the joys and terrors of family life,” won the Grand Prix de Littérature Américaine (American Literature Grand Prize). How the Light Gets In, Maynard’s thirteenth novel, and the sequel to Count the Ways, is due out from William Morrow later on this month. She sat down with Abigail to answer some questions about her new book.

How the Light Gets In is a departure for you, in that it is the first sequel you have written and published. Did you always mean to write two books about your main character and her family, or did you find, upon finishing Count the Ways, that there was more to tell? Does writing a sequel differ from writing a stand-alone novel, and was there anything particularly challenging or enjoyable about it?

When I wrote Count the Ways, I never envisioned it as the first of two novels. I imagined, when I reached the last page of that novel, that I would have to say goodbye to the characters in that story. (This is always hard, by the way. My characters become so real to me, over the course of writing a novel, that when I reach the end, I miss them. Even the problematic ones.)

But after Count the Ways was published, I heard from so many readers who wanted to know what happened next. Many expressed concern—even anger—that the main character of Count the Ways, Eleanor, seemed to have spent her entire adult life sacrificing herself for everyone else and putting her own needs last. They wanted to know: When did it get to be Eleanor’s turn?

I thought long and hard about this. As a woman–exactly the same age as Eleanor, and one who has grappled with that same question—I wanted to see Eleanor reach a new stage in her life, as I have in mine, where she is finally able to ask the question “What do I want… for my own life?” And she is finally able to let go of feeling that her role in life is to look after everyone else.

I spent a whole year just thinking about what kind of next chapters I wanted to give to Eleanor. I didn’t begin to write How the Light Gets In until I had a clear sense of what would make a satisfying resolution for this woman I had come to know so well. Almost as well as I know myself.

Of course she encounters many challenges in the new novel. Some very grave. But her perspective has changed with the passage of time. She’s not trying to fix everybody’s problems any more. She knows she can’t do that. She’s made her peace with imperfection. That’s why I gave this new novel the title I did. It comes from a song by Leonard Cohen, with the line, “There is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”

This new story is about learning to embrace the messy, difficult, sometimes painful cracks in our lives. And finding beauty in them.

As for the challenges of writing a sequel: I wanted to make sure, as I wrote this book, that a reader would not have to have read Count the Ways to read and appreciate this one. (Of course I recommend that a reader begin with the earlier novel. But it’s definitely not a prerequisite for understanding this one.)

What was challenging: Keeping track of all those different characters—the members of Eleanor’s family, and others—over the passage of time. But I loved that too. I got to spend more time with some characters I love, chief among them Toby, Eleanor’s youngest son, brain injured at age 5. He’s in his late thirties when the new novel opens, and grows into his forties. I love Toby so much. I wanted good things for him. I wanted him to find love. It wasn’t easy, imagining where that might come from.

Between the two books, you cover some fifty years in the life of one family—a life played out against the backdrop of public events. In How the Light Gets In this includes climate change, the Covid-19 pandemic and the events of January 6th. What connection, if any, do these events have to the lives of your characters? Are they simply the backdrop against which more personal crises unfold, an influence on your characters and their choices, or perhaps some kind of parallel to individual experience?

To me, there was no way to write about the years from 2010 to 2024 without making reference to what was going on in our country at the time. I could no more set a novel in the Trump years—and their aftermath—than I could set a novel in France or Germany in the late 1930’s and early 40’s and not mention World War 2.

I write about relationships, families, what happens in kitchens and living rooms and bedrooms—and at the edge of a waterfall, or a small town bowling alley, or in a school where kids learn to be fearful that a kid with an AK 15 might walk into their classroom. In my mind, there is no way to separate what happens in those places, from what’s going on in our country and the world. I’m not getting on a soapbox when I write, offering my political opinions. I’m trying to portray life in the United States of America as ordinary people live it.

Your book has been described as a family saga, one that addresses “the new American family.” What does this mean to you? What distinguishes the new American family from the old, and what does your story say about the role of family in our lives?

When I was growing up—in a household of many secrets and troubles as well as much creative inspiration—I took my definition of “a happy family” from what I saw on television. Mother/ father, kids. Nobody worried about a father getting drunk, or the mother suffering from depression, or one of the kids addicted to drugs. No divorce. No money problems. No struggles with gender identity.

I carried that picture into my own adult life. When I was divorced from my children’s father, at age 35, I was viewed, the term for where I lived with my children was “a broken home.” At the time my marriage ended, I was supporting our family writing a syndicated newspaper column about raising children, being a parent. Almost half the newspapers who had been running that column chose to drop it, once I announced the divorce. “Joyce Maynard is no longer qualified to write about family life,” one editor at a major newspaper wrote to my newspaper syndicate.

Over the years, my definition of “family” has evolved considerably. So has our national perception, I think. A family can be two women, or two men, or a single parent and her children. Sometimes we make our own families, that have nothing to do with blood connection.

I still know myself to be a person who cares deeply and passionately about “family”. But I know now, there is no one picture of what constitutes a family. And more than one way to be part of “a happy family”. And no such thing as a perfectly happy family, either. What I strive for these days is to accept my flaws and failures, as I do those of others around me. Being part of a family requires compassion and forgiveness. Not perfection.

You have written two memoirs over the course of your career, and have spent time reflecting on the events of your own life. Did your personal life story provide any inspiration when writing about Eleanor and her family?

I want to make this very plain: Eleanor is not me. She’s a fictional character. But I’d be lying if I pretended that her story wasn’t hugely informed by my own experiences of parenthood, love, loss, divorce, and its aftermath. I’ve also been the beneficiary of a huge gift over the years, which has come from nearly thirty years I’ve spent hosting memoir workshops for women.

Hundreds of women—well over a thousand, in fact—have trusted me with their most intimate and often painful stories, over the years. Those are private. I don’t divulge what women tell me in my memoir workshops, unless they specifically grant me the right to do so. But I have learned as much about women’s lives in those workshops as the women have learned, about writing. I carry the stories of those women with me every day of my life. They are always with me when I write.

The figure of the mother is central to both of these books, even when she is missing from the family circle, or estranged from her children. What does your story have to say about the role of the mother? What does a mother owe to her children, and what does she owe to herself?

There’s a chapter in How the Light Gets In called “The Definition of a Good Mother”, in which Eleanor strives to answer the question, “what is a good mother?” And tackles the impossibility of ever being good enough. (In case you want to take a look, it’s on page 259 of my book. I’m pretty sure that when I travel around the country, giving readings and talking about this new novel of mine, I’ll read a few paragraphs from that chapter.)

I could say so much about this question, of what a mother owes her children, and what she owes herself. In many ways, I think this entire novel stands as my attempt to answer those two questions. What I’ll say here, to keep it simple, is that there may be no greater gift a mother can give her children than the model of a woman who—along with providing them loving care, nurturing and attention—also values and respects and cares for herself.

When a mother fails to do those things—when she sacrifices everything for her children—sooner or later she finds herself in Crazyland. (Read Count the Ways and How the Light Gets In and you’ll understand what I mean).

Tell us about your library. What’s on your own shelves?

Plenty of fiction of course. But also: Art books. Poetry. Children’s books. Books of classic photography. Books about US history. And my collection of the Sears Christmas Catalogue from around 1960 to 1969. Among other things…

What have you been reading lately, and what would you recommend to other readers?

In honor of Alice Munro, a writer I revered—and one whose work always instructs me—I am trying to reread as many of her short stories as I can this summer. (Last summer I did the same with the short stories of Raymond Carver and Andre Dubus II.)

LibraryThing is pleased to sit down this month with author Eileen Garvin, whose 2021 novel, The Music of the Bees, was a national bestseller, receiving accolades from the Christian Science Monitor, People Magazine, LibraryReads, IndieNext, and many more. Garvin made her debut in 2010 with her memoir, How to Be a Sister: A Love Story with a Twist of Autism, and her essays have been published in The Oregonian, PsychologyToday.com, and Creative Non-Fiction Magazine, and featured on the Mom’s Don’t Have Time to Read Books podcast. Her second novel, Crow Talk, which addresses themes of friendship, hope and healing, all while set in the beauty of the Pacific Northwest, was published by Dutton at the end of April.

The natural world plays an important role in Crow Talk, which features three people who have withdrawn to a rural retreat in order to nurse their wounds. What role does nature play in your story, and why did you choose the specific setting you did?

In Crow Talk, nature is meant to be a healing source for my three main characters—Frankie, Anne, and Aiden. I chose to set the story at June Lake—a fictional place—because I’ve always personally drawn solace from the natural world. When I was a child, our family lake cabin was a place of respite for all of us. As an adult I continue to be comforted and energized by woods, water, mountains, and trails. I believe nature is a powerful force.

How did the idea for your story come to you? You’re an amateur beekeeper, which must in some way have influenced the story you told in The Music of the Bees. Do you have a similar connection to crows, or to other corvine species?

Yes, my own beekeeping helped me write The Music of the Bees. While writing the book, I knew early on that my characters would get to know each other through beekeeping. I completed my Master Beekeeper Apprentice certification while I was revising the novel. I don’t have any similar hands-on experience with crows or other birds, but I’m an avid birdwatcher. I love watching the birds in my yard and in the woods around town. I also love to listen to birds and can often more easily identify them through their songs and calls than how they look. This is especially fun during migration, when an old favorite arrives in town, like the varied thrush and the robin.

The idea for Crow Talk came to me during the pandemic. All the trails in my hometown were
shut down and I was longing for the woods. I was able to make a trip back to the family place I mentioned earlier. When I arrived, I felt such relief at being alone and outside under the trees. That’s when I first got this idea—what if I took three wounded people and put them in a setting like the one I loved so much? How might the natural beauty of that place help them connect and heal?

What makes crows and other corvids so special? Did you have to do any research for that aspect of the story, and if so, what is the most interesting thing you learned?

Crows and other corvids are so smart and so interesting! While researching this book, I learned many things. For example, crows can recognize human faces. This means they recall those who have helped them as well as people who have not been so nice—for years! I learned that crows love to play and have been documented doing things like surfing the air on pieces of wood, sliding on snow, and riding an updraft just for fun. They use tools and are incredibly mischievous—teasing dogs and stealing things like windshield wiper blade, cigarettes, lit candles from shrines, cups of coffee. I loved reading about how they care for sick and injured family members too. The books of corvid expert John M. Marzluff were hugely helpful. So were books by Sy Montgomery, Helen MacDonald, and Lyanda Lynn Haupt.

One of your characters is an Irish musician. Are you fond of traditional Irish music? Do you have any favorite performers or pieces of music? (full disclosure: some of my own favorites in this vein include Altan, The Bothy Band, Karan Casey, and the sean-nós singer Iarla Ó Lionáird)

Yes, I’m a big fan of traditional Irish music as well as Celtic music in general. I grew up listening to the Thistle and Shamrock and singing older ballads—Irish, Scottish, and English. My great-grandparents were Irish immigrants and everyone in my family sings, though none of us has formal training. Big fan of Altan (Mairéad Ní Mhaonaigh—what a voice!), and I love Kevin Burke’s fiddle playing. I think he plays with The Bothy Band sometimes.

Tell us a little bit about your writing process. Is there a particular way you work, a specific spot where you like to write? Do you have the story mapped out in your mind before you begin?

Since I wrote my first book, my process has been fairly consistent. I have small office in the (darkest, coldest) corner of the house. I get up early, make coffee, and start working on whatever project I have underway. Any new writing happens in these first hours. I can revise and answer emails later, but the creative stuff happens early or not at all.

I write all the way through a first draft and never have the story mapped out before I start. When I wrote my memoir, I had loads of old memories and stories, but no sense of how they would hang together. When I wrote my first novel, the opening sentence just came to me when I was in the car one day. With Crow Talk, I got the idea for the setting first—a remote alpine lake—and then the characters came along. It’s been different each time and always a leap of faith.

Tell us about your library. What’s on your own shelves?

My shelves are a mix of poetry, memoir, fiction, and children’s books. I collect fairytales and children’s books—usually those that involve magical animals. I also have a collection of old novels that were my grandmother’s—Louisa May Alcott, Charles Dickens, Frances Hodgson Burnett. I cringe now to think how’d I drag those lovely old books up into the woods to read when I was a kid! But I also love that the family culture was “Read! Read everything, anywhere, all the time!”

What have you been reading lately, and what would you recommend to other readers?

Some recent favorites include the memoir by Scottish comedian Fern Brady called Strong Female Character (featuring her adult diagnosis with autism), James by Percival Everett (a reimagining of The Adventures Huckleberry Finn from Jim’s point of view), and Poetry Unbound: 50 Poems to Open Your World by Irish poet Pádraig Ó Tuama (in which he introduces the poems of others in a similar way that he employs on his wonderful podcast Poetry Unbound).

LibraryThing is pleased to sit down this month with author Chad Corrie, whose published work ranges across a variety of genres and forms, from comic books and graphic novels to fantasy fiction. His epic fantasy series for adults, The Wizard King Trilogy, was published in 2020 and 2021 by Dark Horse Comics, which also published The Shadow Regent in 2023, as well as his recent graphic novel, Sons of Ashgard: Ill Met in Elmgard, a 2023 Foreword Indie Award finalist in the Graphic Novel & Comics category. As the Sparrow Flies, the first in Corrie’s new young adult dystopian series, Sojourners’ Saga, is due out from Dark Horse in May.

Set in a dying world, As the Sparrow Flies is a dystopian fantasy with a twist, featuring two young protagonists who must find a way to survive or escape their world, rather than save it. Is this important? Were you simply interested in writing a survival story, or was there a deeper message there, about how the individual might respond to harsh circumstances and apocalyptic events?

A major impetus for Sojourners’ Saga was the desire to do something new. At the time I started writing the series I was working on finishing up more epic fantasy tales with these massive story universes and there was an appeal to actually having a series where the world was dying and things were bleak—a near complete opposite of what I was doing with this other work at the time. Person vs. nature also wasn’t a story type I’d yet explored, further sweetening the pot.

And it would be fair to say I was intrigued with the idea of seeing how I’d be able to write something more survival-based in general. It wasn’t so much an initial theme or concept that drove me to it, just the idea of exploring something different. The idea of fleeing the danger rather than trying to correct it was also something different and a bit of a challenge to myself, I guess, to see what was possible.

Dystopian fiction has become very popular over the last few decades. Why do you think that is? Does it offer something to readers that other kinds of fiction do not?

Dystopian fiction has indeed had a long history from 1984 and Brave New World—and even before that with some of the pulp speculative fiction from the early 20th century, etc. Recent years have seen something different in terms of the intended audience for many of these tales—that is many of the dystopian tales from the last couple decades having a definite YA bent or focus.

This allows for the theme of the younger generation rising up to combat/correct the corruption/failure of the previous generation(s) as well as the classic coming of age tale in a world/place that is far from ideal. The fact that these newer tales were written initially by Gen X authors who already had some skepticism to things and didn’t trust authority or authority figures in general, probably only aided their creation. Add in various challenges from concerns over climate, fear of having less/being worse off than the previous generation, etc. and it only adds more fuel to the fire.

And while I’m Gen X myself, this wasn’t the sort of path I ended up going for Sojourners’ Saga. As you said, the protagonists know they can’t save their world and so have to find alternatives to survival, which end up taking them down very different paths, which soon enough will cause problems and internal crises of belief in said ideas and ideals, not to mention issues and challenges with remaining population groups.

As to what dystopian fiction offers the reader, oddly enough it’s hope. As no matter how bad something is portrayed in a story we can usually step back and say, “maybe we don’t have things as bad as some think, as it could be much worse than this…” And, in most cases (but not all) there’s a silver lining to those dark dystopian clouds. The heroes triumph, the world is improved, etc. And in that, I suppose, it can inspire the reader to not give up hope and look for ways to make the world a brighter place—at least in their own sphere of influence.

What was the inspiration for your book? Did it start with a story idea, a character, or something else altogether?

I usually get “scenes” or “flavors” that inspire me to write a story. Often I’ll view something in my mind’s eye that’s really just like watching a movie. The whole scene will play out and serve as either the foundation or inspiration for some tale. Other times I’ll get ideas for different flavors of a story that would make an interesting mix. Perhaps something like Vikings mixed with anthropomorphic squirrels, which led to the the creation of the Sons of Ashgard graphic novel, for example.

With the Sojourners’ Saga series the desire mainly was to do something different than what I had been doing before, which as I previously mentioned, was more epic fantasy fare. Going from a massively epic setting to something more apocalyptic and human-centric was also a first for me. I was curious to explore a story and world that only had humans as the main population, rather than a roster of varied beings and beasts.

It was only later as I was in the midst of the process that I finally understood the story was supposed to be YA, which was also a few steps removed from what I had been doing before. This would later inform more of how things would be organized by chapter and POV, and actually was an interesting learning experience that forced me to think and re-think things through in ways I might not have if I was writing a more strictly adult story.

This book is a departure for you, in terms of the intended audience and the story type. Were there challenges, or things you particularly enjoyed about writing for a young adult audience? Was there anything different about your writing and storytelling process, in light of the fact that this world was less magical, less fantastic, than some of the others of which you have written?

Obviously, I can’t speak to everyone who writes YA, but for myself I had to consider just what was the best way to convey something that made sense to a younger character’s mind who may or may not have all the additional reference and context that older people would from years of lived experience.

As I said previously, it really had me stopping and considering things in some new ways, and ultimately had me going through and re-writing whole chapters and scenes as I came to better understand Elliott and Sarah, our two main protagonists. Additionally it allowed me to have some fun with the older characters and scenes with more nuance and other elements that older readers will notice: subtle ways things are said, how they come across to the younger character(s), etc.

As far as challenges to the world building, the biggest challenge was in realizing that I’d still have to craft a pretty detailed history and culture for various people even if the world—and the populous by extension—is crumbling around them. I had foolishly thought in the beginning that because things are going to be on their last legs, as it were, it wasn’t really important to get too much into the history and background of things. But I didn’t get too far into the process before realizing I’d been mistaken.

I had to take some time off writing to build the world—crafting things that most folks won’t ever see or know—so I’d have a solid foundation upon which to rest the story. So no matter how much I had tried to get around it the present, it turns out, is very much predicated on the past. That said, I did manage to get in some of that history and background in each of the books in the way of appendices readers can explore if they’re seeking more context and background to certain aspects of the world and/or story.

It was refreshing to get something more “low fantasy” in the mix too. In some ways it made for some more interesting stories as you can’t just have them zap something with a spell or laser to save the day. There’s a level of grit and reality that permeates the narrative space I found intriguing and added some interesting parameters and feeling to the tale.

As the Sparrow Flies is the first in a trilogy. Can you give us any hints about what’s coming next, in the Sojourners’ Saga?

First off, the entire series has been written. I tend to write the whole series of a work before I submit it to publishers. That way we all know what we’re getting into and it allows me a chance to go back and better align the tale so it flows smoothly from beginning to end. Having it finished also helps with readers, many of whom can be leery about approaching a new series. If they know it’s finished from the get go it’s less of a risk in giving it their consideration.

In the two remaining novels (each to be released in May over the next two years) Sarah and Elliott will come to face their beliefs about themselves and what they previously held so dear while also trying to stay alive long enough to reach some perceived better place for them as both their personal worlds along with the planet unravel around them.

There will be action, exploration of more of the world and its history, as well as a bonding between these two unlikely persons who come to see more of the truth that has so long eluded them and others of the world all these years. And, ultimately, there will be some interesting answers and developments that unfold—for both reader and characters alike.

Tell us about your library. What’s on your own shelves?

Not as much as there used to be. Since I’m always working on something—world building, writing, etc.—I haven’t read as much for pleasure as I used to, usually focusing on more non-fiction topics tied to business or writing or other areas I’m seeking to explore for creating worlds, making websites, or something else I’m engaged in at the present.

That said, some recent titles I’ve been able to squeeze in are the new Calvin and Hobbes collection that came out last year, picking up some of the latest Conan comics—Conan the Barbarian Vol. 1, Conan the Barbarian Vol. 2, Conan the Barbarian by Jim Zub Vol. 1—from Marvel before they went to Titan Comics for their new editions, Blood of the Serpent by S.M. Stirling, and the two latest Dragonlance novels by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman (Dragons of Deceit, Dragons of Fate). Next on my TBR pile is Winter’s Song: A Hymn to the North by T.D. Mishchke, which talks about winters in the Midwest.

What have you been reading lately, and what would you recommend to other readers?

While I think those with a fantasy-bent to their reading preferences might enjoy the above-mentioned titles, over the years I’ve found myself revisiting some of Robert E. Howard’s writing on occasion. In particular, I’ve rather enjoyed exploring his other characters outside of Conan such as El Borak, Bran Mak Morn, Solomon Kane, and Kull.

Now granted, these stories might not be everyone’s cup of tea and some are better than others, but two tales really have stood out to me over the years for different reasons: The Screaming Skull of Silence and The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune.

Both are Kull stories and are rather short, but just have something that inspired me in various ways with my own writing and world building, I guess. But they also, I now realize, are rather part of a dystopian flavor that permeate a good deal of Howard’s work—especially with his Kull stories, which feature a character who was literally ruling over an empire and people in decline. So, in a way, I guess you could argue that these stories (with many others over the years) helped provide some of the initial ideas and atmosphere for Sojourners’ Saga, bringing us neatly full circle to where we started with this interview…

LibraryThing is pleased to sit down this month with bestselling author Kristin Hannah, who has had twenty-four novels published from 1991 through 2021. Trained as a lawyer, she practiced law in Seattle for a time before devoting herself to writing full time. Her best-selling book, The Nightingale (2015) has sold more than 4.5 million copies globally, and has been translated into 45 languages, while her 2008 Firefly Lane was adapted in a popular 2021 Netflix series of the same name. Hannah’s twenty-fifth novel, The Women, which chronicles the lives of women coming of age during the 1960s, is due out from Macmillan this month.

Your new book follows the story of a young woman who joins the Army Nurse Corps, and follows her brother to Vietnam. How did the story first come to you? Did it start with the character of Frankie, or was it the idea of a woman living through these events that came first?

This is actually a book I have wanted to write for more than twenty years. I grew up during the Vietnam era, and even though I was in elementary school, the war cast a huge shadow across my life. A very close girlfriend’s father was a pilot who served and was shot down and was Missing In Action. In those days, we wore silver prisoner of war bracelets that commemorated a missing serviceman. The idea was to wear the bracelet until he came home. Well, my friend’s father never did come home and I wore that bracelet for years, and was reminded of him and his service and war each day. I was a young teenager when the war ended, and I remembered how the veterans were treated when they returned home after their service. It was a shameful time in America and that, too, cast a long shadow. For years, I wanted to write about the turbulence and chaos and division of the times, but it wasn’t until the pandemic, when I was on lockdown in Seattle, confined to my home essentially, and watching our nurses and doctors serving on the front lines of the pandemic, becoming exhausted amid the political division of the time that it all came together for me. That’s when I knew I was ready to write about the women who served in the war and were forgotten at home.

The 1960s was a time of great change and social upheaval, and has been written about extensively, as has the war. What does The Women bring to the table? Do you feel it offers a new perspective, and if so, why is that important?

Honestly, for years and years, the Vietnam War was kind of a taboo subject. The American mood seemed to be that when the war finally ended, no one wanted to talk about it, so I actually think there are a lot of stories out there that need to be told. I hope The Women will encourage other stories. And yes, the novel adds an important element to the war narrative—its the story of the women who served and how they dealt with that service when they came home. It’s about their lost and forgotten service. The nurses who served in Vietnam were tough, resilient, courageous. Their story is one to be remembered.

Tell us a little bit about your process, writing the book. Did you have to do a great deal of research? What are some of the most interesting things you learned about the period? Was there anything you found particularly difficult to write about?

I love doing a deep, deep dive into a time and place, and certainly this time in America and in Vietnam were a daunting task to try and understand. That’s one of the reasons that I focused on my character of Frankie McGrath; I was able to tell a big, epic story in a very intimate way. The most difficult part of this book, in the writing, was the fear I felt that veterans of the war would be reading it, and the seriousness of my ambition to do right by them, to tell their story in an honest, accurate, and unflinching way. I am proud to say that the word of mouth on the book from Vietnam veterans has been the highlight of my long career. I am so proud to shine a light on their service.

Your story centers female friendship, even as it depicts characters whose wartime experiences are suppressed and disregarded, in part because they are women. What is it about this tension, between the private and public lives of women, that makes for such a powerful story?

We are lucky to be living in a time when forgotten and marginalized stories are being celebrated. I think when it comes to women’s stories, it’s just important to put us back in the historical narrative. All too often our service and courage and grit have been overlooked by the people who wrote the history books and taught the classes. I want to ensure that the women coming of age now, and their daughters and sons, will know and appreciate the importance of women’s roles in history. And yes, The Women definitely is a novel that highlights female friendship. For years, we have seen and read about men’s friendships that are forged in the fire of battle, and women are no different. So many women keep up those friendships, lean on them, for the whole of their lives, and I love to show that. The beating heart of The Women, for all it’s wartime drama and peacetime conflict, is really the friendship of the female combat vets.

Tell us about your library. What’s on your own shelves?

Like any book lover, my house is crowded with books on shelves. They are everywhere! I have fiction shelves and non fiction shelves galore. But I do have some enduring favorites that I always recommend: The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón; One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez; The Witching Hour by Anne Rice; and The Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy.

What have you been reading lately, and what would you recommend to other readers?

Well, at the moment, I am trying to come up with a new idea, which is surprisingly difficult to do. Following The Women will not be easy. My favorite recent reads are: The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store, All the Colors of the Dark, Demon Copperhead, and The Good Left Undone. Also, there are several Vietnam nurse memoirs that I read in researching The Women that I think are amazing: Healing Wounds: A Vietnam War Combat Nurse’s 10-Year Fight to Win Women a Place of Honor in Washington, D.C. by Diane Carlson Evans; American Daughter Gone to War: On the Front Lines With an Army Nurse in Vietnam by Winnie Smith; and Home Before Morning: The Story of an Army Nurse in Vietnam by Linda Van Devanter.