Small Town Author Finds Success in Paris-Interview with Janet Skeslien Charles

Janet Skeslien Charles
Photo credit: Eddie Charles

by Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

Every time I think I must know or have heard of every Montana author, I meet a new one. This summer, I had the pleasure of attending a talk by Paris-based author Janet Skeslien Charles, who wrote the international bestseller The Paris Library, and her new book, Miss Morgan’s Book Brigade.

Turns out Janet grew up in the little town of Shelby, Montana, population 3200+.

The streets of Shelby must have seemed empty the day of her talk because a number of residents made the three-plus hour trip to Kalispell to see her.

They’re understandably proud of their hometown author who is probably Shelby’s biggest sensation since the heavyweight boxing championship there in 1923 between Jack Dempsey and Tommy Gibbons.

Janet and her charming French husband Eddie live in Paris where she immerses herself in history and culture from World War I and II when her books are set. She visits cemeteries where the dead from those wars are buried. Her meticulous research was evident in her slide show with many black and white photos and historic documents from those eras.

Since many TKZers read and write historical fiction, I thought Janet’s insights and experiences would be helpful to learn about and she graciously agreed to be interviewed.

Please welcome Janet to the Zone.

Debbie Burke: Congratulations on the success of your books! Please share how a small-town Montana girl wound up in Paris.

Janet Skeslien Charles: Thank you, Debbie! As you noted, I grew up in a small town near the Canadian border. Glimpses of the outside world came from my neighbor, a war bride from France, as well from my grandmother’s jigsaw puzzles with their images of French castles. Each week, my mother drove my grandmother, who’d never learned to drive, to the grocery store and the library. From these treks, I understood that books were as nourishing as food, and that the library was a window to the world. These influences inspired me to study French in high school and college, then apply for a teaching job in France. I first worked in eastern France, in Mulhouse, then in the suburbs of Paris.

Anne Morgan

DB: Your books are fiction yet are based on real life women who lived in Paris in the early 1900s, notably Anne Morgan, daughter of millionaire banker J.P. Morgan, and Jessie Carson, a NYC librarian. How did you learn about them and their humanitarian missions?

JSC: In 2010, while researching Dorothy Reeder, the librarian who stood up to the Nazis during World War II in The Paris Library, I discovered that during the Great War, an American librarian named Jessie “Kit” Carson traveled to France, where she created something that did not yet exist here – children’s libraries. After the war, she transformed ambulances into bookmobiles. I’d lived in France for over a decade and had never heard of Carson or the organization that hired her – the American Committee for Devastated France. (In French, the group was called Le Comité américain pour les régions dévastées, or CARD. Members called themselves Cards.) Several Cards received the War Cross medal for courage under fire. I knew I had to write the story.

In 2019, I traveled to the Morgan Library and the New York Public Library to learn more about Anne Morgan and Jessie Carson. There is a lot of information about Anne Morgan, but very little about Jessie Carson. Luckily, the Cards wrote many letters and kept journals, so was able to find more material about Carson.

DB: Why do you think your books resonate so much with readers?

JSC: My readers love libraries and know how important reading is to people of all ages. They enjoy learning about women’s war efforts that sadly have been left out of history books. Jessie Carson was a children’s librarian who changed the literary landscape of France by creating libraries with open stacks and children’s sections. She also paved the way for a library school to train the first French female librarians. Yet both in France and the US, she is unknown. I hope that my readers and I will change that.

DB: Please describe some of your research.  How did you blend actual history with the fictional tale?

JSC: I read books about World War I and memoirs by volunteers such as Mary Breckinridge, who went on to create the first comprehensive healthcare system in America. Breckinridge also wrote letters home, and described the situation and her surroundings very well. I read works by French civilians who described the brutal occupation of German soldiers. (Before reaching this book, I had no idea that northern France had been occupied during World War I. According to a CARD report, French children had “skin disease due to malnutrition or practical starvation… and curvature of the spine due to the fact that the Germans made them work in the fields and abandoned trenches.” ) Correspondence between Anne Morgan and her longtime love, Anne Murray Dike, helped me understand the Cards’ personalities.

Bombs destroyed schools and homes. Of course, at that time, there was no radio or television. Books were really the only form of entertainment. So Jessie Carson’s libraries were vital to the community. These children needed to learn how to laugh and play. They needed the enjoyment and escape that only reading could bring. Photos of the children through the years show a progression as they gained weight and learned how to smile again.

Reading the letters and memoirs helped me create the vocabulary and personalities of the volunteers. Documents about how women would be good at library work because they could “type reports and dust the books” underlined the challenges and contemptuous attitudes that the women faced. It is hard to describe the process of blending fact and fiction. Though I invented the dialogue, I used the women’s words from their diaries, letters, and memoirs. I had to tighten timelines and could not write about all the amazing Cards. So perhaps fictionalizing is about making these kinds of choices.

DB: When you visited historic sites, which one made the most meaningful impression on you and why?

Bierancourt
Photo provided by Janet Skeslien Charles

JSC: I was very happy to travel to northern France to visit CARD headquarters in Blérancourt. During the war, the chateau was in ruins. Now, it houses the world’s first and only Franco-American museum, with a large exhibit about the Cards. It was humbling to see how this group of 350 women rebuilt this part of France during and after World War I. Many aid groups left right after the war in 1918, but CARD remained to train French teachers, nurses, and librarians before leaving in 1924. This is the centennial of the Cards handing over the reins to Frenchwomen.

DB: Do you have favorite tips for writers doing historical research?

JSC: Don’t be afraid to pick up the phone and call people. I called every Breckinridge on the East Coast in order to find the descendants of Mary Breckinridge. We are so lucky to live in an age where information is digitized. The CARD reports were all available on line, as were Anne Morgan’s letters to her mother. It is easy to contact museums, historical societies, and libraries to get the information you need. Don’t wait!

DB: What are you working on now?

JSC: I’m waiting to get the copy editor’s notes on my latest novel, THE PARISIAN CHAPTER. It follows a young woman from Montana who lands a job in the American Library in Paris, where she writes her own Parisian chapter.

Lily Jacobsen and her best friend Mary Louise are determined to establish themselves as artists – Lily, a novelist, and Mary Louise, a painter. They share a tiny sixth-floor walkup and survive on brie and baguette.

When Mary Louise abruptly moves out, Lily feels alone in the City of Light for the first time, and is in need of rent money. As the programs manager, Lily is honored to follow in the footsteps of her French neighbor Odile, who infused her childhood with tales of heroic World War II librarians. Here in the storied halls of the ALP, Lily meets an incredible cast of characters – her favorite author, quirky coworkers, broke students, and high society trustees – each with their own stories… and agendas.

The story will come out as an audiobook and features eleven different voices, offering a panoramic view of a real historic institution, and revisiting characters from both of my novels set in France. Lily’s story is a love letter to the artist’s life, the importance of friendship, and leaving home only to find it again. I can’t wait to share it with readers!

Debbie, thank you again for taking the time to interview me!

~~~

Janet, thanks for taking us on a journey to historic Paris. I love your line, “I understood that books were as nourishing as food, and that the library was a window to the world.”

Website: jskesliencharles.com

Sales links for The Paris Library:

Readers in the US: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Bookshop | Books A Million | Kindle | Google Play
Readers in Canada:
Amazon | Indigo | Kindle | Kobo | Apple
Audio:
Audible | Google Play | Amazon | Barnes & Noble

Sales links for Miss Morgan’s Book Brigade:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Books A Million | Bookshop | Kindle | Apple | Google Play | Kobo
Audio: Audible | Audiobooks | Barnes & Noble | Google Play | Libro | Spotify | Apple Books

Instagram: jskesliencharles

Substack newsletter: https://jskesliencharles.substack.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jskesliencharles

~~~

TKZers: Did Janet’s experiences spark fresh ideas for your own research? When you read historical fiction, what qualities make it come alive for you?

Interview with Karen Odden, Historical Mystery Author

By Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

Recently I attended a Zoom workshop by bestselling historical mystery author Karen Odden. The opening slide of her PowerPoint presentation wowed us. It was a striking photo of an old-fashioned steam locomotive that had rammed through a wall on an upper floor of a building and was hanging down to the street below.

Karen Odden, historical mystery author

 

For the next 90 minutes, Karen kept us riveted with tales of actual catastrophes from Victorian England. Those events launched her down the research rabbit hole for her historical mystery series. Every discovery led to new story possibilities.

In addition to sharing her research adventures, Karen incorporated an advanced character-building workshop with fresh ideas I hadn’t run across before.

She kindly agreed to visit TKZ for an interview.

Welcome, Karen!

Debbie Burke: The inspiration process for your historical mystery series is a compelling study in itself. Would you walk us through that, including the turning points in the development? What was the moment of realization when you knew you had a winning concept?

Karen Odden: My fascination with the Victorian era began in grad school at NYU, in the 1990s, with a class called “The Dead Mother and Victorian Novels.” The professor noticed all these orphans running around Victorian novels – Jane Eyre, Pip, Oliver, Daniel Deronda, etc. She suggested the orphan was a trope for a profound historical change in England. Whereas in the 18th century, someone’s fortune and social status was inherited from their parents, in the 19th century, people (largely men) could make their own fortunes, in manufacturing, shipping, or whatever. So the orphan was a marker for how it was newly possible to define one’s self without reference to parents.

I found this way of thinking about literature and history fascinating, and I took more classes on Victorian literature, reading everything from Browning’s poems to Henry Morton Stanley’s African memoirs to Darwin’s scientific papers. I wrote my dissertation on the medical, legal, and popular literature written about Victorian railway disasters and the injuries they caused – with an eye to showing how those texts provided a framework for later theories, including shell shock and PTSD.

After graduating, I taught at UW-Milwaukee and did some free-lance editing. But around 2006, I decided I wanted to try writing a novel. For my topic, I leaned into my dissertation, putting a young woman and her laudanum-addicted mother on a railway train and sending it off the rails in 1874 London.

After many false starts, it was published, and I have remained in 1870s London for all my subsequent books. It’s a world I know, down to the shape of the ship rigging and the smells of tallow and lye, and although I have been told (more than once) that WWII books are an easier sell, I hope my books show the Victorian world in all its messy complexity, with all the possibilities for redemption. 

DB: What is TDEC?

KO: TDEC is The Day Everything Changes. Basically, it’s the time when the main character’s equilibrium is thrown off, and (with few exceptions) it occurs in chapter one. For example, it’s the moment when Magwitch grabs Pip on the marsh, or Scarlett attends the ball that will devastate her as she finds out Ashley is engaged to Melanie. The reason TDEC is important is every character brings their own personal myth – what they have gleaned from their unique past experiences – to page 1, and that personal myth shapes the way they approach, perceive, and make meaning of every important experience that happens from TDEC on.

A funny story – when I was writing the book that became A LADY IN THE SMOKE (2016), TDEC is when Lady Elizabeth and her laudanum-addicted mother are in a railway crash. But I originally had it in chapter 8. (!) The first seven chapters were backstory about why Elizabeth and her mother didn’t get along and historical facts about railways, accidents, Victorian medical men, and so on. My free-lance editor told me I had to cut it. When I winced, she said it was fascinating; however, it needed to be in my head as I was writing, but not on the page, at least not like that. Much of the material in those 7 chapters is feathered in throughout the book, but the train wreck happens in chapter 1, as it should.

DB: One of your themes is PTSD, a psychiatric disorder that can be traced throughout history under different names. Could you talk about how you identified the condition in the past?

KO: One of the starting points for my dissertation was the account of Charles Dickens, who was in the Staplehurst, Kent railway crash in 1865.

Charles Dickens, Getty Images

He climbed out of his overturned carriage, helped his mistress Ellen Ternan and her mother out, and then began ministering to people. The railway company sent an express to bring passengers back to London, and Dickens went home to bed. But the next day he was so shaky he couldn’t sign his name. He developed ringing in his ears, nervous tremors, and terrible nightmares, dying five years to the day afterward.

Some of the medical men at the time called this “railway spine” — the theory being that all the shaking around passengers experienced inside the toppling carriage caused tiny lesions in the spinal matter, which resulted in symptoms across the whole body. Of course, these lesions were a complete fabrication — but under existing medical jurisprudence, people couldn’t obtain financial compensation for injuries that were only “nervous”; they had to be organic — literally, tied to an organ — and the spine counted.

I am persistently curious about what injuries and experiences “count” in our culture — and how they reach the tipping point of being worth discussing, litigating, researching, compensating, and curing. To my mind, the medical profession has failed us at certain times in history; and these failures can be devastating because the disavowal of injury lays on a whole second layer of trauma.

DB: You divide conflict into two categories: intrapersonal and interpersonal. Please explain the difference and how you use them in your fiction.

KO: For me, intrapersonal conflict occurs within a character and is usually the result of a conflict between an MC’s personal myth – the beliefs they have about the world and themselves, derived from past experiences – and their current lived experience. For example, in The Queen’s Gambit, chess prodigy Beth Harmon learned early on, in the orphanage, that mind-numbing drugs are an acceptable way to escape her world; but later, her lived experience shows that she loses chess tournaments when she plays hung over. So she must amend her personal myth, if she wants to achieve her desire of being chess champion. In parenting, sometimes this is called “natural consequences.”

Interpersonal conflict happens when two characters have personal myths that cannot be reconciled. In The Queen’s Gambit, Beth is a distrustful loner who doesn’t like to depend on others; but secondary character Benny Watts finds a sense of self-worth through teaching other people chess and being appreciated for his efforts. At the level of plot, Beth and Benny are in conflict because both want to be chess champions; at the level of character, they are in conflict because Beth’s personal myth includes the belief that gratitude is a sign of weakness, while for Benny other people’s gratitude contributes to his self-worth.

In my Inspector Corravan mysteries, Michael Corravan is a former thief, dock-worker, and bare-knuckles boxer who was orphaned as a youth and earned his place in his adoptive family by saving young Pat Doyle from a vicious beating. So Corravan comes out of Whitechapel scrappy, good with his fists, and with a belief that his value lies, in part, in his ability to rescue others. These are all fine traits for a Yard inspector.

But as his love interest Belinda points out, being a rescuer means Corravan never has to be vulnerable, and being vulnerable would make him a better listener and a better policeman. At first Corravan ridicules the idea, but when he finally allows himself to empathize with a powerless victim, the case breaks open. So there’s a combination of interpersonal and intrapersonal conflict that brings about a change in Corravan. He’s still a rescuer, but he understands the value of abandoning that role on occasion.

DB: Many writers fall into the bottomless well of historical research and can’t climb out to finish their story. How do you decide when you’ve done enough research and are ready to write the book?

Thames Disaster, Getty Images

KO: Often I begin with a single, large nugget of Victorian history – for example, in UNDER A VEILED MOON, it was the Princess Alice steamship disaster of 1878, in which over 550 people drowned in the Thames. But after a few chapters of writing, I wanted to add complexity to what history says was a mere accident, so I read more and discovered that there was no passenger manifest because it was a pleasure steamer, like our hop-on-hop-off buses. No one had any idea who was on the boat!

I also read some articles about anti-Irish discrimination and thought it would be a good element to have the Irish Republican Brotherhood blamed initially, especially as Corrovan is Irish.

What I’ve noticed about myself is that as I reach somewhere around the half-way mark and know how my story is unfolding, I stop directed reading about the topic, but everything I read and hear incidentally becomes fodder. As I was finishing A TRACE OF DECEIT (about the theft and forgery of priceless paintings), I happened to read a New Yorker article that mentioned a piece of little-known English law that added a new, crazy twist. I try to stay flexible; when I find something intriguing that might fit into my book, I give it a try.

To some extent, setting all my books in 1870s London makes it easy. I have a repository of historical information about economics, laws, social mores, buildings, railways, injuries and illnesses, etc. So I don’t have to reinvent the world with each book. In fact, I’ve recycled several secondary characters, most notably Tom Flynn, the newspaperman for the (fictional) London Falcon.

DB: In How to Write a Mystery, Gayle Lynds wrote, “In the end, we novelists use perhaps a tenth of a percent of the research we’ve done for any one book.” What percentage actually makes it into your books? Do you have suggestions of what to do with leftover material?

KO: I would agree with that! Somewhere around 10-20 per cent. The key thing is to have it firmly in my head as I write — the way I know how to use a toaster, for example — so that historical information feathers in organically. I try to avoid info-dumps (unprocessed history plopped in) and what I call shoe-horning. Sometimes I want to stick in some cool historical factoid, and it just doesn’t fit. So I save it for a fun blogpost!

DB: Is there anything else you’d like to talk about that I haven’t asked?

KO: I’d just like to share that I’ve found it vitally important to develop a robust community of practice. Writing is often solitary; but my books are certainly better because of my beta-readers, and my writing life more joyful and productive (and successful) because of the librarians, booksellers, and other writing professionals I have met. No one told me this about being a writer – that I’d find a smart, generous community, which helps immensely as we all navigate the often challenging publishing industry.

~~~

Thank you, Karen, for sharing your fascinating journey with TKZ!

USA Today bestselling author Karen Odden received her PhD in English from NYU, writing her dissertation on Victorian literature, and taught at UW-Milwaukee before writing mysteries set in 1870s London. Her fifth, Under a Veiled Moon (2022), features Michael Corravan, a former thief turned Scotland Yard Inspector; it was nominated for the Agatha, Lefty, and Anthony Awards for Best Historical Mystery. Karen serves on the national board of Sisters in Crime, and she lives in Arizona where she hikes the desert while plotting murder. Find out more about Karen’s books and writing workshops at www.karenodden.com.

FB: @karenodden

twitter: @karen_odden

IG: @karen_m_odden

~~~

TKZers: Do you read and/or write historical fiction? What era interests you the most? What’s your favorite research trick? 

Put Some Saga in Your Stories

by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

Around 850 A.D. a crew of Scandinavians was sailing around and got off course. They saw some land, and decided to check it out.

They didn’t know how cold this land could get, for if they had they might have turned right around and headed home. The place was packed with ice. “Let’s call it Iceland,” one of them said. And so it was claimed for good King Fairhair.

When word got to the king, he said, “The future is all about real estate. So let’s put in some family homes, a fish market or two, and a boat yard.”

The settlements began. It was hard at first to find a hospitable spot to set down roots. Whoever designed Iceland had put in lots of lava streams and glaciers, rocks and crags, and one strip mall with a tattoo parlor and the offices of the physician Dag “Dr. Leech” Gunnarsson.

Nevertheless, after several exploratory ventures, they found a place where at least the modicum of a village might be established.

But there was a modicum already there—with some strange fellows in cowls. These were Irish monks, who’d been there for over 100 years. These early inhabitants of Iceland were “Culdees.” Culdee comes from the Celtic Céile Dé, which means “God worshipper.” These monks lived lives of asceticism apart from human society, seeking entire sanctification. They had learned early, at least as far back as the 700s, that there’s not much sanctifying taking place in the world of human passions. Thus, they eschewed all video games, smart phones, talk shows, and Twitter.

The new settlers had to come up with their own form of entertainment. Life was taken up with catching foxes and ducks, reindeer and mice, whales and seals. These were often eaten at great feasts, where the conversation revolved mostly around the development of table manners. A century of this kind of palaver grew boring. So one night someone suggested, “Can somebody please tell a story?”

Thus was born the saga:

The original sagas were Icelandic prose narratives that were roughly analogous to modern historical novels. They were penned in the 12th and 13th centuries, and blended fact and fiction to tell the tales of famous rulers, legendary heroes, and average folks of Iceland and Norway. And they were aptly named: saga traces back to an Old Norse root that means “tale.” The English word first referred only to those original Icelandic stories, but saga later broadened to cover other narratives reminiscent of those, and the word was eventually further generalized to cover any long, complicated scenario.

According to the Encyclopedia Britannica, 1947 ed., the saga “in its purest form, extolled the life of a hero, governed by fixed rules, and intended for oral recitation.” The fixed rules were “simplicity of plot, chronological order of events, set phrases used even in describing the restless play of emotion or the changeful fortunes of a fight or a storm. The absence of digression, comment or intrusion of the narrator’s person is invariably maintained.”

Here you have plot, structure, restless emotions, and no author intrusion.

Further, these sagas display “the keen grasp of character, the biting phrase [style], the love of action and the delight in blood which almost assumes the garb of religious passion.”

The most popular of these oral tales were eventually written on scrolls. We have none of the originals, but copies that passed through various iterations: Editing and compounding (1220-1260), padding and amplifying (1260-1300), and the collection in large manuscripts (14th century).

Among the most famous Icelandic sagas are Vatzdaelasaga (890), relating to the settlement and chief family of Waterdale [historical fiction!]; Hord’s Saga, originally composed around 980 and telling the story of an outlaw named Hord [Anti-hero!].

We also have Havard (c. 1000), which recounts the titular character’s revenge for his son, murdered by a neighboring chief [revenge plot]; Heidarvigasaga (1015), the tale of a great blood feud [The Godfather, anyone?]; Eyrbyggia (1031), political intrigue; and Laxdaela (1026), a love triangle. Laxdaela features a female lead, Gudrun, who is the most famous of all Icelandic heroines. (Laxdaela spent forty weeks on the Icelandic Times bestseller list.)

All this goes to show how the fundamentals of storytelling seem innate throughout various cultures, and are still valid:

  1. A hero with whom we identify.
  2. A plot complication.
  3. Restless emotions.
  4. Action.
  5. Death stakes.
  6. Style (absent author intrusion). 

Saga has come to mean novel or series of novels that take place over a long period of time, usually in a historical context. The Trials of Kit Shannon is my saga series. I also wrote a long historical that covers World War I and takes us into 1920s Hollywood.

But the essence of saga, like that of myth, can apply to all genres of fiction. Think hero. Think big. Think action. Think emotions. Think death stakes (physical, professional, or psychological).

Most of all, think about telling a story to an audience that has worked hard hunting or fishing all day, and will fall asleep if you bore them!