No Dogs Were Harmed in Midnight on the Marne by Sarah Adlahka

 JENN McKINLAY: Today I am delighted to host Sarah Adlahka, who shares with us the challenges of writing about a gruesome time in history (WWI) without being too horrific. Quite the impossibility, right? Well, Sarah has some thoughts...welcome, Sarah! 

And, Readers, just look at the cover of this novel -- gorgeous!

SARAH: I believe it was during round 2 of revisions for my historical fiction novel Midnight on the Marne that my editor gave me this advice:

 

“Think about your audience as women browsing the shelves at Target in search of their next book club pick.”

 

She had already convinced me to cut the detailed interrogation scenes where the protagonist Marcelle is being questioned (tortured) by a German general about her espionage, and she was trying to get me to see that, while the mystery-meat a starving French family would have been eating for Christmas in 1918 might very well have been dog, readers in 2022 – dog lovers in particular – would not be so keen to pick up a book where Fido was the main course. Now to be fair, they weren’t eating their own dog. I do have my limitations.

 

But how do you write a book about WWI without highlighting the horrors of war? And how do you highlight the horrors of war without getting into the gritty and gruesome details?

 

Write the story you want to write.

Stay true to yourself.

Paint an authentic picture.

 

As authors, we hear advice like this all the time. Whether from well-meaning friends who are just trying to encourage us or from critique partners who know how difficult it is to be in the writing trenches. And it makes sense, right? If we’re going to invest years of our lives into a book, shouldn’t it be authentic? Shouldn’t an historical fiction novel reflect the truest details of history, the bygone eras we spend months, maybe even years, researching?

 

I want to say yes.

 

I want to be among the die-hards who believe that you really must stay true to your subject matter – down to the grittiest details – to make your words sing. And maybe you do. But making your words sing is not necessarily the same thing as making your words sell. And since we’re in the business of selling words – or books – it just might be a good idea to listen to your editor. They are, after all, just trying to sell your book, and selling books is a tricky business.

 

Like most things in life, success as an author is linked to the shifting tides of public opinion. It’s linked to trends. And trends change. Opinions change. What’s popular, or even acceptable, in print and television changes from one decade to the next, maybe even from one year to the next, and this was a difficult lesson for me to learn.

 

I wanted my scenes to be authentic. I wanted my readers to feel the sharp edges of a broken chair, to hear the cries of men over a battlefield, to see the color of war as the sun came up over the horizon. And while it felt like my artistic freedom was being taken away, like I was being asked to paint a rosy sheen over the gruesome reality of war, what I eventually learned was that I was being given a gift. I was not being asked to eliminate those realities; I was being tasked with conveying those horrors through the repercussions they would have on my characters.

 

The effects of an interrogation – the restless sleep, the hypervigilance around men, the inability to trust – are more significant to the development of a character than the actual event itself. So, while the German general’s interrogation of Marcelle might have been what changed her, it was the consequences of that interrogation that really brought life to her character, that guided her to react the way she did throughout the rest of the story. I didn’t need to show the interrogation for it to have an impact.

 

And that was the challenge.

 

As authors we’re constantly being told show don’t tell. Show me that war is dreadful. Show me that battles are brutal. Show me that starvation is ugly. But perhaps we take it too far sometimes. Perhaps we don’t need to see a woman being beaten to understand the repercussions of trauma; perhaps we don’t need to see the carnage of a battlefield to understand the foundation of PTSD; and perhaps we don’t need to see a family eating a dog to understand the desperation of starvation.

 

It was a difficult lesson for me to learn, but a valuable one no doubt, and you can be sure that if you’re browsing through the Target bookshelves and happen upon Midnight on the Marne, you won’t find any dogs being harmed on its pages.

JENN: What do you think, Reds and Readers? How much grisly fact is too much? 

Book Summary:

Set during the heroism and heartbreak of World War I, and in an occupied France in an alternative timeline, Sarah Adlakha’s Midnight on the Marne explores the responsibilities love lays on us and the rippling impact of our choices.

France, 1918. Nurse Marcelle Marchand has important secrets to keep. Her role as a spy has made her both feared and revered, but it has also put her in extreme danger from the approaching German army.

American soldier George Mountcastle feels an instant connection to the young nurse. But in times of war, love must wait. Soon, George and his best friend Philip are fighting for their lives during the Second Battle of the Marne, where George prevents Philip from a daring act that might have won the battle at the cost of his own life.

On the run from a victorious Germany, George and Marcelle begin a new life with Philip and Marcelle’s twin sister, Rosalie, in a brutally occupied France. Together, this self-made family navigates oppression, near starvation, and unfathomable loss, finding love and joy in unexpected moments.

Years pass, and tragedy strikes, sending George on a course that could change the past and rewrite history. Playing with time is a tricky thing. If he chooses to alter history, he will surely change his own future―and perhaps not for the better.

Sarah Adlakha is a native of Chicago who now lives along the Mississippi Gulf Coast with her husband, three daughters, two horses, and one dog. She started writing fiction shortly after retiring from her psychiatry practice. Her debut novel, She Wouldn’t Change a Thing, was a CNN most anticipated book of 2021. Midnight on the Marne is her second novel.