[Author Interview] Jennie Marsland – Shattered

Jennie Marsland is a teacher with a degree in Agriculture, amateur musician, lives in Nova Scotia, and author of the historical fiction book SHATTERED. She has an interesting story to tell in her interview.

Welcome, Jennie. What is your book about?

Shattered is the story of a returned World War 1 soldier who finds love and healing with a young woman who’s struggling to make a place for herself in her family and in her world, in spite of dyslexia. It’s a story of triumph over adversity, set in Halifax, Nova Scotia, against the background of the Halifax Explosion of 1917, which is still the largest non-nuclear, man-made explosion in history. It occurred on December 6, when two ships, one of which was loaded with explosives, collided in Halifax Harbour. Half the city was devastated. Here’s a picture of the city’s downtown, which was spared the worst of the damage, a few years after the time of my story:

What inspired you to write this particular story?

Well, the Halifax Explosion was a major event in the city’s history, and I worked for ten years in the part of town that was most affected. During that time, a friend of mind told me about an unsettling experience. She came home from work one day, glanced in her kitchen window and saw a man dressed in old-fashioned clothes, sitting at her table. While she was looking at him, he vanished. The Explosion killed over 2000 people, so it’s not surprising that supernatural stories from that time abound, but my friend’s experience got my imagination spinning.

Tell us a little about your main characters.

Liam Cochrane, the hero, is trying to overcome the trauma of his experience in the trenches of World War 1. He’s coping with a physical wound and with the loss of his younger brother. He survives from day to day by keeping to the surface of life, because going deeper is too painful. Liam’s a quick-tempered tough guy, but he’s really hiding a soft heart. Alice O’Neill has always seen the gentleness beneath Liam’s tough exterior and she’s loved him for it for years, but her family has labeled her as slow because she can’t read, and she doesn’t believe Liam could ever care for her. I like both of them because of their inner strength in the face of adversity, and Liam’s I’ll-fight-you-in-an-alley-and-drink-with-you-afterward attitude makes me smile.

How does your environment/upbringing colour your writing?

My family roots are here in Nova Scotia, and I’ve always enjoyed hearing my parents and grandparents talk about what life was like when they were young. I’ve lived in Halifax for the last thirty years, and stories of the Explosion are woven into the fabric of the city’s culture. There’s endless material here for a history buff like me.

Also, I find the First World War era fascinating. There was so much change happening so quickly – cars replacing horses, people having electricity and telephones installed in their homes, women reaching for political power and sexual freedom. People felt as if their world was turning upside down. I tried to capture this feeling of restlessness and change in the story.

Have you ever had difficulty killing off a character?

The hardest part of writing Shattered was deciding who among my cast of characters was going to die. There was no way I could keep the story realistic if I let them all survive. The hero and heroine live and have a happy ending, of course, but I had to sacrifice some other characters that I loved. It’s the first time I’ve done that.

What do you like to read?

I grew up reading my father’s Zane Grey and Louis L’Amour collection, and I still enjoy Westerns. I enjoy historical romance by authors like Julianne Maclean, Anna Campbell and Pamela Clare, as well as everything by Jane Austen and the Brontes. I’m an avid reader who doesn’t really stick to one genre. One author I’ve loved since childhood is a fellow Maritimer, Lucy Maud Montgomery.

What, in your opinion, are the essentials of a good story?

Character and conflict. My writing is character-driven. The plot grows out of the personalities and flaws of the characters. A good story has a balance of action and character development.

What was the first story you remember writing?

I’m one of those people who started writing as a child. By the time I was ten or eleven, I had a binder full of stories, mostly about horses. I’ve written more or less all my life, with some long breaks here and there.

Do you have any writing rituals?

Not really. I usually settle on the living room sofa with my laptop and one or both of my dogs, and just dig in.

Have you written any other books?

Yes. My first novel, a historical Western entitled McShannon’s Chance, and the prequel, McShannon’s Heart, are both available as ebooks and in print from most online booksellers. The hero of Chance, Trey McShannon, is the twin brother of Rochelle McShannon, the heroine of Heart. Trey’s story takes place in post-Civil War Colorado Territory and Chelle’s takes place in the Yorkshire Dales in England. The McShannons are originally from Morgan County, Georgia, but the family is separated at the outbreak of the Civil War, Trey to join the Union army and Chelle to go with her father to his old home in England.

What advice would you give an aspiring author?

If you love to write, never give up. Keep writing, keep honing your craft, write stories from your heart and it will pay off.

Shattered is available on Amazon.

My blog: http://www.jenniemarsland.blogspot.com

My website: http://www.jenniemarsland.webs.com

Now here’s an excerpt for your enjoyment – Liam’s and Alice’s first dance, and Liam’s first encounter with Alice’s very troubled brother, Carl, another returned soldier with a lot of problems – and the hero of my current WIP.

He took Alice’s hand and drew her into his arms. Dancing and the heat had brought the blood to her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled like running brook water again. Although she blushed, he sensed no shyness in her body. She fit naturally in his arms, as if she belonged there.

Yeah. She sure isn’t a kid anymore.

Then, like a bolt from the blue an image flashed into Liam’s mind, Alice dancing close, nestled in his arms with her head on his shoulder. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, where did that come from? She’s Georgie’s sister!  He loosened his hold on her, but that didn’t dull his awareness of every slender curve, of her light floral perfume. Worse, he saw in her eyes that she felt the awareness between them, too. 

Before he could make an excuse and abandon her, the band ended the waltz with an extra flourish. The leader bowed to the crowd. “Catch your breath, ladies and gentlemen, while the chair of your Social Committee says a few words. I give you Mrs. Frances Henneberry.”

Everyone returned to their seats, Liam with a sigh of devout thanks. He angled his chair to put Stephen and Alice out of his line of slight. As far as I’m concerned, friend, she’s all yours. Good luck keeping her. Thin, sharp-faced Mrs. Henneberry stepped onto the platform with a self-conscious smile and cleared her throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s wonderful to see you all here, supporting our parish’s efforts to ease the suffering of helpless civilians overseas. There is more than one person here tonight who could tell us first-hand just how severe those sufferings have been and what our sons and brothers have sacrificed in the effort to end them. The least we here at home can do is – ”

“Shut up. That’s the least you can do.”

The words carried clearly from the corner nearest the O’Neills’ table. Every head swiveled. Georgie blushed a deep red. Alice’s face blanched pearl-white. In the shadows just beyond the lighted platform, Carl leaned against the wall, his face flushed with heat and liquor. No one at the table had noticed him come in.

An older, heavier Carl than Liam remembered, with a harder face. The tough kid had grown into a tough man, with an added belligerence. One look at his glazed eyes told Liam Georgie’s brother was a loose cannon.

He and Stephen got up at the same instant and started toward the corner. Stephen got there first and planted himself in front of Carl.

“You’ve said enough. Your sisters are here.”

“I’m not leaving ‘til I make my point.” Carl pushed Stephen back and raised his voice again. “That old windbag hasn’t got anyone at the front. She doesn’t have a clue.”

The scathing words on Liam’s tongue died there. Up close, Carl reminded him too much of men he’d seen in hospital, men who woke in the night screaming as he’d done more than once. Men who spent their days looking at the world through vacant eyes. And Mrs. Henneberry annoyed the hell out of him, too.

“You’re right, Carl. She doesn’t. This isn’t the place for either of us. Come outside and get some fresh air.”

Fists clenched, Carl took a step forward. “Don’t bullshit me, Liam. I’m not going anywhere until I’m good and ready. Who do you think you are, anyway? Your little brother isn’t the only one who’s been killed overseas, you know. Just –”

Liam didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. Rage blotted out his compassion, rage and the memory of Michael-John’s wide, sightless dark eyes. His first punch landed hard in Carl’s belly. The second hit his jaw, knocking him backward and throwing Liam off-balance. They hit the floor, fists flying. The next thing he knew, Nolan was dragging him to his feet while his father and Stephen pinioned Carl. Liam shook his brother off and dove at Carl, only to have his bad leg collapse and land him back on the floor. Nolan helped him up again and got a firm grip on his arms.

“What the hell? Liam, stop it!”

The girls stood nearby now. Georgie’s eyes sparkled with anger, but the strain on Alice’s face did more to clear the haze from Liam’s mind. He stopped struggling with Nolan, took a deep breath and swallowed. The metallic taste of blood in his mouth made his stomach churn.

“The son of a bitch insulted Michael-John.”

Nolan released his hold and took a step toward Carl, putting himself in the man’s face. “If I ever hear of you mentioning my brother’s name again, I’ll finish what Liam started. Dad, Stephen, get him the hell out of here.”

Still winded from Liam’s first blow, blood trickling from his nose, Carl didn’t offer much resistance. Liam figured he’d gotten the worst of the encounter himself, a split lip and what would likely be a magnificent shiner. A couple of older women were on the platform trying to soothe Mrs. Henneberry, who looked on the verge of tears. He should go and say something to her, but at the moment he couldn’t find the words. He shrugged Nolan’s hand from his shoulder.

“I’m leaving. Apologize to Georgie for me, would you?” Without waiting for an answer, he walked out.

Digital Book Today: Thank you Jennie for telling us your story and sharing with us your ideas. Good luck in the future.

Tags: Historical Romance