“The Plum Tree,” by Ellen Marie Wiseman

Author:

Ellen Marie Wiseman discovered her love of reading and writing while attending first grade in one of the last one-room schoolhouses in NYS. Her debut novel The Plum Tree - a WWII story about a young German woman trying to save the love of her life, a Jewish man - was released by Kensington in January 2013. Ellen lives peacefully on the shores of Lake Ontario with her husband and three dogs, where she loves to cook, watch movies, garden, and spend time with her granddaughters. She would love to have you join her on Facebook, www.facebook.com/EllenMarieWisemanAuthor, Twitter, @EllenMarieWise and on her web site: www.ellenmariewiseman.com

Book Description:

A deeply moving and masterfully written story of human resilience and enduring love, The Plum Tree follows a young German woman through the chaos of World War II and its aftermath.
"Bloom where you're planted," is the advice Christine Bolz receives from her beloved Oma. But seventeen-year-old domestic Christine knows there is a whole world waiting beyond her small German village. It's a world she's begun to glimpse through music, books--and through Isaac Bauerman, the cultured son of the wealthy Jewish family she works for. 
Yet the future she and Isaac dream of sharing faces greater challenges than their difference in stations. In the fall of 1938, Germany is changing rapidly under Hitler's regime. Anti-Jewish posters are everywhere, dissenting talk is silenced, and a new law forbids Christine from returning to her job--and from having any relationship with Isaac. In the months and years that follow, Christine will confront the Gestapo's wrath and the horrors of Dachau, desperate to be with the man she loves, to survive--and finally, to speak out. 
Set against the backdrop of the German homefront, this is an unforgettable novel of courage and resolve, of the inhumanity of war, and the heartbreak and hope left in its wake. 

My Thoughts:

From the moment I heard of this book, I was determined to read it. Rarely do I buy books anymore; usually I wait for them to show up at the library. For whatever reason, my library did not buy a copy so I went out and bought “The Plum Tree.” Anymore, it is a rare thing for a novel and its author to be so accurate in her research during that dark period in history. I’ve read my share of fiction set in the Holocaust and WWII and it is generally the lack of understanding of that period that drives me crazy and makes me throw the book down in disgust. Well, WWII enthusiasts and Holocaust experts, you need not fear “The Plum Tree.” Not only is this book entertaining, the author knows what she is writing about. Aside from all of that, I found it refreshing that it was the heroine, Christine, who was the strong one in the relationship. I don’t mean to imply that Isaac was weak, but he was placed in a difficult position and was stripped of his power. Without giving away the plot, be rest assured that Christine is not one to give up in the face of adversity. 

The One Without a Title

August has slipped by me and this blog has been neglected. Even now I can’t think of much to write about.

WIP #2 has been revised and revamped, with no avail. It is a little sad because I love it and the characters. Have only had one request for the full manuscript and another request for the first five pages. Both ended in rejections. None of the agents want to touch it. In hindsight, I had much better luck with WIP #1. But I’m not devastated. My latest project has me distracted and is my consolation. I actually sent off a query for it, just as a test to see what response it would receive. It was a rejection, of course, but the agent encouraged me to send it to her associate at that agency. It needs quite a bit of polishing, but at least she didn’t say it had “potential.” I’ve heard that phrase so many times that I loathe it now. May that word be forever banished from my vocabulary. (Just kidding.)

Newest developments around here? My family and I have upgraded to mobile phones and we have become addicted to them. Between the phones, DVR and our own computers, we have entered into the 21^st century.

All for now!

When in Rome…

“Give thanks for the fullness of the days spent together, the friends that we pray will be with us forever, the feelings we've shared, the food and good fun, with faith that God's blessings have only begun. Amen.”- Dutch Cafe in Kokomo, Indiana

I think that sums up my recent feelings. I went to visit my Aunts’ in Kokomo last week. I wasn’t sure I could do it, anxiety-wise, but I went and had a wonderful time. Yes, there were panic attacks, but on the whole, I did really well. They showed me around their home town and I was able to bask in my love for my state.

They had a big surprise for me. I was totally clueless on what they had planned. On July 22^nd they finally told me what they had in store. We were going to Gene Stratton Porter’s home in Rome, Indiana, on Silvan Lake. 

For those unfamiliar with Porter, she is a local Hoosier author and was famous in her own right. Actually she was more than just an author. She was a naturalist, preservationist, photographer, musician, architect, etc. I had always wanted to see her Cabin in Wildflower Woods. She was an environmentalist before such a thing was popular. Porter was a woman ahead of her time. In her book, “A Girl of the Limberlost,” there is a character called the Bird Woman. Clearly she based the character on herself.

It took a couple hours to travel up there but the wait was well worth it. The wooded area near Silvan Lake was serene; the blue waters shimmered as they rippled beneath the breeze. The leaves of trees, some a couple hundred years old, rustled and birds made music for us. 

No wonder Porter loved it there. I more than wanted to lose myself in that magical place.

I was able to tour Porter’s house and discuss the author with the tour guide fairly intelligently, since I had read five of Porter’s books and a biography on her. Everything about her house paid homage to nature: the windows were perfectly situated to look out at the lake while she wrote at her desk. 

In one back room she managed a makeshift greenhouse.  Another tiny room was sealed off by itself and the window painted red, to be used solely for a dark room.

When the tour concluded, my aunt and I walked up to Porter’s monument (she shares it with her daughter) and paid our respects, then the three of us headed to the gift shop. Naturally we had to buy our share of souvenirs.

Our visit to Rome, Indiana had come to an end and we had to head back to Kokomo. We agreed that if we ever had the money, we would buy a house on the lake and move there. Until then we can only visit, possibly vacation there and daydream about it.

To see more photos of my trip to Gene Stratton Porter's Home, check out my Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/veronicaleighbooks.

Sagamore of the Wabash

What is “Sagamore of the Wabash?” I had never heard of it before May 30^th. It is an award created by the state of Indiana and is the highest honor in this state. In the past, it has been bestowed upon “astronauts, presidents, ambassadors, artists, musicians, politicians, and citizens who have contributed greatly to Hoosier heritage.” For more information, check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sagamore_of_the_Wabash.

Since my family and I have started attending Hope of Israel, a Messianic church, a few of the members invited us to the ceremony honoring Dr. Chaim Weizmann. Who is Chaim Weizmann? He was a chemist who developed a new technique for industrial fermentation in the production of acetone. He and his associates established Commercial Solvents Corporation right here in Terre Haute, Indiana (my great-aunt actually worked there). His discovery led to the Allied victories of WWI and WWII. He was later selected to be Israel’s first president in 1948 and served until his death in 1952.

The C.A.N.D.L.E.S. Museum hosted the ceremony. Eva Mozes-Kor is one of the museums’ founders and author of the book, “Echoes of Auschwitz.” She and her sister Miriam were Holocaust survivors and were one of the many pairs of twins tested on in Auschwitz by the infamous Dr. Menegele, during WWII. She has made trips back to Auschwitz and publicly announced that she has forgiven Dr. Mengele and the Nazis for their sadistic treatment.

Indiana Governor Mike Pence, Indiana Congressman Larry Buschon and Terre Haute’s mayor Duke Bennet were present, with the governor presenting the award posthumously to Dr. Chaim Weizman.

Towards the end of Pence’s speech, he said that he had a special announcement… that Eva Mozes Kor was also a recipient of the Sagamore award! Applause was plentiful. No one deserves the award more than Kor.

I was happy to witness this historic event, even though I didn’t have the opportunity to meet Kor or any politician there (we had to leave early). Years ago, I went to the old museum and had the honor of listening to Michael Kor, Eva’s husband, speak. Since then the C.A.N.D.L.E.S. museum had to rebuild due to a fire (intentionally set), so it was nice to see how amazing this new building is. We live only a mile or so from the museum, so maybe within the next few weeks we can get over there again and look around a bit more. I did have a great chat with a gentleman who lived in Germany as a young man and escaped before it was too late. He and his family came here to America and he later served in WWII.

Until next time!

Days of Our Lives

Don’t worry, this is not a post about the soap opera; it’s just a cheesy title for this entry.

Been busy the last few weeks and have many entries to post. One that is way over due, about Eva Mozes Kor and an event hosted at the C.A.N.D.L.E.S. museum. Maybe I can put that entry up early next week. Awesome pictures will be included.

Haven’t written much this week in regards to my novels. Which is okay; it’s good to take a break now and then and let the creative juices simmer. Close friends of ours asked me to babysit their granddaughter this week and help out with the housework. These folks- I love them completely and would do anything for them, but I do so appreciate getting paid. This is only for a week, but I’ve been praying for a “job.” I consider this also a test for my endurance, anxiety wise. I am so high strung/shy and backwards/OCD that I wasn’t sure I could hold down a job. But God knows our strengths and our limitations better than we do.  

So, I have been spending my days with a little girl, who I consider like a niece. Only God knows if I will ever have children of my own (it’s doesn’t look like it); I’m not overly maternal. I sort of consider motherhood a calling, the way the priesthood/church/mission field is and I have yet to receive that call. Still, there is no sweeter feeling than a pair of small, thin arms wrapped around my neck. And nothing makes me smile more than a childlike giggle. Nothing breaks my heart melt more than when she is hurt and needs to be held and comforted. This is probably the most difficult job I have ever had, but above all, the best.

Meanwhile, we are having work done on our property. A privacy fence now encloses our backyard, that way we will feel more protected, our furry babies will have more freedom and it will keep the lurkers out (druggy neighbors, nosy neighbors, animal abusers, trash pickers, etc.). It has gone smoothly for the most part, until yesterday. My sister had a lot to deal with due to a certain person. Won’t go into it, because it’s not really worth mentioning or harping on. Hopefully the next few days will go better for her.

This Saturday, my Mom, aunt, sister and I go to lay flowers on the graves. It’s overdue, but better late than never. We haven’t seen Dad’s grave since Thanksgiving. We bought special black and orange silk flowers for him; black and orange in honor of his high school, Gerstmeyer (those were the school colors). It will be bittersweet, I’m sure.

Until next time…

What Have We Done?

When asked, “What religion and/or denomination are you?” I would usually reply “Christian and/or Independent Protestant.” Over the years we have attended a slew of churches: Independent, Baptist, Alliance, Pentecostal, Methodist… you get the picture. Where we felt God lead, we followed. Almost four years ago, for the fun of it, my family and I visited a Messianic Synagogue a couple times and had a blast. Our weekends were pretty jam-packed and we were members of a Baptist church at the time, so we didn’t go back.

About a year and a half ago we left that Baptist church and have been on the lookout for another place to worship. Twice we thought we found what we were looking for but after six months or so we went our separate ways. In our town, churches are slim pickin’s. There are the mega churches, the wanna-be mega churches and maybe five teeny-tiny ones.

Where to go, we asked ourselves. Then we remembered the Messianic Synagogue that we visited a while ago. We had to rearrange our schedules but decided to try it again. It was a little bit different from the previous time; they met in the basement instead of the sanctuary (a Methodist church lends their building to them) and they have a different Rabstor (Rabbi/Pastor) but we liked it. The Shofar is blown. Men and woman both wear the Tallit (Jewish prayer shawl). Blessings are given to the children. Messianic songs are sung and prayers are said first in Hebrew, then in English.

My family and I- we’re not Jewish. We speculate we may have Jewish heritage, but none of that has been proven. We are very much Gentile, if you catch my drift. Yet, I have always been drawn to Judaism and Jewish history. At first I only read about the religion for a novel I was writing, but now it fascinates me. I always thought that if I didn’t believe in Jesus, I would convert to Judaism.

So, I guess this Messianic Synagogue gives me the best of both worlds. Jesus is the center of it all and it is Jewish. I hope to post more about our adventures in regards to this new way of worshiping.

My Strange Addiction

My hands tremor, my eyes bulge and are bloodshot. I stagger about, desperate for another fix. I scrounge through all of my stashes, become irritable because they are gone and I lash out at those I love most. I must bide my time before I can go get my drug of choice and I begin to convulse as I go through withdrawal. My eyes cross and I grit my teeth. Foam puffs out of my mouth. People ask if I have rabies.

I must endure this… just a little longer.

Yes, it’s true. Even we Christians fall prey to temptations and get wrapped up in dirty, foul sins. For years I lived in denial and refused to admit that I had a problem. I would make promises, vows and sacred oaths that I would never, ever do it again. I could go a couple weeks without it but inevitably I would break down. It would begin with snitching here and there and escalade to full-blown consumption.

Ah, I am again at peace. Yes, I indulged. I can’t deny it; the warm fuzzy feeling I get chases away all evidence of my previous agitations. As a Christian, I must be open and honest about my shortcomings. Please, do not judge me. We all have crosses that we must bear.

Now is the moment of truth. Here is MY STRANGE ADDITICTION.

Pray for me, oh, please pray for me!