EAST OF APPLE GLEN

The Germ of an Idea

My first book Hawks Nest Chronicles: Good News from Osceola, Iowa emerged from the seed of an idea. As a new pastor, I found myself preaching a bunch of thou shalts and thou shalt nots as though I had the authority of a Moses. . . or Charlton Heston. Failing to make much of a connection with my congregation, I tried a new tack: following Jesus’ example of telling stories about people. And thus were born Herb, Emma, Pastor Bob, along with their friends, all seeking to live more faithfully in the messiness that peculiarizes our lives. This seed grew into a collection of sermons delivered over fifteen years, and from there into a novel in short stories. If you’ve read Hawks Nest Chronicles, I hope you enjoyed it.

In contrast, East of Apple Glen began as an ugly germ. I became aware of a sickness in the community where I was local church pastor, a sickness of sexual exploitation enshrouded in a conspiracy of silence. Even after leaving to pastor a new church, the germ that I detected could not be wiped from my memory. It demanded to be written. It was not mine to possess, but given to me to share.  

Thus my first question was what genre to use?

I considered a nonfiction article for publication in hopes that shedding light upon the evil would bring it to an end. I considered a memoir which would have allowed me to share my feelings, and how I was changed by what I witnessed.

Instead I chose to write a novel, freeing me to go beyond the particular to the universal, to go beyond the facts of what happened to grapple with the truth. 

Given that choice, there was then the question of how to set up various points of tension and contention. I began with my protagonist Nathan being notified by the police chief in his home town that his mother and grandmother had died over night—his mother in a fall and his grandmother of some medical issue. Then there was the creation of Nathan’s backstory and his relationship with his next door neighbors. These issues are foremost on Nathan’s mind as he returns to Apple Glen to bury Mom and Gram.

So far, there’s nothing original happening. People fall off roofs every day or they suffer an accident. People die of diabetes and other diseases. People don’t always have carefree childhoods. People do bad things to others. And yet, I hope readers will dig in and struggle with how my characters deal with the abuse and afflictions, not in the sense of overcoming, but in the desire to get “beyond” (the term I use in the book).

I don’t pretend that my characters’ actions are the best way of responding to their trauma. Instead I wanted to present ways in which decisions evolve according to the people, places, and situations that exist and to portray the difficulty of the process. And I especially want readers to apprehend a hope that one is able to get beyond, or at least move toward “beyonding” when one there are others to listen, to hear, to be alongside.

We tend to believe that we live in a democracy, that we have shared values and morals. And yet, how often are we manipulated by the power of one, as I call it: a situation in which one person—or small group of people—can stifle the desires of a vast majority? I’ve seen it happen in congregations. I think many of us have seen it in organizations to which we belong. We’ve certainly seen it in politics. I wanted to call attention to that power dynamic and to render a response through my characters.

Apple Glen is a fictional community set in rural Ohio. I was first introduced to this part of the world by Sherwood Anderson in his acclaimed book Winesburg, Ohio, a collection of short stories about the strange inhabitants of a small Midwestern town. Sent to a similar Ohio community to be their local church pastor, I found its inhabitants to be every bit as strange as those in Sherwood’s creation. . . and no doubt they found this second career pastor with urban roots and three college degrees to be just as, well, strange.

A wrinkle in my book is the inclusion of Amish characters. Broadly speaking, Ohio Amish are Old Order Mennonites who trace the their roots back through Pennsylvania to 18th century Switzerland. They are people bound by tradition, who dress plainly and reject many modern technologies such as automobiles and electricity. And yet, if portrayed in all their human complexity, Amish people are just as vulnerable to succumbing to the temptations of sex, alcohol, and fast cars in the same way as we English (the term Amish use for non-Amish people, regardless of race or faith or country of origin). 

The comparison between the two groups ends, however, when it comes to the Amish commitment to cohesion within the family unit and the practice of meidung or shunning. To me, I found those customs to be diametrically opposed to each other: one represents radical inclusion, the other to radical exclusion. I wanted to bring that specific tension front and center to readers, in addition to the stresses between English and Amish as they seek to co-exist in a small, insular community.

I have grappled with how to characterize the sub-genre of East of Apple Glen. Is it a thriller? A mystery? Is it a Bildungsroman—that’s a nickel word for “coming of age”? After much reflection, I have concluded that my story is one of Genesis, a story of beginnings. 

My protagonist Nathan must decide whether to be a truth teller, to take a public stand, in defending the goodness that characterized his mother and grandmother, or to let their memories be buried in lies. His lifelong friend Robbye must decide whether to remain imprisoned by what happened to her in high school or go beyond and be liberated from her past. The Amish women of the Salt Creek District of Apple Glen must decide whether to claim an authority and speak up or to follow a traditional Biblical injunction of keeping silent. Indeed the townspeople must decide whether to stay captive to the what has been or to create a new future. 

In East of Apple Glen, Nathan must deal with three issues competing for his attention: grief over the loss of his mother and grandmother, all those childhood ghosts that haunt him, and corruption in his home town. It is within this vortex that we join Nathan as he pursues the truth about the present and the truth about his past.

I hope you appreciate, if not enjoy, the journey.

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