How The Toppled Ash began

Bringing this book to fruition has taken nearly twenty-five years. During that period, I spent stretches of time working in Europe: England, Ireland, Germany, Holland and Wales, as well as on the East Coast several times a year. I was once asked if juggling so many “interruptions” had been a hindrance to my writing. Surprised by the question, and by the idea of “interruptions,” I pondered it briefly. The answer was: No. 

Many of the different places where I worked were in the countryside with sweeping views of surrounding fields and swaths of forest. The settings themselves still linger, remarkably fresh, within me. Wooded landscapes, seasonal wildflowers among hedgerows, the sound of creeks, and pastures of sheep – made indelible imprints which settled into the archives of my memory. As it happens, one of these imprints, from about twenty years ago, was the look of ash trees along a river near the North Sea. 

But of all these places, it was my time at a guest house in Wales, with its prospect of the Brecon Beacons, its verdant richness, and the many illuminating conversations with my generous hosts which deeply touched me. And thus, deeply influenced my writing. In The Toppled Ash, you will find bracken fields, a solitary tree with lobed leaves spinning slantwise to the ground, tufts of ragged sheep’s wool caught on shrubs, stepping stones across a river. And at the edge of a cemetery, an immense yew tree with its hollow core. Each of these descriptions is taken directly from my walks along the paths and pastures in the Welsh countryside. 

This book is set in the mid-1800’s in four fictional villages on the Scandinavian coast. When asked why I chose the Scandinavian coast, I had no simple answer, but thought it might be in honor of my Swedish-Norwegian ancestry. It would be so easy to credit my Nordic genes! However, as I continued to ponder my choice for the setting of these Villages, what I can say, more truthfully, is this: The setting chose itself. Yes. Given the wide range of vistas and details I had absorbed, the setting chose itself. And then, the setting itself drew forth the characters of the villagers living there.

Recently, when I came upon some of my short stories and fables tucked away in a forgotten file, I discovered what I call “seed thoughts” embedded in them. A few of these very early, seemingly lost “seed thoughts” had not faded, but taken root over time, now finding a much wider expression in the book. But even more of an overall influence were the many poems I’ve written throughout my life which not only rose from, but helped express, my way of seeing this world.

The earliest versions of this book led one way and then another. And then another. Each vision and revision was another step – leading to a landing. And that final landing is now established as my final edit. And here we are. Thus, over time, the hearts and souls of these villagers ripened and grew richer. As did mine. It was the absences, my time away from my desk and away from the familiar – which allowed my writing to deepen, to become more subtle, more attuned, and lyrical. There were no interruptions.