Novelist Charlotte Whitney chats with me today about her new release, A Tiny Piece of Blue.
Bio:
Raised on a family farm in Michigan, Charlotte Whitney is the author of historical fiction set in the rural Midwest. Just release, A Tiny Piece of Blue, is a stand-alone historical novel about a homeless teenager fighting for survival during the Great Depression. The Unveiling of Polly Forrest, a historical mystery has received three writing awards. It follows her groundbreaking novel, Threads A Depression-Era Tale, which was met with much critical acclaim and commercial success. In addition, she has authored I Dream in White, a contemporary romance, How to Win at Upwords, a nonfiction book about her favorite word game, and a self-help book, Win- Win Negotiations for Couples. She received a master’s degree in English and served as associate director of the Lloyd Scholars for Writing and the Arts at the University of Michigan. She lives in Arizona with her husband and two Labrador retrievers.
Welcome, Charlotte. Please tell us about your current release.
For fans of Kristin Hannah’s The Four Winds comes a heartwarming story of a homeless girl’s struggle to survive. . . A Tiny Piece of Blue
During the throes of the Great Depression, thirteen-year-old Silstice Trayson finds herself homeless, abandoned by her parents. Nearby, aging midwestern farmers Edna and Vernon Goetz are pillars of the community, but when do-gooder Edna takes up Silstice’s cause, Vernon digs in his heels, displaying his true nature as an ornery curmudgeon.
Theirs is a quiet-seeming community, but danger lurks beneath the bucolic façade. With so many youngsters leaving home to make it on their own, child trafficking has grown rampant, and Silstice and her two spirited young brothers soon find themselves in the sights of a ring of kidnappers that’s exploiting local children into forced labor—and worse. Meanwhile Vernon finds himself at risk of losing everything.
What inspired you to write this book?
I wanted to demonstrate the utter lack of safety nets during the Great Depression. A child could find herself homeless with nowhere to go. It makes for a fascinating story when you add an older farm couple who are divided about taking in a child abandoned by her parents.
Excerpt from A Tiny Piece of Blue:
You don’t know what it’s like to be alone until you’re handcuffed and taken to jail. At age thirteen. Gosh darn, I hadn’t even started my monthlies and my life was in ruins. Here I was, Silly Trayson, at the county jail, charged with stealing, and all I could do was cry like a baby. My eyeballs opened, and I wiped endless tears on my dress sleeves. When my sleeves were totally soaked, I used the bottom of my new flour-sack dress. Well, the dress warn’t really new. My sister Alberta outgrew it and passed it down, and it hung too long on me, so I tripped on it when I walked. I’d intended to join 4-H to learn to sew, but now I wouldn’t even be able to hem up my dress.
After my well of tears ran dry, my mind began to run wild. How many years would I spend in jail? Would anyone come visit me? Probably Alberta, but Ma certainly wouldn’t. Ma hadn’t left our house in months. She hid in the bedroom closet whenever anyone came to the door. Plus, she’d given us kids strict orders to tell vis- itors she’d gone to town. It warn’t normal behavior, but no one knew except us kids. She had no friends. Even the 4-H lady talked to Alberta, not Ma.
With my tears gone, a new feeling settled deep in my chest. A kind of sadness, loneliness, and helplessness all in one. I didn’t have a name for it—maybe it was despair. I’d been trying to learn new words, since Alberta says that’s necessary for doing well in life.
The deputy had brought me to the jail and put me in a small room without bars where he’d taken off the handcuffs and told me to stay put until he’d contacted my parents. I’d been waiting for about three hours. The deputy had come back twice to bring me water and take me to an indoor bathroom. A lot of good it would do to try to reach my parents since Pa had cleared out with the old Model T, most likely on a drinking binge with the money he’d gotten from selling a deer he’d shot and dressed. Ma would be retreating to the bedroom, saying she needed a nap.
She was a big one for telling me, “You have to fend for yourself.”
How I hated the word “fend.” As if I knew how to fend in this predicament.
The conclusion was simple: I was going to jail for a long, long time. After all, I was guilty, and I’d been caught red-handed. What started out as a simple quest to get some paper and pencils for my upcoming high school days had turned into a stupid spree. I’d walked into the one-room country school I’d attended for the past few years, and knowing where Miss Sullivan kept the supplies, I shoveled them into Ma’s burlap bag.
What exciting project are you working on next?
I’m switching eras and co-authoring a historical novel based on an actual fugitive slave family who escaped a Kentucky plantation and made their way to my hometown of Marshall, Michigan. Also fascinating is the fact that my co-author’s family was enslaved in the same Kentucky county as this family. Needless to say we both have had strong emotions researching the book.
When did you first consider yourself a writer?
I knew I was a writer when my mother asked me to ghost write recommendations for my friends who needed them for college applications and jobs.
Do you write full-time? If so, what’s your workday like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?
I usually write most of the day, taking time for exercise, dog-walking, and yoga.
What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
I always do the Connections game in the New York Times before I start writing each morning. It’s fun and, in a way, gets me in the zone.
As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
A farm wife. Ugh, now I realize I would have made a horrible farm wife.
Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
Follow your dreams. Write what you want and how you want, but always have a bevy of editors.
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