Interview with historical fiction author Peter D Brown

Author Peter D Brown chats with me about his new historical fiction, I Am Jayvyn.

Bio:
Peter D. Brown is a Maine-based author of historical fiction with a deep interest in social justice. Readers will be challenged to confront uncomfortable truths and engage with complexities of the human experience.
Through his work, Peter hopes to promote thoughtful conversations about the enduring impact of history on contemporary society.

Welcome, Peter. Please tell us about your current release.
I Am Jayvyn tells the story of a 12-year-old Jola boy taken from his village by slavers in 1710. Since his tribe is reclusive, subsistent, and avoids contact or conflict with other tribes, he has no knowledge of white people or the slave trade. As well, he doesn’t speak any languages other than his own.

He is separated from his family and tribe, chained to a boy from a tribe he doesn’t know, and fastened on his back to a platform in the dark hold of a ship with only inches between his nose and the ceiling.

He has no idea why he’s been taken, where he’s going, or who these white-skinned people are.

The story unfolds for the reader as it unfolds for the protagonist. Jayvyn has many more questions than answers, and that’s how I wanted the reader to experience the story—from a mind that is naive and innocent to the corruption human beings are capable of—creating many opportunities for both him and the reader to examine and contemplate the virtues and flaws of humanity as they are revealed.

The story follows his entire life, across the Middle Passage, through ‘seasoning’ on a sugar plantation in Barbados, to his life on a rice plantation in South Carolina.

What inspired you to write this book?
When the FL Board of Education announced it was changing the standards for teaching Black History, essentially distorting and whitewashing it, to ‘present a more balanced version’ to its students, my reaction was to research and write what the experience of slavery was really like, imagining it through the eyes and experiences of its victims.

I’ll add that today, 18 states have laws banning discussions involving the history of racism in classrooms, and 5 more have similar laws in the process of being passed. Most of us are aware that books about racism and civil rights are currently being pulled from libraries across the country.

I wish my book had come out years ago. History has to be preserved as it was, warts and all.

Excerpt from I Am Jayvyn:
Quickening his pace, Jayvyn rounded the familiar bend signaling he’d soon be nearing his village. The sun had come up above the horizon now. Fresh dew sparkled the low-lying vegetation, refracting the sun’s rays in quick flashes of colored light, like so many jewels scattered across the crisp, clean forest floor.

As he neared, Jayvyn heard what, at first, he took to be the sound of waking chatter and bustle from his village. But as he drew closer, something didn’t feel right; things didn’t sound normal. He heard yelling, screaming, and unusual voices. Heavy objects cracked and thumped; men of his village shouted urgently; women and children screamed. An explosion ripped the air. He smelled smoke—not the sort that came from the morning fires, but different—acrid and much thicker.

Slowing his pace, his peaceful feeling quickly became replaced with mounting fear and anxiety. Something is terribly wrong! Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he crept slowly along the remaining section of trail. Indistinct shadows of men flashed and darted past open spaces in the foliage. Terrified shrieks erupted from his tranquil village.

Leaving the trail, Jayvyn hid in the bush at the edge of the clearing. Men he’d never seen before swarmed through the huts, tackling everyone—friends, mothers, fathers, uncles, elders—all of them! Fire and smoke leapt through thatched roofs. Some of the village men desperately tried to protect the others.

He looked over to his family’s hut and saw his father, whom he’d never known to be a fighter, madly wield his hoe at an attacker. His father hit the man, knocking him to the ground. Suddenly, from behind, a heavy knife fell, slicing deeply into his father’s shoulder.

Jayvyn knelt, paralyzed with fear as his father fell to the ground, blood running heavily from the wound. He looked on helplessly as his father tried to roll over and face his attacker, but the large blade came down, again and again, indiscriminately slashing his father until he lay still, a dark crimson ring blooming across the dirt.

His mother screamed.

She was being dragged, bruised and dirty, by her hair. His four-year-old sister, Ifetayo, cried hysterically as she, too, was pulled along by one arm. It was too much for his twelve-year-old eyes. Jayvyn couldn’t move for the terror he felt. What is happening?

A sudden jolt knocked him on his side, a massive boot landing heavily on his neck. He hadn’t heard or seen the man approach from his left. He looked up to see a pale face ringed in matted beard. It bristled with menace—teeth clenched, eyes glaring like a wild beast. This man was a demon, like nothing Jayvyn had ever seen before. His hair was tan and his skin white, almost the shade of the moon.

The man jerked him to his feet, painfully twisting his arm behind his back. He tried to resist, but the man’s grip was like iron; he was much too strong. Jayvyn fought for his footing, thorns tearing at his flesh as he was dragged roughly from the bush.

What exciting project are you working on next?
I do have another project in the works, but in its infancy, so I’d rather not disclose it now. But stay tuned!

When did you first consider yourself a writer?
As a kid in grade school, I loved to write short stories. It never really stopped. Although this is my first published book, I’ve always enjoyed writing in some capacity.

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?
Being retired now, I do write full time. My ‘workday,’ if that’s what you’d like to call it, involves 3 things:

time to take in the world around me with quietly contemplation, abundant reading, and ultimately some writing, but the last part is never forced. 

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
Having plenty of unobstructed headspace is important, so if it’s not there, I’ll take a walk, or do something else to help restore that before I try writing. Also, a little deep breathing is good. Usually, before I attack the keyboard, I’ll just sit for a few minutes to become centered.

Also, reading a good chunk of whatever I last wrote is really important before plowing ahead into new territory.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
A professional tree fort builder, undersea explorer, and flier of experimental aircraft of my own design.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
When an idea moves you, write about it. Don’t wait for the idea to develop, don’t wait for the details to materialize, or it will be gone. If it moves you, don’t wait until you’re in the right place; find something, anything, to write on and start writing. You don’t have to finish it; you only have to start. The rest will come later.

Links:
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