Recently, at a stake conference, Elder Russell M. Nelson quoted the prophet as saying, "The future is as bright as our faith." This is a theme worth examining at this time of the year and at this time in the Earth’s history. All but the most pure-hearted among us are a little stressed at this season, trying to live up to expectations. And the news seems daily more calamitous. However, always on a search for hope, I have been studying various addresses by the brethren in great detail. A theme emerges in nearly every one. It has to do with remembrance and faith.

What is the greatest light?

Not only should we remember the good times, but we should analyze how they came to be. For example, look at the greatest gift we have—the miracle of the atonement and the resurrection of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer. We tend to use those words almost casually, as part of a formula when referring to our Elder Brother. However, to be rescued from evil, to have our sins wiped clean, and to be redeemed so that we can once again embrace our Heavenly Father with pure hearts, is the greatest hope of mankind. It is indeed the "perfect brightness of hope" that Nephi talks about in the Book of Mormon.

However, what was the price of that gift? Christ’s undeserved, terrible, and unimaginable suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane. Elder Merrill J. Bateman explained to us in a stake conference that the Savior didn’t just suffer for generic sin of mankind as a lump, but that each of us actually passed before Him, scarred with pain and muddied by sin. In some kind of sacred, metaphysical way that we cannot comprehend, He took the suffering and sin away from each of us and placed it on His back, because He knew we couldn’t go forward thus crippled. Being more concerned with us than with himself, He knew that He could bear it, if He just kept true and drew strength to the God who had sired him. He was tried to the greatest extent of his nature and ability. He cried out for relief, at least once that we know of, but then regrouped and bowed once more in submission. Ultimately, after inexplicable agony, He was crucified, and rent the veil between Earth and Heaven in this great atoning act. Surely, nothing was ever more bright and miraculous than His resurrection! It wasn’t just that He conquered death, it was a sign that sin no longer needed to be spiritually deadly for us. Sin was literally killed and went down into the grave with the Savior. But He was resurrected clean and pure! By doing so, He gave us the chance to have the same experience.

What if we don’t understand?

Another example, also quite illustrative for us as mortals, is Abraham. All his hope, promise, and love was in his son Isaac. The entire Abrahamic covenant of celestial marriage and eternal increase for all of his posterity was contained in Isaac, the miracle child of his old age. And yet, he was commanded to place that miracle child of destiny on the altar and slay him! How could he understand this? What part did this sacrifice play in Jehovah’s great plan? It seemed to Abraham that such an act would destroy it! Not only that, but Abraham himself had been placed on the altar, threatened with death by his own idol-worshipping earthly father in a ceremony that was abominable to this same God. But, because Abraham, like Jesus Christ, was entirely submissive, he endured that unspeakable pain and bewilderment and prepared to follow this commandment. Can you imagine his joy when the Lord stayed his hand at the last moment?

King Benjamin tells us that the only way we can "become a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord" is to "become as a little child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon [us] …"

(Mosiah 3:19)

This is a telling scripture. Chapter 26 in the Gospel Principles manual states " through sacrifice can we become worthy to live in the presence of God. Only through sacrifice can we enjoy eternal life. Many who have lived before us have sacrificed all they had. We must be willing to do the same if we would earn the rich reward they enjoy.

We may not be asked to sacrifice all things. But like Abraham, we should be willing to sacrifice everything to become worthy to live in the presence of the Lord." (Emphasis added)

How do we develop the faith to be tried as Abraham?

According to the brethren’s addresses that I have researched, the key to this kind of faith is that we are tried line upon line and learn precept upon precept. This is where our remembrance becomes key. Look back at your life.

· Do you see a life of trial or a life of miracles?

· Did the trials come first or the miracles?

· When was your learning curve the most steep?

· Why does the Lord say that "faith precedes the miracle?"

Many people looking at the vast amount of trials visited upon them have felt misunderstood, picked on, abandoned by God, and harshly dealt with. If they stayed true, however, as Abraham did, as Christ did, they were finally able to see that the trials, though completely bewildering at the time, were actually the stairs to miracles.

We don’t develop Abrahamic faith in an instant. That was why the five wise virgins could not impart of their oil to the five foolish virgins. It was impossible to give a lifetime of learning by faith to another person.

For many years I suffered bi-polar depression and PTSD. There seemed to be no reason for it at all. It was a dysfunctional element in our family and in my marriage. At times, I held on to the decision to live only by the tips of my fingers. It was a trial I passed through alone, misunderstood, and without hope. However, after some quiet rebellion against the Lord, I finally followed Elder Holland’s advice ("Broken Things to Mend", Ensign, May, 2006) and put my whole life on the altar, covenanting to the Lord that I would be submissive in all things. I gave up my fears. Then after this twenty-five year trial, the miracle came. Advanced medicines were developed and put into my hands. I woke up one morning and with a deep feeling of well-being I had never known, realized that I lived in a beautiful world. The miracle had occurred, just as my strength was finally failing me.

As I looked back on my life, I could see that it had always been this way. The big things in my life: my conversion, my marriage, the births of my children, and now my healing had all come about after an intense trial of my faith, and then by way of miracles.

And this, that I might know thee, the only true God and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.

I have come to the conclusion that the steps to Abrahamic faith are a series of seemingly unsolvable and bewildering trials followed by miracles that only God could have performed. This that we may know that only God could have blessed us in this way. Each time our faith is rewarded our faith is strengthened. Remembrance of this deliverance is what buttresses our faith. The more miraculous deliverances from trial that we experience, the stronger our faith becomes, until we literally live by faith.

Is there anything more important in this life than learning to know Elohim and Jehovah? That is the whole reason we came to the earth.

When I was writing The Last Waltz, I had great trouble understanding the horrible tragedy of World War I. I didn’t know how I, a housewife in the 21^st century, could possibly understand what a hideous experience the Europeans had passed through. Then the Lord taught me an important truth which I phrased in my book as an exchange between my heroine Amalia and her faithful friend, Louisa. Amalia is reeling from the senseless death of her soldier husband the consequent suicide of her mother-in-law.

"Part of faith is not giving up hope for a better world," [Louisa] said finally.

"But life is such a bitter gift!" [Amalia]

"At the moment, it seems like it. This is a very dark passage you are in. But it would be a mistake to see that passage as your whole life. There is nothing in this world more deceptive than darkness. You think you live in a void, but actually there are colors and textures and beauty all around you."

"I don’t want to see them . . ."

"Because you thing that it will hurt."

"Yes!"

"That is the lie of the darkness." She smiled and took Amalia’s hand. "The price we pay for immortality is to know both this darkness and the light and to choose between them."

When I remember and relive the miracles in my life, I see that they could never have occurred except by the hand of God. And I also see that until I had learned the lesson from the trial that preceded each miracle, I never would have learned to know the Lord in my extremities. The purpose of life if not to find perfection or to live free of pain. The purpose of life is to choose Light and follow it, embracing it so that the darkness cannot have any hold on us in the eternities.

Thank you to all you new subscribers!  I hope my blog is fun, uplifting and useful to you! 

I just drew three names from my mixing bowl !

The big winner is Tressa!  She wins the $20 gift certificate to DB.

The two copies of Hidden Branch go to Lisa Faber and Linda Garner

Winners, please send me your snail mail address at ggvan2@gmail.com so I can mail your prizes.

As a consolation prize, I have some beautiful bookmarks for Pieces of Paris as well as a bookmark with all the Alex and Briggie book covers on it.  If you are interested in receiving one or more bookmarks, just send me your snail mail at the above address!

Friends, please visit my new website at http://ptsdweb.com.  If you know anyone with this disorder, this could be the best Christmas present you could give them.

All the Christmas Shopping is done (thank Heavens for Amazon), however the house in in turmoil because I haven’t finished decorating.  Our whole family (including our grandsons!) will be here for Christmas!  We are so excited to have a Christmas Eve pageant again for the first time since the kids have grown up.  We have a baby Jesus (Micah) and Joseph (Jack), but either my daughter or me will have to be Mary!  We need a granddaughter!  We will then have an Italian spread of meats, cheeses, fig jam, and flatbread or bread along with my special Christmas trifle (recipe below) and a dessert as yet to be determined.  After the little ones are in bed, we will put together a very challenging puzzle of the ceiling of the Sistene Chapel that I bought in Rome at the Vatican last May.

David and I will not be going abroad this year, because I have plenty of material for three books already!  We have decided to give each other a trip to Jackson Hole in the spring for our Christmas gift.

G. G.’s Christmas Trifle

• 1/2 Angel Food Cake broken into chunks
• 2 large cans of pears
• 2 large pkgs vanilla pudding (cooked)
• 2 cans cherry pie filling
• 2 pts. whipping cream (whipped)
• 1 small pkg slivered almonds

Using a glass punch bowl, crumple angel food cake into the bottom.  Pour about 1/2 the pear juice over cake.  Arrange pear halves so they show on the outside of the bowl. Pour hot cooked pudding over all.  Top with canned cherry pie filling, making sure that plenty of it shows on the outside of bowl.  Put whipping cream over all and sprinkle with almonds.  Enjoy!!!!

We all know, of course, that genealogists make the best detectives!  And we know who the best fictional genealogist is, don’t we?  Here is the complete set of my Briggie and Alex books for you to choose a gift for that special someone (your mother-in-law?) for Christmas.  They are all available on Kindle as well.

I also have some exciting news and a contest!

Exciting News!

I have a new suspense novel, Foggy With a Chance of Murder, coming out in the spring, featuring a new sleuth, Chloe Greene, who looks like a sprite, writes suspense novels set in foreign places, and packs heat which she doesn’t hesitate to use when required.  Her mother is a Texas lady with an attitude.  Add a terrorist cell, an old love and a new one (who someone is trying to kill), and you have a dangerous recipe!

More exciting news!

At this moment, I am plotting with my cohorts a new Alex and Briggie Christmas novel for ’11!

A nice interview: http://www.astorybookworld.blogspot.com/

Contest!

If you subscribe to this blog today, and leave me a comment telling me so, you will be able to enter the drawing for one of two copies of Hidden Branch, the fifth A & B adventure or a $20.00 gift certificate for Deseret Book.  If you win, You will get it in time for Christmas.  But you must act now!

Reminders of why you love Briggie:

Cankered Roots:

A split second later she heard the front door.  Whirling, Alex ran into the entryway and stared out into the night.  It was easy to see Briggie in the moonlight, her white Royals nightie, giving her the appearance of an overweight fairy as she sprinted across the lawn to her Bronco.  Another shape, this one rotund and not quite as fast, was lumbering down the driveway from the back of the house.

Briggie emerged, backside first, from the Bronco, her thirty-aught-six rifle in her hand.  Meanwhile, the rotund shape had made it into the street and was hustling across to what looked like an aged Pinto.

Her partner[Briggie] took aim, “Hands up!” she cried.

Ignoring her, the intruder opened the car door . . .

“Hey!” she yelled, running across the lawn.  The car started.

Alex heard a shot.  There was a burst of fire by the back tire.  Another shot.  “Darn,” she exclaimed as the Pinto disappeared around the corner.

Of Deadly Descent

[Briggie upon being introduced to antique wonders of Oxford, England]

“Well, Stewart [Alex’s dead first husband]what do you think?” she asked aloud.  “Is heaven as magnificent as Oxford?”

Of course, there was no one beside her in the bus but Briggie.  Clutching her duffle with unusual ferocity, Alex’s white-haired friend looked at her in reproach:  “in heaven they drive on the right side of the road.”

The picture of comic terror, her white, wiry hair on end from a night passed on a train, Briggie suddenly relaxed her hold on her bag to pat Alex’s knee.  “When I picture Stewart in the spirit world, I see him pacing.”

“Look around you, Briggs! Have you ever seen any place like it?”

Gold flags glinted from the four corners of Magdalene Tower.  Though the November trees were bare, the landscape was far from stark with the college walls glowing their warm honey color in the morning light.

The bus swerved to avoid a bicyclist.

“No.” Briggie answered shortly, renewing a death grip on her belongings.

Tangled Roots

[Briggie introducing Alex’s mother to what it means to be a genealogist]

“Oh my goodness,” her mother said.  “This is getting dangerous.  Do you think we should go ahead with it?”

“It’s our business,” Briggie told her briskly.  “If it’s an inheritance deal, then something’s up with this genogram.  You say Gladys has the family Bible?” she asked Alex.

“Yes.”

“Maybe that will give us some kind of lead,” Briggie said, squinting to peer through the falling snow.  “Boy, this is getting interesting.”

Later:

Suddenly, behind her [Alex] she heard a commotion.  Everyone looked up.

The little maid was screeching as Charles and Briggie rounded the corner into the corridor.  Briggie took one look at the scene before her and raised her deer rifle, squinting into its sight.  “Hands up!” she commanded.  “Unless you want your ugly head stuffed and mounted on my living room wall.”

Poisoned Pedigree

[Alex, as she races to rescue Briggie from almost certain death]

How in the world could she bear losing Briggie?  Alex thought of her staunch freind, who had rescued her from her bottomless grief and abandonment in Scotland.  Stewart’s Scottish relatives had been so stoic and phlegmatic that Alex couldn’t pour out her grief to them.  The cold village kirk had offered no comfort.  There hadn’t been a body to mourn, or even a memorial service.  After she lost the baby, Alex had begun to waste away, not caring whether she lived or died.  One day Briggie had appeared at her bedside, and in her gruff American accent had told her she was related to Stewart.  Briggie invited her to get out of bed and try to help her prove it.  Since the, she had issued one challenge after another.  Come home to the States where you belong.  Come live with me in my house, and we’ll start a genealogy business together.  Go to my friend, Dr. Brace, and get some help for your depression.  Listen to the missionaries–they have a message that will give meaning to your life.  Go see your parents and make peace with them . . .

Hidden Branch

[Alex is just coming to from another head injury on the floor of a fugitive's house, when she gets a frantic call on her cell phone]

Briggie’s voice said, “Alex, Leon and I are both in jail in Santa Ana.  Can you come and tell these stupid cops that I didn’t steal those coins and that I didn’t steal those coins and that [ can't be a spoiler here] . . .”

“How did you wind up in jail this time?” Alex asked, exasperated.

“Leon was chasing me in his car, and I ran a couple of lights.  We were both doing about sixty in a twenty-five zone.  We both got stopped.  I thought it was my lucky day.  I told them about Leon, but as soon as they called in, the cops fount out about my arrest the other night.  Leon was claiming I had stolen the coins.  But since I claimed he was a murderer and the FBI was after him, the cops decided to take both of us in.”

“Well, at least you’re safe in jail. . . “

That’s all from Briggie and Alex until next Christmas, which gives you plenty of time to catch up on anything you’ve missed (put it on your Amazon wish list), or introduce the indefatigable Briggie to your friends and relatives! (Click on book cover to order from Amazon)

Contest ends December 6.

[This will be the homepage for a new website scheduled to be up on November 8]

I am a writer. I knew this long before I knew that I was a PTSD survivor. When I began writing the book that came to be titled The Pieces of Paris, I was in the process of learning to write "from my bones." Until that time, many events in my life were contained under a virtual lead shield. My conscious mind sent them into some dark spot inside me that I did not visit.

However, good writers are required to be emotionally honest. I had cultivated a cheerful, passive disposition, but when I began to write this book, I found myself writing a story about a deeply concealed trauma in my own life—the death of my fiancé in Vietnam. For twenty years, I had been having frequent nightmares and waking flashbacks as my nervous system mourned this heartrending loss in its own way.

As I endeavored faithfully to follow my characters through lives so interwoven with my own, I had a life-changing experience. As I sat down at the computer on what I thought was an ordinary day, I was shocked at what spewed forth from some hidden well inside me. Anger! Such anger that I had never felt anything like it in my life. It was the scene where the young man, drafted to serve in Vietnam, turns suddenly vitriolic, venting his real fears and rage on his hapless fiancée. He tells her that he is going to die—that she must get away from him, not wait, and that he is unilaterally severing their bond. He warns that if she does not leave him, she will have to watch him drown himself in the river. I wrote with tears pouring down my cheeks. Tears I had never cried for my lost love who, turning into a brutal stranger before my eyes, claimed, exactly like my character, that he would die in Vietnam.

It didn’t happen exactly like that. My ex-fiancé would endure a three-year coma, during which time I held him like a child in my arms and rained kisses and tears upon him. We cried together, his face contorted in sorrow. By the time he died, I had been married only a matter of months. Fearing disloyalty to my husband, I had never allowed myself to grieve.

I knew nothing about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I had no idea that I was a ticking time bomb. From those moments of anger in front of the computer, my rage grew alarmingly. Too late, I became a Vietnam war protester, writing a livid novel that worked all those buried feelings out into the open. My natural grieving process had been stalled on the denial setting for twenty years. Now I experienced rage followed by soul-ripping anguish and despair. As happens to my heroine, Annalisse, my one-time fiancé stalked me. I could feel his presence. I could feel him watching everything I did. I came to believe, like Annalisse, that I was living life for the two of us.

Gradually, my feelings leveled out into normal sadness that continues to this day. It wasn’t for another ten years that I learned that in writing that novel (which I decided I could not publish) I had experienced what was called "PTSD."

But that was not to be the end. In my fifties, a bigger land mine inside me exploded with crying jags that seemed to have no trigger. They went on for months and would begin any time, any place for no discernible reason. Eventually, pain that had hidden under my lead shield from the time I was a child descended upon me with a ferocity that felt like crawling naked through broken glass. The full weight of every buried horror from childhood through adolescence visited me all at once. I held onto life by only a sliver of will. For twenty years, I had been living in a depressed state, but nothing like this had ever happened.

I know now, that there were angels in attendance who saved me. Living friends held me while I wept, and people from the other side of the veil of mortality intervened, carrying me along, sheltering me from self-harm until finally my rage and my pain were spent.

I said at the beginning that I was a survivor. But, I am more than that. I am victorious! Step by step, I felt my way to forgiveness of those who had caused my long-buried pain. I could not have done this without the understanding of a Savior (or as many would say, "a higher power") who stood as a perfect protector, friend, advocate, and mediator. As I became more devout in my understanding of Him and His plan, I began to make rational sense out of the world around me. My shield finally dropped away, and I learned for the first time to trust and to truly love. That shield that had kept pain in for so long, had also kept love out.

Once I felt that love and its honey-sweet healing power–from my Savior, my husband, my family, my dear friends–all I wanted to do was share it with the world. I had no desire so great as to heal people of the pain I had experienced. My tool was my pen (or my computer, to be more accurate).

Like I said, I am a writer. Tolstoy said that the task of real art is to carry the reader inside the author’s characters to such depth, that the reader will virtually experience everything the characters do. Recently, I realized that everything I have written is related to recovery from PTSD. My series of mysteries chronicles the recovery of a woman who was rejected by her parents and then lost her husband in a terrorist attack. ( http://ggvandagriff.com )The Last Waltz: A Novel of Love and War, is a story of another heroine’s progress from a starry eyed debutante in the Vienna of 1913 through the hell of World War One and its aftermath. Although she had no control over history, she had control over her reaction to it. Changing from the inside out, she came to know and to express the deepest reaches of that love that redeems.( http://last-waltz.com)

Then it was time to do something about that ancient manuscript about the Vietnam War. It was old news by now. In the rewriting of it, to bring it into the present day with a more timely trauma, I found deeper meaning in the journey of my characters. I realized that my opening paragraph, written far before I understood it, characterized PTSD perfectly:

It was the simple things that undid her, Annalisse had discovered. Something as ordinary as the scent of lilacs when the air was heavy, a brief measure of Tchaikovsky, or a dream. A dream like the one she’d awakened from last night—so real she could smell the Paris Metro in it. Any of these things could revive in a moment the memories she’d spent the last six years burying. They crept under the leaden shield around her heart and found the small, secret place where she still had feeling.

In Pieces of Paris, Annalisse and Dennis’s trial of their marriage became, with my added understanding, an epic similar to the first chapters of Genesis. They learned, as we all must, that there is no Eden in this life. When Dennis decides to put such notions of perfectionism behind him, he chooses honest love, just as we all must if we are to find the joy mortality has to offer. Love redeems, love purifies, and love makes us fit for heaven.

And, after all that’s said and done, life’s very purpose is to shape us, using pain as a tool to enlarge our souls so that we can serve as we are served and love as we are loved.

Do not ever put your life’s journey on hold, or cut it short. The best times occur along the way, as you come to know the higher power, and how magnificent and all-changing that power can be. As you take it into your lives and do your best to emulate it, you will enter a sphere of peace in this troubled world.

I think T.S. Eliot said it better than I ever could: In order to get to where you are to where you are not, you must go through the way in which you are not.

Courage. You are not alone.

A novel of psychologically driven fiction, GG Vandagriff’s, Pieces of Paris, takes readers on a emotional ride that winds through the darkest recesses of painful memories, plunges into unexpected realities, then climbs to breathtaking vistas of understanding, forgiveness and love. 
In Pieces of Paris we see the unraveling of Annalisse, a woman who seems to have everything until dark memories she’s kept deeply buried for years claw their way to the surface, threatening to destroy everything she holds dear. 
The story opens with Annalisse, a woman in her twenties, living a quiet, normal life on a farm in the Ozarks. She is expecting her second child and is mom to three and a half year old son, Jordan. But after four and a half years of bliss she suddenly finds herself being haunted by the past. Her predictable but seemingly happy life with husband Dennis, an attorney, begins to crumble.
The first paragraph of the book reads:
It was the simple things that undid her, Annalisse had discovered. Something as ordinary as the scent of lilacs when the air was heavy, a brief measure of Tchaikovsky, or a dream. A dream like the one she’d awakened from last night – so real she could smell the Paris Metro in it. Any of these things could revive in a moment the memories she’d spent the last six years burying. They crept under the leaden shield around her heart and found the small, secret place where she still had feeling.
So begins Annalisse’s journey of facing a past she’d blocked from her reality until piece by piece, the fragments began to fit together, forcing her to face the pain she’d thought she’d covered . . . until now. 
Leaving another life behind, Annaliese finds refuge and safety in the arms of her beloved, idealistic, husband, Dennis. He is her anchor, her strength, and she puts her past behind her to be with him, and that includes moving to his idea of the Garden of Eden . . . the Ozarks. 
When he meets Annalisse, Dennis knows she is someone unique and special. Dealing with pain from his own past and a broken heart, he focuses on this beautiful woman, vastly different from his past relationship, Annalisse immediately appears to be the perfect person to heal his disillusionment and he knows they are meant to be together. 
When the flashbacks begin, Annalisse keeps them to herself—certain that telling Dennis will destroy their relationship. At the same time Dennis is battling with a controversial legal case, fighting against an industrial firm that is trying to cover up a toxic waste dump, a case that has put his family in danger. 
As each challenge grows and pushes them apart, Dennis and Annalisse both begin to wonder if their marriage is what they really wanted or expected and if the person they are with now is anything like the person they thought they married.
Vandagriff has a true gift of words and paints glorious scenes and intense emotion in this well-paced, gripping drama. This powerful story of second chances, the gift of forgiveness, and the depth of truth will resonate with readers of all ages and stations in life. 
And in the final pages we find the true meaning of the story.
“The day I met you, all I could see anywhere I looked was pain and no possibility of making a difference. You were the only bright thing, and you came just in time.”
“I couldn’t have looked very bright. Oh, Dennis.” She buried her head in his shoulder and held on to him. “You were my only bright thing, too. How have we gotten this far with all these ridiculous expectations of each other?”
Remembering the Twenty-third Psalm he was silent, stroking her hair.
“There’s only one Savior,” Dennis told her.
One of the best ways to truly understand this story is to understand the author, GG Vandagriff. I was able to interview her and ask her about her experiences that lead up to writing this book.
M. Bell: Where did you get the idea for the book? 
GG Vandagriff: It was a combination of 3 very disparate things: 1.) A funny incident when we went canoeing in the Ozarks and David was sitting in the back and I was in the front. He kept yelling “paddle on the right” “paddle on the left”. I looked back and he wasn’t paddling at all! I started laughing at him, because he was so earnest and worried we were going to capsize. We did! We swam in that muddy, cow dung infested creek and he lost his wallet. I have rarely laughed so hard, but even at this distance, he still doesn’t think it was funny. In my writer’s mind, I thought of what a wonderful parody this was of our marriage. Paddle on the Right was the name of the story for years, until I found out what the book was really about, and had to remove the scene. 2.) The Tchaikovsky violin concerto, which I am listening to as I write this. To me, it is the most sublime piece of music written, and is so evocative of every human motion. I was so in love with it, that it veritably created Jules and his whole life and character as he appears in the book. Everything about Jules is in that concerto, except that the concerto ends triumphantly. I hope some day to meet Tchaikovsky (and Tolstoy). 3.) An incident in my doctor’s office that started me thinking: he was the same age and had been a Vietnam War protestor. So had David. I had lost my fiancé in the war. How had it affected our later lives? How did the three of us end up in the Ozarks? Did our past anger and helplessness at the government’s actions have anything to do with our “searching for Eden”? In my doctor’s case, he had graduated at the top of his class and chose to work in a small rural town where he could really help people. Ditto for David, only he was a lawyer. I just wanted to raise my children to be safe. When you read the book, you will definitely recognize all of us: Dr. Gregory, Dennis, and Annalisse. Because the Vietnam War is so far in the past, that eventually went out of the book, as it aged.
M. Bell: What was the research process for this story like? How long did you spend gathering information? 
GG Vandagriff: The research was all internal. I had to go through PTSD and then discover what was wrong with me and how to put it behind me. I was actually having PTSD over my fiancé that was killed in the war. It was very painful. But, as I said the war is not in the book. The PTSD is, however, and I have read a lot about it. The places in the book: I lived in a town that is the model for Blue Creek for sixteen years, I studied near Vienna for six months, and I have visited Paris on many occasions, starting when I was sixteen.
M. Bell: Given that this book is so personal, what was the writing process like for you?
GG Vandagriff: This book taught me everything I know about writing classic fiction. I worked closely with a free-lance editor who operated like a gem cutter. She saw the brilliance in the story, and cut away all the dross, inspiring me to write more cleanly. She even recognized things that I hadn’t realized about the story and its development and so it switched into an entirely different mode. It went from being semi-humorous (I always hide my true feelings in humor) into a book about the “hard questions” of life and marriage, and the triumph of truth over the evil that would separate husbands and wives.
M. Bell: What is the theme of the story and why did you write about it? 
GG Vandagriff: The theme of the story is the difference between narcissistic love (the feeling we have when we think, “ah this person was created just for ME) and real love, when you would sacrifice almost anything in Christlike love for your spouse. That is a big jump, and takes a complex story crafted with much difficulty to tell. It also takes a lifetime of experience.
M. Bell: What do you want readers to get from this story? 
GG Vandagriff: I am hoping that they will give more thought to their own marriages, deconstructing them to the basics, and then, with the help of the Savior, reconstructing them into Celestial marriages.

Every marriage is a web of complication with many aspects that go into weaving the fine interlocking thread.  Our genetic makeup as well as our childhood years and past relationships combine to create the role we play in the give-and-take of a marital relationship.
When we first meet our spouses-to-be, we might be wearing rose-colored glasses so to speak. We might fall in love with the person we “think” they are. We might share our backgrounds, including our past relationships, but none of our personal history matters much to the person we are in love with. We have connected. We have become soul mates. And everything from this point on is just about us, just about our two-person universe, and nothing from the past can ever intrude.

Until the flashbacks start.

Annalisse has been married for several years to Dennis. They have a young boy and another child on the way. When Annalisse first met Dennis, she saw him as her saving anchor to root her into a stable reality, opposite of her previous stormy relationship. She clings to him as a boat in stormy waters relies on its anchor. She wants a change—a massive change, and that includes locking her past away.

Dennis knows he’s met someone unique and special when he is set up with Annalisse. A past relationship has broken his heart, but Annalisse is vastly different. She is stoic, she is trustworthy, and she is everything he needs to heal his heart. There is no question that they are meant to be together, and Annalisse will always be his one and only.
Their relationship collides when Annalisse starts to experience painful flashbacks into her past, crippling her from being content with her current married life. The pain is so intense, it threatens to pull Annalisse from all that she loves. She is too afraid to confide in her husband—sure that it will destroy their relationship. While Dennis is trying to understand his wife’s changed behavior, he is fighting against an industrial firm that is trying to cover up a toxic waste dump.

GG Vandagriff once again explores the intensity of human emotion, delivering a powerful story of second chances, the gift of forgiveness, and the depth of true love. This well-crafted story is absorbing from page one and the characters powerful and relatable.
Pieces of Paris is a literary symphony, a cacophony of words that delves into the hearts of all of us, as Annalisse and Dennis fight to reestablish the rhythm of their marriage. An emotionally-engaging and unforgettable journey.

by Heather Zahn Gardner

This is the first book I have read by G.G. Vandagriff though I’ve met her briefly a couple of times at Authorpalooza events. So first off, special thanks to her and Shadow Mountain for letting me take a sneak peek at her newest novel for women.

Told through the eyes of a married couple and from two alternate points of view, Pieces of Paradise opens with Annalisse, a woman in her twenties, living on a farm in the Ozarks. She is pregnant with her second child and suddenly finds herself being haunted by the past. Her stable life with husband Dennis, a local lawyer, begins to crumble as she can’t shake memories that come in the way of flashbacks. Meanwhile, Dennis is battling with a case which stirs up controversy and puts their family in danger. His lifelong dream of an escape to Eden and a peaceful life are threatened by Annelise’s sudden change in behavior and the hot bed of unrest in his town. The two of them pull apart for the first time as a couple and both begin to wonder if their marriage is not at all what they wanted or expected. Can Annelise salvage the passion and talent she once felt without losing herself to the past? Can Dennis love her as she really is?

Pieces of Paris does a masterful job of weaving a captivating story with real life issues like manic depression and the true definition of love. It’s a book that is likely to evoke strong emotions for anyone with experience with mental illness or PTSD. She pushes buttons on some hot topics: racism and environmental clean up as well as small town politics. The book has some very tough and graphic moments as Annelise learns she has to move through the pain or her past in order to overcome it. However, in the end the overall message is one of hope and finding a center that can’t be lost. It was evident from the detail in Pieces of Paradise that Ms.Vandagriff is a highly intelligent, cultured person with a deep knowledge of psychology. (We’re excited to interview her soon!) 25 years in the making, Pieces of Paradise is a glimpse of her talent. Visit her website at http://ggvandagriffblog.com/ to learn about her other published works and upcoming events.

Interview:  Where did the idea behind Pieces of Paris come from? GG: I get ideas from the strangest places. This one started with Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto which fills me to overflowing with passion. The passion spilled into the book. Then there was the PTSD. I didn’t know what it was, but I had it. I had shut off my feelings twenty years before when my fiancé was killed in Vietnam. Then, when we were living in the Ozarks, my haunting began. It was pretty awful, but resolving it through writing about it helped a lot. I haven’t had to revisit that time again. My publisher convinced me to change the trigger, because Vietnam books "didn’t sell."
Was it hard to write about something so personal? It was intensely difficult. I was basically haunted for the five years it took me to write the first draft. I worked my way through a lot of anger and tender memories that made me cry. However, I have an excellent marriage and I was always cognicent of the fact that I had married the better man for me.
Do you feel you relate to any of the characters? I relate almost entirely to Annalisse, although I didn’t come from anything like her nurturing home. I would have made a terrible biologist, and I can’t even read music. However, I fell for "unsuitable" men like Jules like a ton of bricks. I also share her feelings about the town I lived in which was the model for Blue Creek. There the prejudice was against Mormons, and the ignorance and bigotry of the citizens was extremely difficult. When it turned on my children, we finally moved away.
What advice would you give others suffering from PTSD? I have had PTSD on other occasions. It is literally a Gethsemane where you feel bottled up feelings all at once. There is no way out but through. You can’t chastise yourself or try to talk yourself out of it. It’s a process and you have to go through the shock, anger, pain, and grief. Then, eventually it becomes part of your life, and you can benefit from who the Lord has made you. I could never have gone through it and come out whole without the enabling power of the Atonement. In the book, Dennis leads Annalisse to this power at the end of the book when he tells her that the way was never meant to be easy, but that that was why we had a Savior to carry us. I keep Minerva Teichert’s picture of the Savior holding the black sheep hanging in my home so I will never forget His rescue of me.
Are you musical? I can’t read a note, believe it or not. But I respond to music so passionately that it is like another language to me. Right now I am listening to The Romance of the Violin by Joshua Bell. My favorite musical compositions are: 1.) The violin concertos of Tchaicovsky, Dvorak, and Mendelssohn; 2.) The piano concertos of Rachmaninoff; 3) Mahler’s First Symphony, Shastakovich’s Fifth Symphony, and of course, Beethoven’s Ninth. 4.) Puccini’s Arias.
Are environmental and racial issues something you wanted to educate readers about or are they jsut a part of the story line? I am not any kind of radical environmentalist, however the incident in the book did happen, although thankfully no one was killed. It was extremely scary and typically irresponsible of areas where there is no law in place about the disposal of toxic waste. As far as Latinos go, I was raised by a Latina maid whom I loved fiercely. While bishop in a BYU student ward, my husband was the instigator of Latino Outreach, a program which has since been adopted formally by the Church where the Latino youth are tutored by Anglo students. It has had miraculous results. It keeps kids out of gangs and off drugs and converts them to the Gospel. Mexico is a terrible place right now (as is East LA), and I don’t blame people for wanting to come here. My philosophy is: higher fences and broader gates. I think it should be easier for all nationalities to legally gain citizenship to the U.S. We are a melting pot and my own grandfather who was an illegal immigrant from Russia at the age of 2, contributed more to society than most men I know. He was a true renaissance man.
How long did it take you to write this book? Twenty-five years on and off. I wanted it to be just right.
What advice would you give to young writers? Writing is just as much an apprenticeship as learning to play a musical instrument. It is a process that can’t be hurried or accomplished superficially. Don’t worry about getting published. That is a huge mistake. If you have talent and patiently dig deeper and deeper until you are writing "from your bones" you will have begun your apprenticeship. I strongly recommend "On Moral Fiction" by John Gardner, and "Writing Down the Bones" by Natalie Goldberg. Your apprenticeship will not be wasted. Even if you are never published, you will still be a writer.
Tell us about any research or travel you did for this book? I have been to Paris many times, I lived fifty miles from Vienna for six months and visited there often. I lived in the Ozarks for 16 years.

What other books have you written and do you have any in progress? My bibliography is as follows:

1. Non-Fiction: Voices In Your Blood: Discovering Identity Through Family History (out of print, but I am working to update it and publish it as an e-book), Deliverance from Depression: Finding Hope and Healing Through the Atonement of Christ.

2. My genealogical mysteries: Cankered Roots, Of Deadly Descent, Tangled Roots, Poisoned Pedigree, and The Hidden Branch.

3. Suspense novels: The Arthurian Omen, Foggy With a Chance of Murder (due to be published next spring)

4. Historical epic: The Last Waltz: A Novel of Love and War (winner of 2009 Whitney Award for Best Historical Fiction.)

Pieces of Paris is my first "women’s fiction," but I am now working on a four book series about a group of women who are in the same therapy group. In the first book they seek healing in Florence, the second on a cruise to the Greek Isles, the third in Provence, and the fourth in the Scottish Highlands. The books are lighter fare than either Waltz or Pieces of Paris. They deal with real issues, but there are happy moments, comic moments, as well as times of serious reflection. When I finish those four books, I would like to do the sequel to The Last Waltz, and then a time travel about a 21^st century young woman who wakes up in 16^th century Medici Florence determined to stop a murder she knows is going to happen. By then, I’ll probably have Alzheimers

5. Any events coming up? Saturday, Oct 2 from 6-8, I’ll be signing in the Ft. Union DB, my grand launch with terrific doorprizes (Pieces of Paris stylish t-shirts, books of other well-known authors, and Sterling Silver Eiffel Tower Charms) will be Oct 9 from 1-4 at the Barnes and Nobel in Orem.

Well, it’s about time to test this baby of mine.  How can it be a baby, though when it incubated for 25 years?

Yesterday, Heather Moore, Whitney award winning author of two Book of Mormon series, gave the following praise when asked for something for the DB Christmas catalog:

"Pieces of Paris by GG Vandagriff is a literary symphony, a cacophony of words that delves into the hearts of Annalisse and Dennis, as they fight to reestablish the rhythm of their marriage. An emotionally-engaging and unforgettable story."

I was overwhelmed by such praise, of course.  Writers are very insecure and never believe, really, that their writing is any good, no matter who tells them it is.

My signings for the next bit are all in place, as follows:

Saturday, Sept 18, 1-4 pm Authorpalooza at Orem Barnes and Noble.

Saturday, Sept 26, 12-2 pm Celebrating Sisterhood at Orem University Parkway Seagull

Saturday, Oct 2, 6-8 pm Ladies’ Night at Ft. Union Deseret Book

Saturday, Oct 9, 1-4 OFFICIAL LAUNCH at Orem Barnes and Noble

     Door prizes: Novels by your favorite LDS Authors and lovely black feminine "Pieces of Paris" ,

t-shirts.  Giveaways: chocolates and gorgeous bookmarks.  Special giveaways: Sterling    silver Eiffel Tower charms for those who buy Pieces of Paris and another of my books.

Hope to see you soon!

I don’t think we are at home in time.  I feel much wiser and more accomplished than I did when I was younger.  The mirror tells me I am aging.  My bones (those that have escaped replacement surgery) tell me I’m older than the hills.  But in my head I’m still 25.  Maybe when I’m resurrected I’ll be 25 in body and a hundred years old in experience.

One thing is for sure:  I’m not wasting my time.  We’ve had a wonderful two week family reunion with all our children, grandchildren, and one remaining grandparent.  Family portraits will be forthcoming.  In the last week we’ve attended a temple wedding and a baby blessing.  Pieces of Paris arrived!  Crazy Ladies has been languishing in neglect after I lopped 100 pages off the beginning.  To vote on your choice for the best 1st chapter (I need your help!) go to my website at http://ggvandagriff.com. 

Pieces has several launches planned:

19 Sept Authorpallooza evening at Orem Barnes &  Noble

Celebrate Sisterhood (the weekend before conference–place to be announced)

Ladies’ Night (Saturday Night of Conference–place to be announced)

Official Launch with doorprizes and giveaways Oct 9th at Orem Barnes & Noble

We have a stand up of Annakin Skywalker in our living room, a tent in the basement, and a little four year old running around singing the various good guy/bad guy themes from Star Wars.  Also, we have an adorable 3 month old smiling and even laughing, as well as showing his big brother he is tough as he can take mauling without alarm.

I am trying to: Finish 5th draft of Crazy Ladies

                   Begin marketing Pieces of Paris

                   Relaunching The Last Waltz

                   Trying not to lose my mind.