AUTHOR’S NOTE

History is the rough draft. Our minds do not easily assimilate its raw form. It is messy, often chaotic. We yearn for catharsis, and that is a matter of form as well as content.

A good historical novel differs from most good “narrative nonfiction” in three respects: gaps in the historical record are filled in; more emphasis is placed on subjective human experience; dialogue and thoughts are provided. Some historical novelists place a premium on entertainment value, others on authenticity, yet others on style. I think of all these aspects as interconnected and consider it my obligation to value them equally. Similarly, some write intimate novels that just happen to be set in the past, while others write epic novels that fill broad tableaux with names and intersecting story lines. Again, I try to provide both the small frame and the context, but in a streamlined and concise way.

The job of the historical novelist is to comb out the noise, find the dramatic arc, and shape events into a psychologically and emotionally cogent argument. Inevitably, this involves some reorganization of the raw material. I strive to modify the order of events as minimally as possible. However, storytelling remains paramount. As a result I have had to shift some events. Among these modifications:

Roanoke, Virginia, January 6, 2020