HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: A thought-provoking post today. A tough one. But the brilliant Aimie K. Runyan knew she had a terrific story. A shocking story. A heart–breaking story. A story that would be based on impossible facts.
How was she going to tell it–and make it ..real? And readable? And important?
As you'll see, it’s a challenge that would have been far too daunting for some. But after reading THE SCHOOL FOR GERMAN BRIDES, the amazing Pam Jenoff said: “This is a moving and memorable tale of sisterhood, strength, and survival, which will resonate deeply with readers of historical fiction.”
And now, Aimie tells us how she got there.
Intimacy with Evil
by Aimie K. Runyan
Sometimes a book requires an intimate relationship with evil. Perhaps you’re writing a book from the point of view of a serial killer (not the benevolent Dexter sort). Perhaps you’re writing a book from the point of view of an abusive narcissist. Or perhaps, like me, you’re writing about willing members of one of the most evil political movements in the history of mankind—the Nazi party.
World War Two fiction, which has always had a large following, is huge at the moment. So many of the books deal with the heroic people in the resistance movements in Britain and France. They’re able to show the good guys in vivid detail while the bad guys are depicted as a faceless, looming menace. It absolutely works as a storytelling device because it’s certainly the way the Nazi presence felt to many.
While working on another book, I stumbled across the history of Hitter’s bride schools; real schools throughout Germany in the 1930s and 40s designed to train women to be dutiful housewives and mothers, all the while brainwashing them with Nazi propaganda. The goal was to encourage women to have as many healthy “Aryan” babies as possible, and to raise them in the Nazi tradition so that the ideology would proliferate over generations. I knew that this needed to be the subject of a novel. And to do it right, I’d have to delve into the psyche of monsters.
It was going to be hard. It was going to be uncomfortable. It was going to be incredibly risky.
The first, and simplest rule I followed was remembering that no one, no matter how awful, is without some redeeming feature. But writing Nazis is far more fraught. I needed to humanize the characters whose beliefs were completely abhorrent. The antithesis of everything I hold dear.
My goal with The School for German Brides was to show how the evil of the Nazi ideology subtly and slowly seeped into people’s daily lives and made them either directly accountable for acts of hatred, or else complicit in them. It required me to explore them as three-dimensional people, but I was terrified that people would think I was in any way sympathizing with any members of a group that were responsible for one of the most horrific acts of genocide in human history. It was a razor-thin line to walk.
The hard truth was that my characters had to be multi-layered, fully realized people with their own hopes and dreams. They may have a warped world view. They might well be on the sociopathic spectrum. But they had to be handled with the same complexity as any other character I’d created in the past. If I didn’t, they would become mustache-twirling vaudevillian villains tying damsels to railroad tracks.
As you'll see, it’s a challenge that would have been far too daunting for some. But after reading THE SCHOOL FOR GERMAN BRIDES, the amazing Pam Jenoff said: “This is a moving and memorable tale of sisterhood, strength, and survival, which will resonate deeply with readers of historical fiction.”
And now, Aimie tells us how she got there.
Intimacy with Evil
by Aimie K. Runyan
Sometimes a book requires an intimate relationship with evil. Perhaps you’re writing a book from the point of view of a serial killer (not the benevolent Dexter sort). Perhaps you’re writing a book from the point of view of an abusive narcissist. Or perhaps, like me, you’re writing about willing members of one of the most evil political movements in the history of mankind—the Nazi party.
World War Two fiction, which has always had a large following, is huge at the moment. So many of the books deal with the heroic people in the resistance movements in Britain and France. They’re able to show the good guys in vivid detail while the bad guys are depicted as a faceless, looming menace. It absolutely works as a storytelling device because it’s certainly the way the Nazi presence felt to many.
While working on another book, I stumbled across the history of Hitter’s bride schools; real schools throughout Germany in the 1930s and 40s designed to train women to be dutiful housewives and mothers, all the while brainwashing them with Nazi propaganda. The goal was to encourage women to have as many healthy “Aryan” babies as possible, and to raise them in the Nazi tradition so that the ideology would proliferate over generations. I knew that this needed to be the subject of a novel. And to do it right, I’d have to delve into the psyche of monsters.
It was going to be hard. It was going to be uncomfortable. It was going to be incredibly risky.
The first, and simplest rule I followed was remembering that no one, no matter how awful, is without some redeeming feature. But writing Nazis is far more fraught. I needed to humanize the characters whose beliefs were completely abhorrent. The antithesis of everything I hold dear.
My goal with The School for German Brides was to show how the evil of the Nazi ideology subtly and slowly seeped into people’s daily lives and made them either directly accountable for acts of hatred, or else complicit in them. It required me to explore them as three-dimensional people, but I was terrified that people would think I was in any way sympathizing with any members of a group that were responsible for one of the most horrific acts of genocide in human history. It was a razor-thin line to walk.
The hard truth was that my characters had to be multi-layered, fully realized people with their own hopes and dreams. They may have a warped world view. They might well be on the sociopathic spectrum. But they had to be handled with the same complexity as any other character I’d created in the past. If I didn’t, they would become mustache-twirling vaudevillian villains tying damsels to railroad tracks.
And it would do no justice to the story that needed to be told.
I won’t pretend it was easy to think of how these characters had some redeeming qualities. How Aunt Charlotte wished to love Hanna like the daughter she never had but always wanted, for example. But my consolation was that I had to explore and understand this evil in order to do my part to ensure that history doesn’t repeat itself.
And so, I leave it to you: is it worthwhile to explore the humanity of evil characters so as better understand how the evil came to be? Have you read good examples of this in others’ work? Have you done this in your own work? What techniques did you use to make it successful?
HANK: Isn’t this chilling? Isn't it haunting? Can't you just picture it? What questions do you have for Aimie?
Aimie K. Runyan writes to celebrate history’s unsung heroines. She has been honored as a Historical Novel Society Editors’ Choice selection, as a three-time finalist for the Colorado Book Awards, and as a nominee for the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writer of the Year. Aimie is active as an educator and speaker in the writing community and beyond. Her next book, A School for German Brides, has just released from William Morrow. She lives in Colorado with her amazing husband, two (usually) adorable children, and two (always) adorable kitties. To learn more about Aimie, please visit www.aimiekrunyan.com.
THE SCHOOL FOR GERMAN BRIDES
In this intriguing historical novel, a young woman who is sent to a horrific "bride school" to be molded into the perfect Nazi wife finds her life forever intertwined with a young Jewish woman about to give birth.
Germany, 1939
As the war begins, Hanna Rombauer, a young German woman, is sent to live with her aunt and uncle after her mother's death. Thrown into a life of luxury she never expected, Hanna soon finds herself unwillingly matched with an SS officer. The independence that her mother lovingly fostered in her is considered highly inappropriate as the future wife of an up-and-coming officer and she is sent to a "bride school." There, in a posh villa on the outskirts of town, Hanna is taught how to be a "proper" German wife. The lessons of hatred, prejudice, and misogyny disturb her and she finds herself desperate to escape.
For Mathilde Altman, a German Jewish woman, the war has brought more devastation than she ever thought possible. Torn from her work, her family, and her new husband, she fights to keep her unborn baby safe. But when the unthinkable happens, Tilde realizes she must hide. The risk of discovery grows greater with each passing day, but she has no other options.
When Hanna discovers that Tilde is hiding near the school, she knows she must help her however she can. For Tilde, fear wars with desperation. The women must take extraordinary risks to save the lives of mother and baby.
Will they both be able to escape with their lives and if they do, what kind of future can they possibly hope for?
I won’t pretend it was easy to think of how these characters had some redeeming qualities. How Aunt Charlotte wished to love Hanna like the daughter she never had but always wanted, for example. But my consolation was that I had to explore and understand this evil in order to do my part to ensure that history doesn’t repeat itself.
And so, I leave it to you: is it worthwhile to explore the humanity of evil characters so as better understand how the evil came to be? Have you read good examples of this in others’ work? Have you done this in your own work? What techniques did you use to make it successful?
HANK: Isn’t this chilling? Isn't it haunting? Can't you just picture it? What questions do you have for Aimie?
Aimie K. Runyan writes to celebrate history’s unsung heroines. She has been honored as a Historical Novel Society Editors’ Choice selection, as a three-time finalist for the Colorado Book Awards, and as a nominee for the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writer of the Year. Aimie is active as an educator and speaker in the writing community and beyond. Her next book, A School for German Brides, has just released from William Morrow. She lives in Colorado with her amazing husband, two (usually) adorable children, and two (always) adorable kitties. To learn more about Aimie, please visit www.aimiekrunyan.com.
THE SCHOOL FOR GERMAN BRIDES
In this intriguing historical novel, a young woman who is sent to a horrific "bride school" to be molded into the perfect Nazi wife finds her life forever intertwined with a young Jewish woman about to give birth.
Germany, 1939
As the war begins, Hanna Rombauer, a young German woman, is sent to live with her aunt and uncle after her mother's death. Thrown into a life of luxury she never expected, Hanna soon finds herself unwillingly matched with an SS officer. The independence that her mother lovingly fostered in her is considered highly inappropriate as the future wife of an up-and-coming officer and she is sent to a "bride school." There, in a posh villa on the outskirts of town, Hanna is taught how to be a "proper" German wife. The lessons of hatred, prejudice, and misogyny disturb her and she finds herself desperate to escape.
For Mathilde Altman, a German Jewish woman, the war has brought more devastation than she ever thought possible. Torn from her work, her family, and her new husband, she fights to keep her unborn baby safe. But when the unthinkable happens, Tilde realizes she must hide. The risk of discovery grows greater with each passing day, but she has no other options.
When Hanna discovers that Tilde is hiding near the school, she knows she must help her however she can. For Tilde, fear wars with desperation. The women must take extraordinary risks to save the lives of mother and baby.
Will they both be able to escape with their lives and if they do, what kind of future can they possibly hope for?
