Belated Halloween Question: Why Do Witches Have Green Faces?

There are as many answers to the question of why witches have green faces as there are warts on their noses. Here are some possible explanations:
Theory One: Witches were said to concoct herbal potions. Herbs (the leafy parts of plants) are green.
Theory Two: In the Salem witch trials, suspects were given henbane, a hallucinogenic that turned their skin green, to extract confessions. (The drug-induced “high” may also be the origin of witches flying on broomsticks.)
Theory Three: Green is associated with being sickly, unwholesome, reptilian, and bilious (think of the four medieval humors), all “evil” witchlike characteristics.
Theory Four: Green-skinned witches began with The Wizard of Oz, the first Technicolor movie. MGM used green face paint on Margaret Hamilton, the Wicked Witch of the West, because it was vibrant, scary, and ugly. Before that witches typically had red or orange faces. [In Baum’s books, good witches were pretty, bad witches were ugly. Skin color was not specified.] Want to learn more about the making of The Wizard of Oz movie? Read the novel A Brain, A Heart, The Nerve. More at NOVELS.

Margaret Hamilton as the Wicked Witch of the West in the 1939 Technicolor movie The Wizard of Oz

A fictional biography of the actor who played the Munchkin Coroner

Learn History Through Fiction: By Any Means

American journalist Varian Fry, working in occupied France for the Emergency Rescue Committee, a private relief organization, used legal and illegal measures to evacuate 2,000 refugees, including prominent writers like Lion Feuchtwanger and artists like Marc Chagall. In 1994, Fry was the first American honored by Jerusalem’s Yad Vashem as a “Righteous Among the Nations.” While the U.S. failed to end WW2 sooner or admit those fleeing Nazi persecution, history shows some courageous Americans spoke out and saved lives. Read about a German Jewish family who tries to escape to the U.S. in the novel One Person’s Loss. Learn more about the book in NOVELS.

Varian Fry rescued 2,000 prominent intellectuals targeted by the Nazis

Berlin, 1937. Jewish newlyweds flee Germany for Brooklyn before the Nazi slaughter begins

Survivor Story: That’ll Teach You

“Children escaped through holes in the ghetto walls and were hidden by Polish families. If the Germans found out, they’d sometimes shoot the family’s own children and leave the Jewish children with them for a few weeks as a lesson.” Read about two Holocaust survivors, German Jewish newlyweds sent to America by their parents to have children to “save our people,” in One Person’s Loss. Learn more about the book in NOVELS.

Courageous Polish families hid Jewish children at their own peril

Jewish newlyweds flee Germany for Brooklyn on the eve of the Nazi slaughter

What I’m Reading: Cloud Cuckoo Land

My Amazon and Goodreads review of Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr (Rating 5) – The Story of a Story. Although I bought Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr soon after it was published, I intended to wait before reading it. Having been awed by All the Light We Cannot See, as both a reader and fiction writer (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page, I was saving Cloud Cuckoo Land to prolong the anticipation of being wowed again. But when I discovered that Doerr would be speaking in the college town where I live in a couple of weeks, I decided to read it before his talk. I got only halfway through before his lecture, because reading this book cannot be rushed. It is meant to be ingested slowly. The novel alternates between five characters (six if you count the Greek figure from whose tale the book’s title is derived) and three eras, from the distant past to the not-so-distant future. With intricate plotting, atypical characters, and an erudition that reflects his insatiable curiosity, Doerr builds the connections between them. Despite humanity’s tragedies — from ancient wars to present day environmental destruction — Doerr salvages hope, and reminds us of the power of storytelling.

Storytelling at its most captivating

Why writers read: “Why are we reading, if not in hope of beauty laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed?” – Annie Dillard

Survivor Story: Heart of Ice

“At some point, my heart grew hard. Not because I lacked feelings for my fellow prisoners. I always had those. But my heart was no longer alive. Sheer terror had turned it into ice.” Read about two Holocaust survivors, German Jewish newlyweds sent to America by their parents to have children to “save our people,” in One Person’s Loss. Learn more about the book in NOVELS.

Sheer terror overrode all other feelings

Berlin, 1937. Jewish newlyweds flee Germany for Brooklyn on the eve of the Nazi slaughter

Character Rules

“For me the novel is character creation. Style is nice, plot is nice, structure is OK, social significance is OK, symbolism worms its way in, timeliness is OK too, but unless the characters convince and live the book’s got no chance” (Author Larry McMurty in a letter to author Ken Kesey). I agree. For me, before the seed for a story or novel can germinate, I have to answer the question, “Who is the book about. What’s the point of view?” Once I know the character(s), the ideas begin to flow and I can write. See more thoughts about writing in REFLECTIONS.

Why writers write: “I just knew there were stories I wanted to tell.” – Octavia E. Butler

What I’m Reading: The Doctors Blackwell

My Goodreads and Amazon reviews of The Doctors Blackwell: How Two Pioneering Sisters Brought Medicine to Women and Women to Medicine by Janice P. Nimura (Rating 4) – A Remarkable Sibling Duo. The Doctors Blackwell by Janice P. Nimura, is the history of the first female physicians in the United States. Elizabeth, the determined older sister, was first. She encouraged — in some ways pressured — her younger sister Emily to follow in her footsteps. Elizabeth’s admission to Geneva Medical College actually began as a student prank. Its absurdity (no spoilers) emphasizes how outlandish the idea of a woman doctor was in 1847. To the surprise of her peers and the faculty, Elizabeth turned out to be a stellar pupil. For men entrenched in the belief that women had no place in the profession, her achievement was the exception that proved the rule. In the words of the Dean, she was that rare woman who “possessed the proper moral, physical, and intellectual qualifications to be admitted to the medical brotherhood.” Actually, that attitude was fine with Elizabeth, who also saw herself as superior. Nimura highlights the differences in personality between the sisters, the elder self-confident and judgmental, the younger self-doubting but compassionate. To her credit, their respective flaws are not sugar-coated. Instead Nimura shows how well they complemented each other. To echo the subtitle, Elizabeth focused on education, bringing women to medicine; Emily applied herself to practice, bringing medicine to women. My one criticism is that the book is too detailed. Nimura’s laudable desire to thoroughly document the untold lives of these remarkable women is sometimes overshadowed by forgettable lists of addresses, people, and occasions. As a writer of historical fiction (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I know the importance of being selective about how much research one shares with readers. That caveat aside, The Doctors Blackwell reminds us that advanced in women’s professional acceptance and health care owe much to the determined efforts of these two trailblazers.

The untold history of two pioneering women

Why writers read: “I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book.” – Groucho Marx

Survivor Story: A Muselmann Is a Goner

“Camp life becomes normal. It’s easy to give up and say God wants it. Once you feel sorry for yourself, you’re a goner, a ‘Muselmann’ as we called the physically and mentally broken. But I was young; I wanted to live.” Read about two Holocaust survivors, German Jewish newlyweds sent to America by their parents to have children to “save our people,” in One Person’s Loss. Learn more about the book in NOVELS.

Young women determined to survive the camp

Berlin, 1937. Jewish newlyweds flee Germany for Brooklyn on the eve of the Nazi slaughter

In Praise of Vanilla

I adore chocolate and eat it very day. Yet I increasingly appreciate the taste of vanilla. Real vanilla (not artificial vanillin) is fruity and spicy-sweet with a mild floral aroma. So how did this complex flavor earn the epithet “plain vanilla,” synonymous with bland, boring, unadventurous, in short, blah? It wasn’t always so. In the 18th century, when vanilla was scarce, it was an incitement to lust. The Marquis de Sade purportedly spiked desserts with vanilla and Spanish fly. A German physician claimed to have turned “no fewer than 342 impotent men into astonishing lovers.” But when vanillin was synthesized in 1874, making it cheap and readily available, it lost its cache as a luxury. Fortunately, vanilla is undergoing a high-end revival, much like coffee and chocolate. Beans are now imported not only from Madagascar (source of 80 percent of the world’s vanilla), but also Hawaii, Mexico, Peru, India, Sri Lanka, Tanzania, and elsewhere. Each terroir brings its own distinctive flavor(s). Vanilla is once again classy. Might the same happen to trite literary metaphors, taken out of retirement like old clothes and paraded as vintage treasures? I nominate “sweet as honey,” given that the decline of the bee population has made honey scarce. What banal metaphors would you like to see revived?

There’s nothing “plain” about these fragrant vanilla beans

What I’m Reading: The Falcon, the Wolf, and the Hummingbird

My Amazon and Goodreads review of The Falcon, the Wolf, and the Hummingbird by Martha Engber (Rating 5) – Suspenseful and Spellbinding. The Falcon, the Wolf, and the Hummingbird by Martha Engber is a breathless adventure about two courageous Native American women warriors on opposite sides of a life-or-death conflict. Readers meet strong-willed Pino, determined to redeem herself and save her threatened tribe, and wily Meesha, eager to avenge her own murdered tribe and escape her subsequent enslavement. With mounting suspense and spellbinding writing, Engber steers the narrative through the young heroines’ journeys as they face hard choices and nearly insurmountable odds. Pino is plagued by guilt over her sister’s death. Meesha is entrapped in a love-hate relationship with her tormentor. When the women form an unlikely alliance, readers wonder whether defeating their common enemy will likewise allow them to vanquish their own inner demons. The novel is enriched by meticulously researched details of daily life among pre-colonial New England Native Americans. As writer of historical fiction myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I admire Engber’s ability to include factual details, yet maintain the fast-moving plot. While set hundreds of years ago, this tale of sisterhood nevertheless speaks to today’s struggle for self-determination and survival among all beleaguered peoples. The Falcon, the Wolf, and the Hummingbird is entertaining, enlightening, and enormously inspiring.

Conflict, connection, revenge, redemption

Why writers read: “Books let you travel without moving your feet.” – Jhumpa Lahiri