Q&A

1. What is your debut novel, Passages: A Voyage From War to Peace, about? Passages is a story of transitions, relationships, and healing. Superficially, the character AJ is an aging Vietnam War Navy combat veteran who gets himself in trouble and is committed to a hospital and required to have a psychiatric evaluation. The principal doctor who is assigned to his case is a young foreign medical doctor, what we now call an international medical graduate (IMG), who is just entering a psychiatry residency - the latter training phase for a specialty, the time that follows medical school and internship. So, one of these interlocutors is in a late-life transition under duress and the other is in an early life transition under its own form of duress. Some readers might expect friction with just such a mash-up.

During the telling, one learns a lot about how each got to this moment of their meeting and events formative to their character and world view. I had hoped to draw the reader into the narrative with a glimpse of military and medical training reality, if that had not been part of the reader’s own experience. I also tried to be as genuine in the description of scenes, so that those who have been in those or similar places could readily identify with them. You might imagine that working in this platform allows for touching on so many of the relationship flash points in our lives – parents and children, our reactions to authority figures, finding one’s place in the world, and bringing one’s talents and aspirations to bear. Story telling has always been a media for passing down from generation to generation not only history, tradition, and practical knowledge, but lessons on emotional resilience. I didn’t shy away from major taboos that challenge us. We all run up against circumstances that try to break us.

Open warfare is the most devastating violence we heap upon each other, but we all experience battles in our lives and strive for victory, or at least peace. No one has all the answers, but stories that carry examples, options of reactions to challenges, can resonate for some of us. Identifying with the challenges of one character or another is what draws thoughtful people into a story and give it meaning. I have always been fascinated with unsung hero-types I’ve encountered, and the courage they demonstrate when confronted with challenges. Passages is more a story of relationships than military engagement or outcomes.

What inspired you to write this story? Foremost, I wanted to bring out conversations that I have had with so many patients and families over a long career about emotional pain, family conflict, depression, and suicide - in story form. I drew from the experiences of people who provided me insights I had not considered.

2. You and your five siblings, all served during the Vietnam War, though you did not experience combat. Why did each of you volunteer for a bloody, unpopular war? My sister, the eldest offspring, joined the Marine Corps along with a girl she worked with, just for the adventure and change from working in a cafeteria after high school. The US involvement in the hot war had not begun. At 17, the eldest brother was getting into trouble at home and high school and joined the Navy. The next three brothers followed him as they turned 18. It was during those years that the war ramped up to become increasingly controversial and casualties mounted. I was recruited to the US Air Force Academy by its wrestling coach – it was an offer I couldn’t refuse for many reasons. In the net, the combined experiences that were brought home to our family house was a rich mix for thought and discussion. Without too sharp an attribution, my eldest brother revealed a particular aspect of the psycho-emotional impact of war on young people that most people may not be aware of.

3. As a doctor of 40 years, now retired, you have treated many people, including veterans. Is your book trying to help veterans, or at least to help us understand them? In that the story is re-enacted so often in our society following any hot military deployment, it is helpful to veterans and their families to know that they are not alone, that their unseen wounds are also real, and that the moral injury can be named and reasonably managed. So, yes, the trajectory of the story may be useful to vets and their families. The situations, character portrayals, and therapeutic discussions are intended to have a broader application for many lives beyond military families.

4. Your book draws upon medical science, psychological analysis, and naval warfare. How do you draw upon each of them to engage the reader with a meaningful narrative? Story is a way to break down the compartmentalization of education, experience, travel, relationships, and other contributors to one’s accumulated knowledge and the beliefs it generates. A meaningful narrative is one that supplies the essential information to carry an idea, and no more.

5. Your story tells the story of two men at opposite ends of their lives and how each finds awareness of deeper truths. How can two people learn from the other when they have lived such different lives? Often, it is because they have little alternative, and need something of value the other can provide. As in Passages, the two men may not be aware of the dimensions of their unfolding, tacit exchange. A life of curiosity usually reveals that so many of our most consequential discoveries come from unlikely sources. To gain from other people, we have to discipline ourselves to listen hard to truly hear what the other is saying, rather than listening to that little voice in our own head that wants to supply the answer we think we already know. That’s where the value comes from, not just the knowledge that can be gained from a person with experiences we haven’t had, but for connecting with that person.

6. Your book has been described as “philosophical and deeply human.” How so? My short answer is any deeply held opinion not supported by reproducible evidence is philosophical. Philosophy is the love of knowledge. Any notion that provokes one to ponder, which this book will, is descriptively philosophical, whether it be philosophy of the mind or ethical philosophy. “Deeply human” would refer to what humans do best of all forms of life – self-awareness.

7. It is a story of healing. How would you define what that process is like? Healing, above all, is finding a path forward despite the damage done and the physical and emotional scars that will remain. I’m hoping readers will perceive Passages as not just a story about war and veterans, but, indeed, about healing. Some reviewers on Amazon have also made comments suggesting they have found the story healing to the reader as well.

8. Kirkus Reviews says it is “An original tale filled with truth and vulnerability that illustrates the many ways in which war can rage.” Does the war ever end for those who fought in it? At the war’s end, the combatant may come away with some variable amount of damage, be it physical disabilities, moral injury, reset neural responses (PTSD), depression and other mental health conditions. Following on as self-treatment, substance abuse disorder is common, as is self-harm. So, yes, the war ends, and the damage assessment and recovery begins (in a perfect world). I think the reviewer may also be referring to other forms of physical and emotional violence occurring continuously in our society, as in the novel, with regard to domestic violence or just making hard choices and harboring regrets. The lessons apply to those who may not have been involved in military conflict.

9. How would you describe your writing style? I work to be efficient with scenes and exposition where possible, then slow down when I want to convey some concept that may be useful to the reader. The concept may be something hard to face or generate painful mental images. I enjoy carefully dropping a bit of imagery from time to time at the beginning of new chapters to reset the pace or merely to allow for some reflection.

10. What challenges did you overcome in writing this book? I was fortunate to have experienced writers in my circle of friends who encouraged my efforts. They showed me and directed me to articles on how to mitigate using too much technical jargon, too many adverbs and adjectives, proper POV, “show, don’t tell,” and so many basic writing techniques that are mostly irrelevant in technical or medical writing.

11. The Vietnam War concluded 50 years ago. As you reflect upon it now, what thoughts come to mind? The decades have provided perspective. The majority of survivors of participation in the conflict are deceased. There has been considerable reconciliation and appreciation of Vietnam veterans and their sacrifices, rather than blame. We have the outward expression from a grateful nation in the form a strikingly beautiful and evocative memorial to our service personnel in that war in the center of our nation’s capital. That act by our people and government was, may I say, monumental. The American public from that era has also undergone attrition. Perhaps nudged along by US participation in two Gulf Wars and other foreign skirmishes with US participation around the globe, our civilians have a better understanding that unnecessary wars are easy to start and difficult to conclude with definable results, putting the Vietnam conflict into a revised context.

12. How did you draw Miko, your lead character? Is he based on someone? Miko is a composite of many doctors in training, and psychiatrists and psychologists I’ve encountered, not a unique individual. I created his intern experiences from my own flexible internship retrospect, and the psychology acumen from career-long experience and continuing education in navigating difficult personalities, drug seekers, and people in chronic pain.

13. Why are military historical fiction books so popular? War is real, not science fiction, and human history is replete with bloody conflict. There are so many accounts of events to draw on. It’s difficult to imagine a more dramatic arena.

14. What do we need to know about PTSD and the mental well-being of our soldiers? PTSD is a variable manifestation of a conditioned response to a variety of stimuli. The results are often debilitating. I flirted in the novel with Miko writing the case for a defense budget that includes allocations for individualized mental health recovery processes for vets returning from conflict. I understand that some of that already exists, although the penetration in the burden of disease may be inadequate.