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After writing hundreds of government reports, Lorelei Brush has stepped into the glorious freedom of fiction. She loves to occupy a comfy coffee house chair and imagine her characters acting out each scene. Her first novel, “Uncovering,” came from her experience managing a large USAID-funded education project in the northwestern part of Pakistan. She was inspired by the strength and resilience of the women on her staff and invented a group of characters working to improve the health of pregnant women and their children as they confronted the severe restrictions of fundamentalist Islam. “Chasing the American Dream” rolled from her pen following a six-month stint in the National Archives researching the role of her father in the Office of Strategic Services in World War II. He’d told his children exciting stories of his feats as a spy behind enemy lines, all of which turned out to be lies. She had to write about his quest to be a hero and how, when the war had not provided the opportunity, he might have used the 1950’s to achieve his goal. Along with two gentle cats, she lives outside of Washington, D.C. in a community of good neighbors, friends, and fellow writers. In her spare time she reads novels, sings with a community chorus, hikes, and works out at the gym. Your father’s tales of wartime heroism turned out to be inventions, something you uncovered only after deep research. When you realized those stories were fabricated, how did that discovery reshape your understanding of him—not just as a soldier, but as your father? And how did it reverberate through your own sense of identity and family history? My father was a very angry man and aimed his strong feelings toward everyone in his orbit. He had few friends. Even television commentators in the 1950s earned a shaking of the fist and harsh words. He claimed to have wanted to be a doctor but was unable to afford it, yearned to be an entrepreneur but couldn’t bring a small engine company out of near-bankruptcy, and had sworn never to have children. I did my best to avoid him as I grew up, and it took a long time for me to feel confident, especially in arguments. The discovery that he was not the hero he had described elicited from me several curses at him and then laughter. He wasn’t this perfect god who must be obeyed but a very human man whose goals were unfulfilled. I was freed to be the person I wanted to be and could forgive him, one adult human to another. Chasing the American Dream was born out of months spent in the National Archives. What was the most startling document or revelation you uncovered while digging into that history? According to my mother, my parents argued about my being named Lorelei. She was against giving me a German name right after World War II; he argued the name “Lorelei” had kept him safe as a spy behind German lines and would also keep me safe. After checking his personnel file for the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), which contained only two pieces of paper, I dove into the list of code names OSS had given its spies. It was a “startling revelation” to discover no listing for “Lorelei.” My subsequent months of research seconded the idea that he wasn’t a spy with a code name, and he wasn’t ever behind enemy lines. Did he have a training exercise for which he had chosen this code name? Was it a secret wish? I will never know. The book’s 1955 setting is steeped in Cold War tensions and post-war disillusionment. How did you capture that uniquely American mix of optimism and paranoia? The choice of the 1950s time period seemed perfect to show off David’s optimism in his mix of avid patriotism, a hatred of communism, a firm belief he could achieve the American dream through hard work, and an absolute conviction that the Allies against fascism constituted a righteous war. Having missed his chance to be a war hero, David was sure that finding justice for a Nazi war criminal was the chance for him to be a true hero. The paranoia came from the accusation that David was a communist. The Red Scare of the 1950s in which many teachers were accused of being communists supplied an excellent situation to force David to recognize that his country had flaws, and he could not be the superhero of myth. Rather, he had to accept that his quiet successes as an “everyday” man could make him a different but satisfying hero. David goes from serving justice abroad to questioning it at home. What does his story say about the fragility—or resilience—of the American dream itself? The idea of the American dream has evolved over time. In the early 20th century, the dream encompassed a sense of pride in being a part of a country that believed in freedom, justice for all, and that hard work brings rewards. David was a disciple of this version. By the 1950s, the American dream had become more concrete, a sense of a chicken in every pot and a house and a car for each family. I believe this second version is where we are now, and I’m afraid it has led us to anger about not having everything on our list. We would be more resilient as a country if we returned to a debate on how best to realize “freedom and justice for all,” rather than argue that we’ve been deprived of what we are somehow owed by being citizens. In writing about a Nazi war criminal hiding in plain sight, how did you navigate portraying evil without sensationalizing it? I designed Dr. Gerhardt Adler as a man who followed orders, was a well-trained chemist, and was entranced with the idea of being at the forefront of rocketry. These professional qualities have a very positive side, balanced against the facts that the rockets he designed were built by men in a concentration camp and destined to kill large swaths of people. Adler also had a family, which gave him a chance to show off the parenting skills of discipline and love. By seeing the good side of a “villain” as well as the evil, readers can understand the character’s motives although still not agreeing with his actions. David longs to be a hero but is confronted with moral gray zones. Did you struggle personally with how far he should go in his pursuit of justice? Though David is only roughly drawn from my father, this characteristic of taking a belief to an extreme was definitely one of my father’s flaws. He was a man committed to patriotism, who thought he had the correct versions of right and wrong and expected others to agree and live by that code. He didn’t see gray zones. I was sure my character, David, would not give up his quest for justice easily. It took what he viewed as the failure of the justice system and the potential loss of family to stop him! How did your background writing hundreds of government reports shape your approach to David’s “spycraft”—both technically and emotionally? I wrote three sorts of government reports: (1) proposals in which I had to sell my company (and sometimes myself) as the perfect group to carry out a project; (2) reports of data that had to stick to the numbers, no interpretation; and (3) drafts of policies that would improve program structure and performance. I’m happy dealing with statistics but love to dream up multiple scenarios of what data might mean and what policies would encourage the best results. Selling one’s company or oneself also benefits from creative framing. In inventing David’s spycraft, I let my imagination flow, choosing which facts would constrain his behavior and where I’d let him go wild. Having read a good deal about spies in WW II—and watched a slew of movies—I stuck largely to historical events and let David’s risk-taking personality shine. You describe fiction writing as “glorious freedom.” After decades of structured, factual work, what surprised you most about unleashing your imagination? I wrote a good deal of this book long-hand at a coffeehouse, sitting in a club chair in front of a fireplace. I had a clear picture of my characters playing out scenes in my mind—the setting, the emotion, the movement, the language. And sometimes I’d erase the scene and start again, if it didn’t feel right. I’ve enjoyed storytelling like making up adventures for my son, but this writing enterprise unleashed three-dimensional movies in my head each morning. Pretty incredible stuff. Was there a scene or moment in Chasing the American Dream that changed dramatically from your first draft to the final manuscript—and why? I wrote at least four drafts of the ending for the book. For a while, I had David becoming a great lawyer and orator and showed him arguing an important case and winning. I was uncomfortable with that, as I didn’t think it showed nearly enough personal, emotional growth in the character. In the end, I made him a family lawyer, close to beloved by his community. That was the father I would rather have had. Your work intertwines personal family history with collective memory. What do you hope readers reflect on about truth, myth-making, and the stories we tell ourselves as Americans? I listened recently to a webinar by a genealogist who argued that everyone who researched their own family history found elements of mythology in the stories they’d been told. Family stories can be helpful as we work to define who we are, but they can also be harmful as they may set unrealistic expectations of what we should be like, given such a heritage. How much better it can be to understand the reality of who these people were and in their context the story occurred! In describing the context of my father’s war stories and reading reports from others of his experiences, I felt a great release of the anger I had harbored toward him. It was a forgiveness for his lies and a developing respect for who he was and why he felt lying was essential. I hope that readers will take the time to examine their own family stories, including the dreams of their forebears, the challenges they faced, the actions they took and failed to take, and the repercussions. Interviews with family members, use of websites such as ancestry.com, and genealogical research can provide a different framework for our thinking and allow us to clear out myths and come to terms with the truth. All of us also have gleaned myths about ourselves as Americans, with information from our families, the history we learned in school, and what we see and hear from traditional and social media. These bear examination as well. Is the U.S. a “land of opportunity?” For everyone? Is the ideal American a “rugged individualist?” What dream for our country do we all want to live into? Website: https://loreleibrush.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063715616610 LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/lorelei-brush-657743a Purchase the book here: https://www.amazon.com/Chasing-American-Dream-Lorelei-Brush-ebook/dp/B08VQDSL2F
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AuthorJane Ubell-Meyer founded Bedside Reading in 2017. Prior to that she was a TV and Film producer. She has spent the last five years promoting, marketing and talking to authors and others who are experts in the field. Archives
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