Bestselling Author of Historical Fiction Teresa Messineo

Teresa Messineo is the bestselling author of the WWII historical fiction novel WHAT WE MAY BECOME., wherein secrets hidden at an Italian estate could prove just as vital to humanity's fate as the war efforts on the frontlines…if nurse Diana Bolsena can get to them first. She is a DeSales graduate majoring in English, Biology, and Theology, and she is now completing an MFA in creative writing. She is the recipient of the Ross Baker Memorial Award for Writing, the university’s highest honor for writers. Her debut novel, THE FIRE BY NIGHT, took seven years to research and was preempted by HarperCollins less than fifteen hours after submission. It opened in the number one position on the Canadian Best Sellers’ List, was selected as the HarperCollins Canada Focus Feature, was nominated for the American Library in Paris Book Award, and is now available in three languages in seven countries. Teresa also has four children, whom she home-schooled for twenty years. She is passionate about social justice and sticking up for the underdog. Her varied interests include medicine, swing dancing, lecturing, studying foreign languages, distance swimming, hunger relief, and hiking. Teresa lives in Elverson, Pennsylvania.


What inspired you to write, and what was your journey like in publishing your second book?

When I was nine years old, my dad and I watched a television show about vampires who opened a barber shop (so they could enjoy the occasional nick or scrape). He told me—in frustration more than anything else—that I could write something better than that. I took him at his word, firing up our cutting-edge word processor (with orange text that burned right into the screen if I stayed idle too long), and began my first novel. And while I have yet to finish that thrilling bank heist set in Mexico City, that is when I first caught the writing bug. After that, I never stopped. I sent poems, short stories, articles, and essays to any place that would publish them. I majored in English, then later got my Masters in Creative Writing. I home-schooled my four kids for twenty years and taught them every subject—from History to Biology to Algebra II—but English, especially writing, was my favorite. I submitted my first full-length manuscript after I finished teaching on a Monday afternoon. It was pre-empted by HarperCollins (THE FIRE BY NIGHT, 2017) just fifteen hours before I had even gotten the first pencil sharpened on Tuesday morning.

Teresa Messineo’s WHAT WE MAY BECOME (Severn House).

“…the sky was the limit on what I could create with the right representation and editorial support.”

The journey to publishing my second book was a joy. Whereas the first go-round is still a blur for me—contracts, literary attorneys, television interviews, and podcasts going live in three, two, one—I knew what I was doing this time. Or, at least, I knew who I was as a writer. I knew that I could write, had a powerful story to tell, and that the sky was the limit on what I could create with the right representation and editorial support. They say the odds of getting your début novel published—let alone published by one of the ‘Big Four’ publishing houses, like HarperCollins—is not one in a million. It’s two in a million. I’m glad I didn’t know those odds when I started. And I love that I have parleyed that amazing initial opportunity into a career I adore, one that touches people’s lives worldwide and finally gives voice to the silenced.

 

How did you develop such a fantastic title for your latest book?

I was inspired by Ernest Hemingway’s THE SUN ALSO RISES, the title of which is an allusion to Ecclesiastes 1:5.  My first novel, THE FIRE BY NIGHT, is both a reference to the book of Exodus and a descriptor of one of the more harrowing passages in my novel, where the captured American nurses urge their rescuers to find them by following the glow of their burning prisoner of war camp against the dark Philippine sky. I loved the interplay of meanings and returned to it with my second book, WHAT WE MAY BECOME (Severn House, 2022). The verse from the first epistle of John (‘Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we may become has not yet appeared’) is devastatingly undercut as the main character begins to doubt what she—and the United States—are becoming, as they get into bed with the most inhumane aspects of Nazism, in a mad rush to position themselves for the coming Cold War. A good title is incredibly important, and I want to thank Severn House for giving me utterly free reign here.

 “A good title is incredibly important…”

What about historical fiction appeals to you, and do you feel that the genre has any limitations or restrictions?

Historical fiction is my favorite genre because so much of it is accurate. Many readers don’t realize that, for well-crafted historical fiction, nearly every character, event, and location is accurate. It has to be. For example, when I have a hospital ship full of American and British nurses go down off the coast of Sorento, it had better be the HMHS Newfoundland and no other because no other ship was there. You have to research everything, to write authentically in this genre. Specific to my period (1939-1945), I can tell you the year Tide detergent was invented, when beer was first sold in cans, and when VA Hospitals installed fluorescent lighting and linoleum floors. It took me seven years to research my first novel, and you need that time to immerse yourself and be able to world-build convincingly. I had World War II veterans—both men and women—read my manuscript before publication, and they would ask me, incredulously, ‘How are you doing this? Anyone can get the names and the dates, and the battles right.  But the feel of the thing, the way the war felt, to us—how are you doing that?’ That’s when I knew I’d gotten it right. And that’s also when I knew whatever future accolades my work or myself as a writer might receive, and I had just received my highest praise.

“…you need that time to immerse yourself and be able to world-build convincingly.”

I do believe this genre can be limiting or restrictive for these same reasons. It demands a lot of dedication and hard work—often years of it—and incredible attention to detail. And although I am usually a very nice person, even I grow impatient when writers are slap-dash, do little (or no) research, and try stuffing their contemporary characters—with thoroughly modern sensibilities—into period clothing, doing up their hair in Victory Rolls, and having them ride around in ‘old fashioned cars’ they haven’t even bothered to look up the names of—and say that’s historical fiction. That’s not the case. I’ve coined a phrase for that kind of sloppy writing. I call it historical fantasy.

 

What’s your creative process like?

To the chagrin of my former mentors, I am an impulse writer. Many successful writers have strict schedules, waking up at the same time each morning, drinking the same cup of Earl Grey, and writing steadily from 5:30 am until 2:00 pm, come hell or high water. But that is not me. I can go days (or weeks) without writing a word, and then it hits me—sitting in the car waiting for my kids’ practice to end, singing a hymn distractedly in church five seconds after getting into bed for the night—and then I have to write. Nothing can stop me. My kids have learned that when they see me typing away furiously, it’s best if they heat some leftovers and leave me to it.  Mom will be a while.

“…I have to write. Nothing can stop me.”

Another part of my creative process is writing everything out and then going back later to edit it. Certain sections of writing seem to come to me out of the blue, in their entirety, and I don’t want to risk losing that flow by stopping to make simple typographical edits that can wait. I feel those sections—where I write the first line and then don’t remember anything until much later when I ‘come up for air’ at a chapter break—are somehow sacred. In support of this, I’ve gone back and checked my editor’s and proofreader’s marks, and although the rest of the manuscript might be peppered with edits and suggestions, those ‘sacred’ sections have never had a mark on them. That makes you think.

 

Are there any particular books or authors that have inspired you?

Certainly. So many. I’ve read over 2,500 full-length works of literature since graduating from college, and many have tended towards the dark and the haunted. I’ve already mentioned Hemingway, who taught me understated heartbreak. Daphne DuMaurier’s work, most notably REBECCA, showed me how to craft ill-fated romances that were still all the more satisfying for their hopelessness. And, of course, classics like Remarque’s ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONTarguably the most remarkable war novel of all time—stand out simultaneously as beacons of writing excellence and as stark reminders of the horrors of war (Kirkus Reviews called my first book ‘an All Quiet on the Western Front from the American women’s perspective’ and I’m glad I somehow missed reading that at the time because, if I had seen it, I would have never written another word again, having already achieved more than I had ever dreamed possible).

 

How’s it been working with the team at Severn House on your latest publication?

It has been a sheer delight. I recommend them to all my writing colleagues. Severn House has allowed me so much creative freedom. Not just cover art, title choice, and the prominence of my name on the cover—‘little’ things readers might not realize are not always within an author’s control—but the essential liberty they gave me over my written word. My editor, Carl Smith, would make ‘editorial suggestions’—which I assumed was the polite, British way of saying ‘editorial demands.’  But they were suggestions, and I was free to accept—or reject—them. As a result of the respect he and the rest of the Severn House team had for me as an author and a creator, WHAT WE MAY BECOME has my voice and shows my passion like nothing I’ve ever written before.

“…WHAT WE MAY BECOME has my voice and shows my passion like nothing I’ve ever written before.”

Teresa Messineo reads to a live audience.

What do you love the most about connecting with your fans and readers?

I love their enthusiasm. Whether presenting to high school students, veterans, college kids, senior citizens, or aspiring authors of all ages, their excitement is infectious. They come to me with really intelligent, soul-searching questions—about my characters and their motivations and me and mine. While I love presenting all up and down the East Coast—and while my teaching online for Drexel University as a Professor of Creative Writing now allows me to reach students anywhere around the globe—the local groups and book clubs hold a special place for me. Berks County, Pennsylvania, has shown so much pride in their local girl who ‘made good,’ They will always have my heart.

 “New authors often forget that a tenacious literary agent is at the top of our hierarchy of needs.”

What do you feel makes for the best literary agent?

New authors often forget that a tenacious literary agent is at the top of our hierarchy of needs. Not only does a literary agent make the initial sale of the book, but he or she is visionary enough to see—and actively bring about—more and more incarnations of that creative work in different formats. Movie rights. Foreign print rights. Graphic representations. Even action figures. A good literary agent is someone you can bounce ideas off of for a new manuscript, talk to about your plans and goals as a creative artist, and rely on to make the most aggressive financial deals possible. Finally—and this is incredibly rare in the industry, so if you find it, hold onto it—a good literary agent is responsive, getting back to you promptly. I am blessed to have all this and more in my agent, Mark Gottlieb, of Trident Media Group. When I initially emailed Mark about representation, I remember closing my laptop after hitting send since most agents take up to six months to respond. I think I set myself a reminder to follow up on it sometime later that year and went for a run. When I got home, I saw I had missed his reply, saying he would be happy to discuss representation. He had sent it only six minutes after my initial query.

 

What are the qualities of a good editor?

A good editor is a good listener, first and foremost. While they are adept at all forms of editing, it is more their ability to see the big picture of where you, as an author, are coming from and letting that color influence how they approach your work that sets them apart. A good editor will draw your attention to any place in a manuscript where they got stuck—even for a split second—or confused about your meaning and encourage you to clarify and make it more comprehensible for the reader. I am incredibly grateful when this happens since one of the most powerful passages in WHAT WE MAY BECOME was preceded by a simple logistical question (was my main character or was not standing in the middle of the road?) which nagged at my editor's mind throughout the whole rest of the passage, thereby robbing it of its power. By adding two words, the distraction was eliminated, and the dreamlike, almost nightmarish sequence could flow to its surprisingly redemptive climax. But that would have been lost without good editing.

 

Reading anything for fun at the moment that you’re enjoying?

Shirley Jackson is known for her ability to portray madness and cruelty like no other, as exemplified in her famous short story, “The Lottery.” Imagine my delight, then, to discover JUST AN ORDINARY DAY, a previously unpublished collection her kids found in the proverbial attic. While the collection has a few dark stories, it contains primarily heart-warming, charming, and downright funny tales of everyday people facing domestic problems. This is akin to finding lost Edgar Allan Poe poems or short stories about his angst at not having enough ice cream for a birthday party, and I love it.

 “Tell your story. … The one that speaks to you and keeps you up at night.”

Any advice for hopeful writers looking to become published authors?

I am asked this question at every presentation I give. Yes. Tell your story. Not the story you think you ‘should’ tell, not even the one you think is most ‘publishable,’ but your story. The one that speaks to you and keeps you up at night. If you only had ten minutes left to live, what would you scribble down as your essence, as what you needed to be remembered? Okay, write that.

Next, I encourage everyone to do their best work–and ensure it’s polished and accessible. Seneca said luck is when opportunity and preparation meet, especially in writing. I got my break because a friend was having lunch with a prominent New York City editor the next day and asked if I happened to have a copy of my manuscript handy. I did and gave it to her, and it was ultimately published as a result. I had ready access to my manuscript, which was polished to my satisfaction—no typos, no glaring plot holes—so I could let go of it with a willing heart and let it go out into the world. Make sure you have that kind of confidence in everything you create.

 

Can you finish this sentence? I love writing because…

… it is the best job in the world. The Humanities bring humans together. I might create fictitious characters, but even they are composites of hundreds of people I’ve researched over the years. That realism comes through and makes them real to my readers—it touches them in ways I could never imagine. Last night, I was at a book club, speaking about post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) among nurses during the Second World War. And a woman came up to me afterward, thanked me, and told me all about her son, who came back from two tours in Iraq twenty years ago and is only now starting to find any joy or meaning in life. And I realized suddenly we are all connected. This woman now, her son twenty years earlier, the brave heroines I write about from seventy-five or eighty years ago in Occupied France or Anzio or the Philippines. We like to imagine we are all distinct, all separate, and that there is more that divides than unites us. But the more I research, and the more I write—and the more I meet people directly affected by my writing—I realize that was all a delusion. That ‘no man is an island.’ That the bonds of friendship, of loyalty, of courage despite fear and hope, despite loss and love, love above everything else, that is what I write about. That is my job. And I am the luckiest person in the world.

Mark GottliebComment