Those We Love Most (39 page)

For Kiki Koroshetz and her ability to keep all balls in the air effortlessly. Thank you to Beth Gebhard, who cared for this book and delivered a baby in the middle of it. And to Kristina Miller, publicist extraordinaire, who forgave my poor typing skills and type-A organization. Thanks to Marie Coolman and Bryan Christian for getting the word out.

To my agent, Richard Pine, whose sage advice and partnership has been invaluable.

A bazillion hugs to social media/literary expert Susie Stangland and her amazing family. Your friendship, enthusiasm, generosity, and innovation are legion. To Kathy Twietmeyer, another exceptional mother who has technical skills I can only hope to possess. Thanks for keeping it all straight.

To my dedicated and thoughtful early readers, Susan Baker, Jenn Brandt, Cristina Carlino, Carrie Cook, Lisa Gruber, Catherine Kroll, Megan Lucier, Vicki McHugh, Nancy McLoughlin, Nancy Palmer, Mindy Pressler, Jan Stabile, Susie Stangland, and Andrea Weiswasser.

To Melina Bodor, for an unexpected phone call that became the seed of this book, and to Kerri Ratcliffe, Elizabeth Arnot, and Laura Tarrish for their input and for listening to me ramble on about plot one long weekend.

Undying love to Gretchen Holt Witt and her husband, Larry, for sharing Liam and their journey with us. You can learn more and help at http://www.cookiesforkidscancer.org.

To Father Edward L. Beck for ensuring that this non-Catholic had her facts straight. Wet kisses to Harlan Coben, Catherine Coulter, and Adriana Trigiani for encouraging me after they read the manuscript and for all of the other writers and authors who make up the webbing of mutual support and encouragement in this often lonely and sometimes painful process. You know who you are.

To the people who helped me get my facts straight—my de facto military advisors Sheila Casey and Anne Marie and Capt. Kevin Dougherty, USMC, for making sure it rang true. For O. Alton Barron, MD, and Col. Rocco A. Armonda, MD, for medical scrutiny. To the Rye police for teenage DUI background and to our family veterinarian, Dr. Gina Antiaris at Miller-Clark Animal Hospital.

For all the book bloggers, bookstore employees, and beloved in-die bookstores who cleared me a space on their shelves, suggested this read, tweeted a kind word, or put a bottle of water on the podium, thanks for your dedication to the writing life.

My admiration goes to the caregivers, parents, spouses, siblings, and loved ones who endlessly give of themselves to make life easier for those they love most. Respect and gratitude for our military families who serve on behalf of our country. You are all my heroes.

And last but never least, to my parents, Terry and David McConaughy, who set me on a course of knowing I was loved unconditionally. And that has made all the difference in how I move through the world.

Those We Love Most
is a sensitive, emotionally complex window into what happens when a family is cracked open and must learn to heal. The story explores the seasons of marriage and the surprising effects of grief on our bonds with the people we love most dearly. When Maura and Pete Corrigan’s oldest son, James, is killed by a distracted teen driver, the fissures in their relationship are revealed. In the wake of James’s death, the ugly sides of marriage, the secrets long kept tucked away, and the allure of a break from everyday reality—from a tryst in Florida to another beer at the local pub—all come to light and threaten to shatter the struggling family. But slowly, over time and with brave first steps, James’s death forces everyone left behind to fight their way to a new normal and to create revised reasons to believe in life beyond loss.

1.
Those We Love Most
has moments that are dark and painful. Why do you think the author chose to write something that examines this side of life so intricately?

2. Lee Woodruff has personal experience dealing with critically injured family members. Her husband, Bob, was struck by a roadside bomb in Iraq while reporting on the war, and he suffered critical injuries and spent a year in speech and physical therapy. How much of Lee’s life did you feel coming through in this story?

3. How guilty do you think Maura was in James’s accident and death? Must some party always be guilty, even if their actions were unintended? Is there such a thing as a guilt-free accident?

4. How did Maura’s own feelings of guilt grow and change throughout the book?

5. How did each character process and work through their grief? Who handled the grief in a healthy way, and who handled it destructively? Lee writes, “[Maura] marveled for more than the hundredth time how differently men and women grieved.” How did men and women grieve differently in
Those We Love Most
?

6. An ongoing theme in
Those We Love Most
is the ebb and flow of loving relationships and the changing currents of affection between people. How did James’s death alter the currents of love between couples (both married and illicit)?

7. Another theme this book explores is secrets. Do you think it’s possible to have a good marriage and still keep secrets? Do you have a secret (or secrets) you’ve kept from your spouse and has it had an effect on your marriage? Would you ever confess?

8. Along those lines, is there one person to whom you confess your secrets? If it’s not a partner or spouse, who is it? Does every person need one confidante?

9. Lee writes that before James’s death, Maura and Pete were “heading down that easy slipstream in marriage where the valuable, intimate parts begin to erode in a tidal wave of banality.... How much was enough love?” How much love do you think is enough in a marriage? Why do you think Maura and Pete’s marriage survived James’s death?

10. Do you think Alex will be able to overcome the trauma of killing James? Was going into the military a good choice for Alex?

11. Margaret’s characterization as a stoic, firm, emotionally controlled matriarch is written with reverence and respect. Do you agree with Margaret’s emotional choices? What flaws, if any, did you find with the characterization of Margaret?

12. What roles are sainted in the book? What roles are scorned? Do you agree with these value judgments?

13. How did Roger’s stroke alter the trajectories of the central relationships in the book? What were the positive effects, if any, of the stroke?

14. The entire Corrigan family is extremely privileged: none of the women currently has a full-time job, and money is never an issue. In what ways, if at all, did the Corrigans’ privilege affect their healing processes after James’s accident? How would the grieving process have played out differently if the women (Maura, Erin, and Margaret) had needed to return to full-time jobs? Do you think privilege can ever ease grief?

15. How do you think the book’s central relationships would have played out differently if James had survived the accident? Consider the triangles of Maura, Pete, and Art and Roger, Julia, and Margaret.

16. Toward the end of the book, Margaret thinks, “It was difficult times that let you understand good fortune; you could take an accounting of what you had in a way you weren’t able to when life ran smoothly.” Do you think people need to go through hard times in order to appreciate other aspects of life and family?

17. How were Roger’s and Maura’s motivations to be unfaithful and their entanglements the same or different?

What was your writing process like? How much of the plot did you plan out in advance, and how much came to you as you wrote? Were there any twists or revelations that you surprised yourself with?

This novel grew out of a real-life experience. I was out of town and a friend called me in a panic. A seventeen-year-old driver in her town had struck a child, and I can still picture the hotel room I was in all these years later. The child had suffered a brain injury, and my friend wanted to know if I would talk to the parents and provide some hope based on my own family’s experiences. After I hung up, I kept thinking about that one pivotal “in-an-instant” moment and all the lives that had been affected by a split-second action.

That call formed the basis for a fictional story about how one pebble dropped in a pond ripples out in many directions. Although I never ended up talking to the real-life parents, and thankfully the real-life boy recovered, the seeds for this novel evolved from that one phone call.

I didn’t start the book with a definitive idea of what was going to happen to each of the characters. I began by finding each of them a voice and giving them some secrets, and then the story kind of took over. About midway through, I began to plot out exactly how events would begin tying together. My biggest challenge was figuring out what would happen to Alex, where he would intersect with Maura, and then how his actions and subsequent decisions would change the course of his future.

I think the biggest surprise was what happened to Roger. I didn’t originally conceive of his crisis, and once I had begun writing him, I realized it was the starting point for Margaret and him to forge a solid path back to each other.

This is your first novel, but not your first book. How was writing fiction different for you from writing nonfiction? Which do you prefer?

To me, fiction is so much harder to get right than nonfiction. With my first two books,
In an Instant
and
Perfectly Imperfect
, the facts of my life were, well, the facts, and so the art form is in figuring out how to tell the tale or present and edit it in an interesting way.

With fiction, it’s like starting from modeling clay. You can make your characters do or feel or say anything that you want, and so you have a big responsibility to end up with something plausible that hangs together. That also means that the sky is the limit, so it’s more about narrowing choices.

Those We Love Most
is an emotionally complex book. Why did you choose to write about such a difficult topic and such a difficult time in the Corrigan family? Was the book emotionally draining to write?

I read and love all kinds of genres, but the books that have stayed with me over time tend to be those that deal with the emotional complexities of real human issues. I am fascinated by the moments when we are tested and forced to reach down to find out exactly what stuff we are made of. People respond to tragedy in heroic and sometimes not so heroic ways. I wanted to examine the process of life coming unglued and then look at all the strengths and the wonderful qualities that lie within us to do the right thing for the ones we love most.

The business of living is chock-full of so many extremes, and while there are parts of this book that deal with sadness, real life is a complete stew of love, loss, joy and sorrow, betrayal, triumph, and achievement.

I think the intricacies within families—the secrets people hold, the love that ebbs and flows in marriages and relationships, and the bond between a parent and child—are all interesting themes we can relate to.

I also liked the idea of looking at multigenerational and cross-sectional layers of the family: fathers and daughters, mothers, sisters, and grandchildren. The father’s and daughter’s decisions about what to do with the choices their infidelities present were an extra layer. Each had the power to destroy what they had built or knit it back together.

There are definitely little aspects of my own real-life journey. For example, I drew upon my husband Bob’s own experience being injured by a roadside bomb in Iraq to write some of the emotions required in the hospital and rehabilitation scenes.

You write, “It was difficult times that let you understand good fortune; you could take an accounting of what you had in a way you weren’t able to when life ran smoothly.” Do you feel this is true, from a personal perspective?

Absolutely. We all get sick of trite phrases about taking life for granted, but the truth is that the contours in life, the good days chased by a bad day, all allow us to get a perspective on what really matters. If there was a blue sky every single day, you would lose the perspective to fully appreciate it. Likewise, having a few challenges makes the happier, peaceful times all the sweeter. It reminds us to be more in the moment.

The most interesting people I know, the ones I want to talk to at a dinner party, are the people who have faced some kind of adversity, in whatever form that may take.

You say on your Web site that in college you dreamed of writing novels one day but were waylaid by the reality of needing a job right away. What does it feel like to finally achieve your novel-writing dream? Do you have any advice for aspiring authors who need a paying job but still hope to write for a living?

It feels amazing to be a published author. I’d tell any aspiring author to just keep finding those moments to write. Dedicated writers say to write three hours a day, but I’ve always worn many hats and have never been able to carve that out as a working mother. Three hours ain’t gonna happen in my life right now! But I write whenever I can, on planes, in hotel rooms, sometimes early weekend mornings. I say to anyone who wants to write a book that you can do it. Just keep plugging. There is no one right formula.

Which character would you most like to take out to dinner? What would you want to ask him or her?

I’d want to take out Margaret. But I’d need to be able to ply her with wine and loosen her lips. I’m fascinated by women of my mother’s era who were taught to keep up appearances: the 1950s–’60s housewife who was supposed to burnish the family’s public image to perfection and not demonstrate weakness, sadness, or fear.