QUERY:
A parcel of land is the connecting thread between several generations of strangers in the 60,000-word literary fiction novel THE ORCHARD.
In the midst of the Great Depression, widow Gwendolyn Meeker Hobbs enlists the help of seasoned farmhand Charlie and protégé Phillip to run her citrus orchard. Faced with financial difficulties, Gwendolyn must begin selling off her acreage.
As the property passes from one owner to the next, the rural landscape gives way to urbanization, and the struggles of its inhabitants reflect the changing times. Ryuichi Nakamura moves his family to Southern California to grow a new kind of strawberry, but when America enters World War II, his life is changed forever. Carl Roberts wants his piece of the American Dream, but he soon realizes prosperity comes at a high price. Suburban housewives Hazel and Cora struggle to find their place in a modern world while one of them grapples with a life-threatening secret. And George, who has hit rock bottom, finds renewed hope in the wake of a devastating wildfire.
Set against a rich backdrop of California history, THE ORCHARD is a compelling tale of perseverance, despair, transformation and hope that will engage readers from the first harvest until the last trees are lost to eminent domain.
FIRST250 WORDS
Gwendolyn tied her apron securely
over her mourning dress and smoothed the fabric nervously. From her kitchen
window, she kept a watchful eye on the squall as she dried the breakfast
dishes. Out in the orchard, the citrus trees swayed in unison under the darkened
sky, their branches quivering in anticipation of those first drops of rain.
Like those trees in the grove, Gwendolyn longed for the quenching showers
promised by the impending storm. Though not the worst drought she’d seen, it
had been the hardest to weather.
Upstairs
a loose shutter banged against the wall, informing her of a window she
neglected to fasten. A flash of lightning illuminated the orchard, allowing a
momentary glimpse of the trees, shaking wildly, their gentle rain dance now
abandoned to the force of the gale.
Gwendolyn
counted to herself, one, two, three…
In
all her years marking the seconds, she never ceased being surprised by the
thunder. But more on edge than usual, she took a double fright when the
thunderclap echoed among the trees and rattled the panes throughout the house.
The skillet she was drying slipped from her hands and clattered against the
cast iron sink.
She
unlatched the casement window and nudged it open. The crisp air wafted in and
mixed with the stale warmth of the kitchen. She drew in a deep breath, and the
aroma of the citrus, the garden, and the dampness filled her lungs. In that
moment he was there, his arm around her waist, smelling of tobacco and dirt.
She exhaled and the tears flowed.
