A Pitch, More Research, And a Compromise

Well, I finally got that pitch done that I promised. The funny thing about pitches is that they take so little time compared to a synopsis. Not to mention, they read much better, too. I've only written one synopsis, and it was one of the most worthless pieces of writing I've ever produced. Anyway . . . here's the pitch. Maybe I'll get lucky and some editor from a place like Waterbrook or Bethany House will take a look at it. *cough*chokesonsarcasm*cough*

In The Other Battlefield, a work of historical fiction, U.S. Army surgeon Trey Whitney quickly learns that no amount of education could have ever prepared him for his work in a field hospital in the war-torn Mediterranean. It’s 1943, and when the Allies invade Sicily and then Italy, Trey’s mission to save lives threatened by violence and illness becomes a war in and of itself. Still grieving over the deaths of his wife and son four years before, he is in need of a different kind of healing—one for the festering wound of loss. Secretly sharing his need is a woman in the nursing corps, M.D. in hand, who becomes even more of an anomaly by rising to the status of his assisting surgeon. To further add to the intrigue of the 12th Field Hospital, a spy dwells among them. The dark plot of a maniacal villain slowly comes to light. As every thread weaves together to form the greatest confrontation of Trey’s life, he must learn before he loses everything that only God can heal the wounds of the heart.

I'm going to take a bet that there are some typos in there. I proof-read it, but those nasty little pests always manage to get in there anyway . . . so if you catch one, let me know.

Today had some more research in store. For instance, I learned that during the Sicilian campaign, tablets of something called Atabrine (technically called quinacrine hydrochloride) were given to Army personnel as a preventive measure against malaria. The tablets were yellow, and they had terrible side effects of nausea, diarrhea, and vomiting for the first several days of treatment. Prolonged consumption of these tablets also could cause the skin to turn yellow, according the one of the stories in Evelyn M. Monahan and Rosemary Neidel-Greenlee's And If I Perish: Frontline Army Nurses in World War II about a nurse who took Atabrine. Because of these side effects, the majority of soldiers didn't take their regular dosage and, consequently, came down with malaria.

Besides this research, I also finished character profiles for both the spy (all I can say of her right now is that her name is Emma) and Franz. Also, I did a couple mini-profiles for the supporting roles. Those profiles can be time consuming, to be sure. I'm glad they're done.

I've decided to make a compromise with myself. Since I doubt I'll have enough time to do thorough enough research for the entire novel, I'll focus on getting scene cards for Part 1 done before Thursday (the onset of NaNo). That would entail learning all that I can about Operation Husky (i.e., the invasion of Sicily). As I write througout the month of November, I'll have to designate time for research as well. So for this coming month, I'll be a student, a family member with responsibilities, a novelist, and a historian all at once. Somehow I get the feeling I won't have any free time--and not to say that's a bad thing. I'll be writing. In fact, for every one of November's 30 days, I should be happy as a clam.