Bestselling author, Angela Petch, released ‘Tuscan Girl’ last week. I started to read the novel on a stormy Saturday night and awoke at dawn to finish the book. Lost stories of war, hidden treasure and buried memories gripped me. As a writer, I wanted to learn how this talented author manages to weave such captivating stories. I am honoured Angela wrote a letter to explain the inspiration behind Tuscan Girl. Sit back and enjoy a writer’s tour of Italy.
In the Tuscan Apennines, where I spend six months of every year, I can step out of our front door straight into wild countryside. Our area is less populated after post war exodus, when people left for work abroad and in big cities and so I come across many ruined houses along the mule tracks that crisscross our hills and valleys.
Each abandoned dwelling holds a potential story and my imagination goes into overdrive, trying to guess what might have gone on within these walls, now strangled with weeds.
When I was seven years old, my father accepted a job in Rome as deputy head of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission. They were formative years and I picked up Italian like a little sponge. I’ve wheedled out stories behind these houses by chatting to elderly friends and through my research. We are lucky to have the national archive of diaries in nearby Pieve Santo Stefano and I’ve spent hours poring over handwritten resources.
One of my friends is Bruno Vergni, one hundred years old last January 13th. I met him seven years ago on one of my hikes. I stopped to chat as he pruned an apple tree and, to my huge surprise, he responded in English. He explained that he had been a POW in Nottingham, having been captured in Libya early in the war.
I researched more about Bruno’s war and he is now one of the main characters in “The Tuscan Girl” (albeit tweaked with my own ideas). He now lives with his son, but in my story I have placed him in one of the semi-deserted hamlets called Tramarecchia.
A favourite walk is up to the beautiful Alp of the Moon, (1,400 metres). We stopped to picnic by a pile of stones and read a sign posted by the local partisan association. Up here, in the summer of 1944, a group of young men planned their resistance missions. After researching and meeting a local historian, Alvaro Tacchini, more ideas for my book were gleaned.
An abandoned chapel, two houses on the outskirts of the village, empty because of a brothers’ squabble, the outline of a Medici fortress… all ruins waiting to be written about in future books.
Angela’s explanation connected me to Alba who treks around the remote Tuscan villages and rebuilds the ruins in her paintings. She discovers ‘The paths…like arteries leading to the heart of new stories.’ I enjoyed treading these paths with Alba and look forward to more stories.