In late April I had the fortune to meet Author Lynn Cullen while attending the Alabama Book Festival in Montgomery, Alabama. She was taking part in a workshop in discussing the process of writing historical fiction when I also had the fortune to be introduced to her latest literary work, Twain’s End, (Gallery Books, an imprint of Simon & Schuster).
Since meeting Lynn, a paperback edition of her book has been released as well.
Lynn’s book is a 300-page magical blend of fact and fiction intertwined with dashes of literary prose so poignant that it bears the sweet smell of the hydrangeas so oft preferred by the likes of Mark Twain and more so, Sam Clemens.
As a reader, one can’t discern the difference between what actually happened and the reading between the lines that Lynn has so carefully filled in–like a brick layer setting mortar and bricks under the watchful eye of Clemen’s personal secretary, Isabel Lyon, as she helped manage the building of his famous Connecticut home, Stormfield, in Redding.
All the critical elements of storytelling are wrapped delicately in the telling of this tale of love, conflict, and self-redefinition. Lynn helps us all see, through the eyes of an omniscient narrator, the emotional and mental struggles that plagued one of America’s greatest writers–some of the same troubles we all bear even today.
There is beauty in the poetry of the writing of Lynn Cullen. Often times I found myself reaching for my iPhone to pull up a word she used to paint her imaginary scenes–words that I would then write down in my personal writer’s notebook to hopefully employ once again in a tale of my own choosing.
For its historical value or not, Twain’s End is an enjoyable read and I strongly encourage you to pick up a copy as soon as you may.
Like all of us, Sam Clemens put on masks to create a world that was kinder and gentler than the one he apparently knew. For the writer in me, passages where she framed the thoughts and events surrounding childhood wounds Clemens alleges, provided insight that’s value can not soon be measured.
In Chapter 30, Lynn has Hellen Keller ask the most pointed question of the work: “Don’t we all make up our own worlds?”
And therein lies the heart of the message in reading this book.
In my own writing–three as yet unpublished full length works which you can read more about here–I have found relief from the pains of this life–ways to write (intended) wrongs out of existence; ways to heal pains of days that long since have passed me by that still hurt as much as paper slicing a finger’s flesh.
Pick up a copy of Lynn Cullen’s book, Twain’s End in hardback or paperback. You will be doing yourself a mental treat.