The Bridge at Dawn: Author Interview with Krin Van Tatenhove
I recently interviewed Krin Van Tatenhove, the Story Sanctum fiction editor and author of the new book The Bridge at Dawn, available now on Amazon and other online retailers.
The Bridge at Dawn is a book with a lot of humanity. It's a redemptive story, a human story, and a love story, with interesting characters and lots of unexpected twists. What was your inspiration for The Bridge at Dawn? How did the story develop?
Those who know me also know the arc of my personal story. It includes some deeply rough patches with my own recovery. I have been very honest about this, even during the national exposure afforded by one of my previous books. My rationale is that candor about our struggles as human beings can help take away the stigma and shame from addiction, abuse, mental illness, suicidal ideation, and other traumatic realities we endure.
In a way, The Bridge at Dawn is an extension of my lifelong commitment to hearing the stories of those who are hurting. This was a hallmark of my decades as a pastor, where I was known for never turning anyone away. As a friend once said, “If Krin is serving at your church, you could hang up a banner over the front door that proclaims, ‘Characters Welcome!’”
I intentionally seek out the “least of these” in any community, looking to love them and partner with them. This has led me into advocacy for those trapped in gang life, experiencing poverty, and going through a season of being unhoused.
The characters in this book are composites of the many—often surprising—stories I have heard during my years of service.
The first part of the book is set in a homeless encampment. Henry is reeling from a devastating loss and is making the rounds caring for the community where he is also living. Why did you choose this setting and what were you hoping to convey in these scenes?
As I just mentioned, I’ve always aligned myself with efforts to combat homelessness. For one of my previous books, I actually went undercover as a homeless person, spending a couple nights in a shelter. I then asked the director of that center to help me arrange interviews with men and women in various stages of their rehab programs. As I always say, everyone has a story, and if we take the time to listen, our lives intersect with theirs and our horizons expand.
Grief is a theme in the book. I've heard it said, every story is about death. It's certainly central to the human story, and never far from our experience. The two lead characters in the book, and other support characters, are trying to heal from past wounds and loss. Why was this an important theme for you to explore? What are some things you've learned about grief in this process of writing this book or what are some lessons your characters learn along the way?
You’re right, Shawn. We are always in the midst of both life and death. I remember so many mornings leading worship, looking out on people in those congregations who were celebrating recent marriages, childbirth, or the launching of new careers. And they were sitting next to those who had just lost loved ones, their jobs, or their physical health. It’s the matrix of our lives.
Henry, the main character of the book, ponders a quote by Francis Weller that has always spoken to me, “The work of the mature person is to carry grief in one hand, gratitude in the other, and to be stretched large by them.” Henry finds that the stretching in his own life seems more than he can bear, and gratitude is hard to muster. I think many of us can relate to this, despite all the easy maxims about “thinking positively.”
Finally, I was also a part-time hospice chaplain for a number of years, a calling that ran parallel to my time in the parish. Researchers have tried to codify grief, casting it in terms of stages or tasks. Some of those theories are helpful. But I found grief to be incredibly messy and unexpected, with each person slogging through it in their own way. I tried to practice a ministry of presence, just being with them on their journeys without any canned answers.
Do you have a favorite character or a character you relate with most? Why?
Henry, for sure. Personally, as someone with a doctoral degree, I have found myself in beloved recovery communities that bore out a clear theme. Addiction, like so many struggles, is no respecter of class, color, age, or education. Henry is a prime example of this, and he ultimately uses this knowledge to give himself some purpose.
Henry and Cindy take a journey to a commune along the Columbia River Gorge to heal. Was this community inspired by any real communities you've experienced?
Definitely. A wonderful community on the island of Maui called Lokahi, a Hawaiian word that means harmony. The people there helped me understand deeper dimensions of what it means to live as an intentional community.
There are references to ayahuasca in the book. What's your experience with that and why did you chose to include that?
I’m not the only one in our culture who has experimented with different “medicines” as a way of expanding awareness. Henry remembers a colleague of his at the university who taught a course called Altered States that included writings by Aldous Huxley, Carlos Castaneda, Ram Dass, Alan Watts, and Timothy Leary. That’s all I want to say about that.
Do you have a favorite passage or scene that you'd like to share?
Despite its heavy thematic material, my novel ultimately celebrates spiritual awakenings and healing. I love these words from one of the characters named Manis, describing a vision he had.
“I was lying on the ground near the firepit, staring up at the stars. I could hear Oscar’s beautiful strumming and what I thought was the whispering of some of you around the fire. But then I realized that the whispering was a myriad of voices from the forest, the air, and the stars above me. The whispers gathered into the sound of wind blowing over me and I felt my body literally growing into the ground, as if I was taking root into the mycelial network, the woodwide web all around us. And the stars…how can I even describe them? It was like they were dancing.”
His usually expressive eyes grew even brighter. “I felt a sense of oneness with the cosmos and yet I didn’t feel that I had dissolved into it. I remained Manis, a joyous part of the sacred temple in which we exist. My own consciousness is part of this mystery people have called God, Spirit, Creator, and it was this very force that was looking out beside me through my eyes. It was a partnership, not an intrusion. It was the deepest feeling of love I have ever experienced.”
The book starts and ends on the bridge at dawn. So what happens on the bridge at dawn? I know, I know, we have to read the book, but is there anything you'd like to share about the bridge or the ending without spoiling it?
You said it. Read the book! LOL!
In addition to social themes and interesting plot points, the book is also an unexpected love story. I liked how they slowly become vulnerable over the course of the book, gradually revealing their pasts and wondering if it can really work. It also shows the blossoming of love in some very nontraditional and real circumstances. Did you originally think it would be a love story and what, if anything, served as a model for their relationship?
Yes, I originally envisioned this book as a love story, though the unfolding of that romance took on a life of its own. Think of it as being on a tandem bicycle with your book. At times you’re in the front seat, setting the pace, feeling like you’re in control. But there are other times when the book takes command and you’re in the second seat, trying hard to keep up. I think any writer can relate to this phenomenon.
One thing it says on the back of the book is that it's "a reminder to see the humanity in everyone." You really make that point throughout the book in surprising ways, even looking at those we might consider the enemy. Why was that an important message for you and why is that a timely message in our world?
You and I both know, Shawn, how divided this world can be, especially in America which is in thrall to its fractious divisions. When we get swept up in these political, ideological, and racial differences, we start treating other people as types. It is so hard, even for me, to get past that and connect with the Imago dei, the image of God in each person.
For instance, I have a neighbor who strongly supports a political candidate that is in opposition to everything I hold dear. Yet that neighbor would give me the shirt off his back if I asked. I try to remember that. As Jesus reportedly said, “If you love only those who love you in return, why should you get credit for that?”
Is there anything else you'd like to share about the book?
If it helps anyone, anywhere, increase their compassion of “the other” in their midst, none of my effort will have been in vain.
Thank you Krin!
Be sure and pick up a copy of the book. It's available now for only $0.99 on eBook.
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