Welcome to my tour stop for Chronicles from Chateau Moines by Evelyne Holingue. This is a middle grade historical fiction. The tour runs March 2-13 with reviews, interviews, guest posts and excerpts. Check out the tour page for the full schedule.
Chronicles from Chateau Moines
Author: Evelyne Holingue
Book Description:
September 1970: Scott’s mother has recently died and his father gets the crazy idea to move his family from California to Normandy. Now Scott has to learn to live without his mom while adjusting to France. In his seventh grade class there is only Ibrahim who comes from another country. Scott doesn’t even want to play his guitar anymore. Why does his father think that life will be better so far from home?
Scott has no idea that his arrival is also a challenge to Sylvie. While her best friend is excited to have an American boy at school, Sylvie cannot say one word to Scott. She can’t even write good songs in her notebook anymore. Why is life so different since Scott moved to Château Moines?
Set against the backdrop of the Vietnam War protest era and told from the perspectives of twelve-year old Scott and Sylvie, this is a story about loss and friendship, music and peace, and also about secrets.
Although this is a work of fiction, the cultural, social, and historical background of the early 1970s in France and the United States inspired the writing. At the end of the book the reader will find a list of the songs, the names of singers, and bands mentioned through the novel as well as some elements about fashion, immigration in France, the Vietnam War, and other cultural, social, and historical facts relevant to the period of time.
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Excerpt
Everything is New to Scott in the French Town of Chateau Moines (page 29-30)
Our house in Santa Monica had a view of the ocean. Now we live above an empty store in an old apartment. It has a fireplace in each room, but only one bathroom, with a weird tub. Dad says, “How can you not love an authentic white claw- footed tub?” I miss my shower stall. Fortunately, the French have separate rooms for the toilets, and although ours is no bigger than a closet, I can at least be alone for my personal business. Dad let me pick my room, and I chose the one with the French windows that open on a balcony. I can look out over a huge forest that spreads beyond the town.
Our house in Santa Monica had a view of the ocean. Now we live above an empty store in an old apartment. It has a fireplace in each room, but only one bathroom, with a weird tub. Dad says, “How can you not love an authentic white claw- footed tub?” I miss my shower stall. Fortunately, the French have separate rooms for the toilets, and although ours is no bigger than a closet, I can at least be alone for my personal business. Dad let me pick my room, and I chose the one with the French windows that open on a balcony. I can look out over a huge forest that spreads beyond the town.
Today is Saturday. I’m only now unpacking the boxes that have been piled in my room since we arrived. I stack my records against the wall. My record player fits right on top of the mantelpiece. The apartment has been unoccupied for many years and smells like wet mushrooms. I light a stick of incense, and the scent spirals through my room.
One by one I unroll my posters, and my life from before jumps to my eyes, but the familiar faces of the Beatles, Janis Joplin, Chicago, and Simon and Garfunkel can’t bring my real life back. I pin Janis above my bed, pushing the tacks in so hard it hurts my thumb.
I dig in another box and find my baseball and mitt. Besides the soccer field downtown I haven’t seen any sports field around, so I hook my Dodgers cap around the doorknob and stick the bat in a corner of my room.
I trail my fingers along my guitar. Dust flies away, catching the light. I haven’t played since Mom’s death. Everyone had a guitar back home, so Mom took me to the store to pick one I liked. After Mom died I wanted to give it away, but Dad said I would regret it. Maybe he’s right; now that I am so far from home, now that Mom has been dead for six months and I don’t have anything to do, I should give music another try.
About the Author I was born and raised in Normandy, France, where I spent most of my childhood reading.
My first published piece of writing was a poem about a man spending Christmas behind bars. I was eleven years old and wasn’t paid for my work, but I was hooked.
I studied French Literature at the Université de Caen and at the Sorbonne in Paris and worked in a publishing house before moving to California, following my husband.
It was a challenging time in my life as I was leaving my own career, my family, my friends and my beloved Paris behind. But how could I say no to the dreams of the man I love?
Readers enjoy escaping the familiar for the unknown. Being a foreigner is discovering the unknown day after day, not only for the time of a book. However, since most things in life come with a silver lining, I credit this move for giving me the opportunity to write. Through my words, I share my affection for my native and adoptive countries that I love equally.
***GIVEAWAY***
Two (2) kindle copies of Chronicles from Chateau Moines (INT).
Ends March 18th.
Blog Tour Organised by CBB Book Promotions:
A very lovely cover!
ReplyDeleteI love historical stories and this book is a great way for our young people to learn about a turbulent time world wide
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for hosting a tour stop!
ReplyDeleteI don't think I've ever tried readinh a historical fiction but I think this book will be a great start for me.
ReplyDelete