It is a matter of professional pride and ethics for historians to meticulously research their subject matter and present it accurately in their writing. Authors of historical fiction, however, have a slightly different expectation to live up to. We strive to maintain a balance between portraying the true events of days gone by and creating an entertaining version of history. We attempt to blend a degree of historical accuracy and a healthy dose of make believe.

Because many people in today’s world learn about history through novels rather than textbooks or other non-fiction sources, it is important for historical fiction writers to get their facts right. And if we want readers to fully enjoy what we’ve written, the story-line must be well developed and entertaining.

While writing my first historical novel, I often found myself walking the line between relating reality and crafting fiction. My original intent in Choosing Sides was to capture the stories my father had shared about his parents’ decision to emigrate from Germany in the years leading up to World War II. I wanted to put into print my Dad’s experiences as a member of the Hitler Youth. I knew the family had moved back and forth between Germany and the United States several times. I knew from family lore about their meeting with Adolf Hitler and the dramatic ocean rescue in December 1934 that led to this occasion. And I knew that my Opa, as he shook hands with der Fϋhrer, felt as if he’d just looked the devil in the eyes—and determined then and there, that they must leave Deutschland for good.

But my children, my nephews and nieces, and so many other family members knew little, if anything, about all this. So I set out to write down the stories and put them in historical context of the time. I had my recollections of how Dad related it all to me. And I had a good understanding of events that led up to the Second World War. I did, after all, major in history at college, with a focus on Germany between the wars. All I had to do was take pen to paper. Or so I imagined.

As I got into it, I realized there were a great many gaps in my knowledge on the geo-political and socio-economic situation in the Weimar Republic and the reactions of the German populace to the rising Nazi Party. I was not familiar with the details of my grandfather’s military service, fighting for Germany in World War I. I did not know the specifics of the family emigration records, the ocean rescue my grandfather was part of, and what life was like for German-American immigrants during Hitler’s ascendancy.

To correct these deficiencies, I started research into these and a myriad of other related topics; all while writing the first draft. Combining historical background with my first attempt at capturing the family stories, I came away with what my wife lovingly called “a nice 90,000-word term paper.” It was, at best, something a few of my family members might read. It was dry and lacking in emotion, devoid of any character development, description of settings, dialogue or buildup of personal feelings and tension between family members. If I wanted anyone else to read it, I needed to liven it up.

Through subsequent drafts I did so, adding the elements that separate historical fiction from historical narrative. The extent to which I accomplished this, or the degree of success I have achieved, is a matter for readers to decide. But I need to be up front with them that all the dialogue is contrived. There were no recordings made during the crucial conversations my family members had back in the day. My descriptions of the settings—on board vessels, around the kitchen table, outside of the family homestead, or on the streets of Hamburg—are largely based on pictures in my head, not actual photographs. The emotions expressed by my characters are my own interpretation of how my dad, my grandparents, and other family members must have felt; not from diaries or letters they exchanged. I just did not have any such sources from which to work. And, finally, some of the characters in Choosing Sides are purely fictional. As it says in the front of the book “not based on any real person, living or dead.”

But while my novel has a healthy dose of fiction, in writing the six drafts that brought it to life I was guided by a desire to portray events, conversations, and emotions that very well could have been real. Certain scenes in the book may not have happened to my family members, but they represent events that did happen to others; events that my people could very well have experienced. I’ve tried to put myself not only in my characters’ shoes, but in their very souls. I did know some of the characters (my Dad, his parents, and a number of his aunts, uncles, and cousins) and have portrayed their feelings in a way I believe they must have felt. Other characters, who are lesser known to me or, in a few cases, totally fabricated, represent the more complete range of human emotions felt by people living in the dark days of Nazi tyranny and the Holocaust.

My aim in writing about an ordinary family in Hitler’s Germany was to develop the reader’s understanding of what it meant to live in that time and place, especially for a young boy who grew up on both sides of the Atlantic. Many readers know something about the Hitler Youth, for example, but few realize it reached its zenith in power under the stewardship of a man who was three-quarters American. And hardly anyone is familiar with the rescue of the SS Sisto in December of 1934—a pivotal event in my family story and an event that Herr Hitler used masterfully for Nazi propaganda purposes. I wrote of these things in the belief that a historical novelist can use their writing to entertain and educate.

Historical novelists can promote an understanding of history, and the lessons it offers for today, by appealing to the reader’s emotions. As the renowned historian and novelist E. L. Doctorow put it: “The historian will tell you what happened. The novelist will tell you what it felt like.” The greats—from James Clavell and Margaret Mitchell to Kristin Hannah and Anthony Doerr—do just that.

I’ve based the story and my characters in my book, then, on historical accounts, on the assessments of scholars and historians, on my understanding of some interesting family stories, and my own reflection on human nature. I think that’s what historical fiction, at its best, is all about.