Meghan Holloway is currently working on a story about a WWI veteran and on a desperate search for his son in war-torn France in 1944. His name is Rhys Griffin and Meghan is here today to tell us a little about him. I don’t know about you, but I am delighted to meet him and look forward t0 reading more about his story when it comes out! Please help me welcome, Meghan.
Meghan, who is Rhys Griffin?
Rhys is a veteran of the Great War. He is a son, a widower, a father, and he followed in the footsteps of the men of his family and took over the Griffin sheep farm when his father died. He is a simple man of quiet depth, more at home in the hills in Wales than in the streets of Paris in the wake of the liberation in 1944, when my story begins. He is down to earth, calm and stalwart, not prone to temper or to effusive emotions. He is really a man of his time, and in my story, he is a man on a desperate journey.
What are his strengths?
He is a man of great perseverance. This is a man who survived the horrors of the Somme and who spends his days toiling as a sheep farmer. He doesn’t let difficulty or exhaustion or physical pain stop him when he sets his mind to something. Once he decides to do something, he is tireless in that pursuit.
Rhys is stubborn, and he is not very tolerant of those whose opinions differ from his. I wouldn’t say it’s a fault, but an important aspect of his character is that he is not a man who believes in forgiveness. He is searching for his estranged son not to ask his forgiveness–he still thinks what his son did was wrong–but to recapture the bond they once had and to heal the chasm between them.
What is your personal opinion of him?
Rhys Griffin is a character I greatly admire. He is masculine without having to say so, strong without having to prove it. He is a man with whom you could traipse silently and comfortably through the heathered hills. I appreciate his traditional ideals and his staunch perseverance in life. He is absolutely my favorite character I’ve written.
About Maghan Holloway
“My dearest darling …” That was how my grandfather began all of his letters to my grandmother while he was stationed in Okinawa in World War II. I never knew my grandfather, but I’ve poured over his letters. I used to draw lines up the back of my legs, just as my grandmother had as a young woman whose nylons had been donated to make parachutes, and I’ve endlessly pestered my paternal grandfather for stories of his childhood and service. The worn letters and patiently-told stories cemented my interest in history, especially in the WWII era.
I found my first Nancy Drew mystery in a sun-dappled attic at a friend’s house and subsequently fell in love with the grip and tautness of a well-told mystery. I flew an airplane before I learned how to drive a car, did my undergrad work in a crumbling once-all girls school in the sweltering south, spent a summer and fall in Maine picking peaches and apples, finished my graduate work in an all-girls school in the blustery north, and traveled the world for a few years. Now I’m settled down in the foothills of the Appalachians, writing my third and fourth novels, and hanging out with my standard poodle.