Her last gift to me, her last secret, I thought, as a soft wind swirled around me, almost like a hug.

While Sergei grumbled, “Anybody surprised, raise their hand.”

THE END

Author’s Note

This is the book that broke me.

Two years ago, I saw an art documentary briefly mention Johanna Bonger, and I knew I wanted to write about her. There was only one problem. I write genre fiction (under the pen name Dana Marton): fantasy, romance, suspense. I don’t write historical fiction. I don’t write women’s fiction. I don’t write stories based on true events.

I threw myself into the work anyway, settling on a past-present dual timeline. I thought that Jo’s story was so sad, it needed a lighter counterbalance in the form of a modern-day heroine. Since Emsley is an auctioneer, I had to do some research for her, but the effort paled in comparison to the research I had to do on Johanna. Especially because her descendants kept her diaries locked away, granting access to no one, not even academic researchers. So I went about painstakingly collecting tidbits of her life through a multitude of sources, a reference here, an anecdote there. I combed through hundreds of letters between Vincent and Theo for mention of her. Older books were my best sources, but they were out of print, unavailable in ebook format, and were selling in the hundred-plus dollar range each. (I’m pretty sure I currently have the best Van Gogh library on the East Coast.)

The story I came up with helped me get a wonderful agent. Submissions went out to twenty publishers. All wanted the manuscript. I’m not saying I was envisioning a bidding war (I was), but I was hopeful.

Then the first rejection came in. Then the second. Then the third. Then the nineteenth. The last publisher kept considering it for well over a year. I became convinced that my writing was bad. That I couldn’t write. That I shouldn’t write again.

I ran out of money. (I depend on a regular publishing schedule.) I started looking for jobs online. After close to two decades of being a full-time author, for the first time, I seriously considered quitting. But Jo kept whispering to me from the past. You can do it. Just do it yourself.

She never quit.

How could I? Wasn’t my whole point to learn about this indomitable woman and introduce her to others?

I emailed my agent. I withdrew the manuscript from submission. The story was mine again, its fate in my hands. But I couldn’t do this alone. I asked my readers on Facebook to give me an opinion on the project. Several angels volunteered to do a quick read, and they encouraged me to move forward. Without them, you would not be holding this book in your hands.