The Persimmon Tree is unashamedly a love story. I’ve always wanted to write one but until now have been afraid to do so. The reason is simple enough: most men in my experience have very little idea of what really goes on in a woman’s heart or head. Now, at the age of 74, I just might know enough and have sufficient courage to write on the subject – the way of a man with a woman, of a woman with a man.
My story is set in the Pacific, although not in the paradise we’ve always been led to believe exists there. It is 1942 in Java and the Japanese are invading the islands like a swarm of locusts.
I have tried to capture the essence of love – how in a world gone mad with malice and hate, it has the ability to forgive and to heal. As it is in this story, love is always hard earned but, in the end, a most wonderful and necessary emotion. Without love, life for most of us would lack true meaning.