William Ian Grubman is a retired businessman, philanthropist, artist, author, art collector, and performing artist from Los Angeles, California. His art background prompted his interest in writing a crime novel set in the art world, resulting in The Storm over Paris, the first of three installments featuring the same family.
The fictional thriller is set during the Nazi occupation of Paris and centers on Mori Rothstein, whose expertise in the works of the masters has gained him a loyal following—but also the attention of Hermann Goering, the head of the Nazi Gestapo, who forces Rothstein to identify the most prized paintings for a museum being designed by Hitler. After Mori begins to recognize artworks he sold to others long ago and realizes they are stolen, he devises a daring plan with the help of his son, Émile, to smuggle the precious paintings out of the Nazis’ clutches. When a high-ranking German officer is killed, the Rothsteins find themselves on the run and drawn into a web of intrigue, kidnapping, and murder.
Grubman stopped by In Reference to Murder to talk about writing and researching his debut novel:
Several years ago, I decided to write a story about art forgery. I’ve been a student of art my entire life, as well as a collector. Unfortunately, I gave little thought to the process, and I had never attempted writing anything more than a column or two for a newsletter. Needless to say, I was beginning a journey, a long one, and discovered quickly that I was writing a novel about a family. Forgery would become a sub-plot.
It wasn’t difficult at first. I began with a character, added another, created a simple domestic scene, and was off. The problem was, after I finished a couple of pages, I realized I was on the wrong track. In my mind, I was writing a book that took place in present day New York. I discovered the story was something other than what I had planned. The plot wasn’t so much about art forgery as it was about a man and survival, and it didn’t take place in New York, nor was it present day. I had to go back. I had to go to Paris.
I’ve visited Paris many times and know my way around the city relatively well. The problem was, the Paris I know and Paris of the 1940s are quite different. My characters were coming to life, but I needed to understand what day to day life was like in a city controlled by the Nazis.
First, I turned to the internet for pictures, stories, and information; then to books. Hector Feliciano’s The Lost Museum provided a great deal of information about stolen art and the players on both sides of the trading table. That would help in creating the plot line between Mori and Goering. From there, Ronald C. Rosbottom’s historical account When Paris Went Dark helped provide me with a graphic view of the city. I recall when reading Rosbottom’s book, for some unexplained reason, my visuals were in black and white. Possibly a holdover from newsreels of the war. For whatever reason, color eluded me, as did the weather. Each time I thought of Paris during that period, it was black and white and cold. I decided my story would take place in the warm summer months, and I built in as much color as I could to a time shrouded in darkness.
In addition to reference books and the internet, my greatest asset was a map of Paris that sat beside my computer during the creation of my story. As I mentioned, I am familiar with the city, but the map brought intimate light, helping add detail to each scene. Additionally, I researched businesses that were in existence prior to 1940. That would bring depth to my story. I included a few of those names in the text and chose names that would be recognizable to my reader.
I did however make a conscious decision not to include the inner workings of the Louvre in the story. Doing that would have detracted from the intimacy of my tale, overshadowing the plight of the people of Paris. The inner workings of the Louver will have to wait for another book.
My characters began to unfold nicely, but their back stories required work. I found once I created their personas, physical as well as emotional, quirks, habits, likes, dislikes, etc. they came to life easily.
While the story progressed, I was still missing an important layer of the yarn: the hiding place. Without giving anything away about the plot, my biggest obstacle was where to place the stolen goods. That required a trip to Paris. I needed to see the city, walk its streets, put myself in Mori’s shoes.
One afternoon I was visiting Parc Monceau, one of the few parks I had never seen during previous trips to Paris. I was enchanted by its size and charm and discovered within its boundaries several follies that attracted my attention. Most notably, a pyramid with a small door on one side. Voila! I found what I was looking for. I found my hiding place. I was so excited. That jubilation was cut dramatically short when I realized the hiding place only worked if there was a method of transporting that which I wanted to hide.
It would be several weeks before the movable trash can would become a mode of transportation. Once I had a visualization of the object, designing it was easy.
There is one piece of research that I missed along the way. During various trips to the City of Lights, I have often strolled along the banks of the Seine for no other reason but to enjoy the beauty of Paris from the water’s edge. I’m not sure why, but for some unknown reason I had always believed the water to move in a distinct direction. That was the one thing I failed to research during the writing of The Storm over Paris, and an important part of the story. When the book was completed, my editor asked the question about the flow of the river. I was not only embarrassed, but shocked. That detail would require me to rewrite several scenes of the story.
I learned a very hard lesson from that (correctable) mistake ... one can never do enough research.
You can read more about William Ian Grubman and The Storm Over Paris via the author's website and also follow the author on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. The Storm Over Paris is now available via all major booksellers.
