My Love Affair with France
People ask me occasionally where I’m from. They seem to have a hard time believing me when I tell them I was born in Lexington, Kentucky, and lived there until I was eighteen and went off to college (and to see the world). “But your books are all set in France….” It’s not a question, really. More of an observation, but one that subtly requests an explanation.
So I should start by saying that not all my books are set in France. Of my current published or contracted novels, only half of them are set in France. Of course, of the other half, one is set in Spain, one is set in outer space, one is in the Caribbean, and one is in a complete alternate universe, so my ratio of France to US in settings isn’t quite as high.
That said, I have nine current or upcoming books set in various parts of France. That’s enough to merit the observation and an explanation. So why France?
I fell in love with the French language when I was twelve years old. I had an absolutely fabulous French teacher who made learning fun. More than that, speaking French was like remembering something I’d forgotten. (My sisters, in a fit of jealousy, decided I must have been Joan of Arc in a past life because nobody should have been able to learn another language as quickly and easily as I did French.) I decided right then whatever else I did in my life, I was going to speak this language so well no one would even question my nationality when I went to France.
Ten years later, I reached that goal.
I went to France for the first time as a junior in college and had the good fortune to live with an incredible family who welcomed me in and still (19 years later) introduces me as their American daughter when I go back to visit. I also had the good fortune to meet the man I later married. (He’s from India, not France, but that’s a different story.) The combination of the generosity of my adoptive family and the memories of falling in love made that semester the highlight of my college career.
Two years later, I had the opportunity to go back and teach in France for a year. I jumped at the chance, and I swore by the time I left, no one would ever again say to me, “Oh, you speak French so well for an American.” Everyone who said it intended it as a compliment. I always knew that. But if they said it, I’d said something wrong, and that was unacceptable.
I haven’t heard that sentence, except from people who know me and so know I’m American, since halfway through that year.
That’s the history, the facts, but I was one of twenty students who went to France that semester, yet I seem to be the only one who fell in love. So the question becomes what is it about France that captivates me so?
I’m not sure there’s an easy answer for that, but the simplest answer is another little anecdote. I went back to France in June 2004 for a wedding after a very stressful school year. Back in Dijon again, I visited old friends and wandered the city where I fell in love with France and with my husband. Despite having moved back to the US nine years earlier, I ran into people I knew in stores I had frequented and even on the street. Talk about a small world! In the week I was there, all the stress from the school year disappeared and I went from being miserable to feeling like I was home.
That sums it up for me in a way little else does. France feels like home. I love the café culture. I love the “bises” they give each other when they greet their friends. I love the fact that when I was in a grocery store, I overheard a woman complaining about some fresh produce smelling like it had been refrigerated. She was used to getting things fresh from the farm two or three times a week at the local market. I love the fact that there’s a different kind of cheese for every day of the year. I love the fact that I never needed a car when I lived there because the public transportation was extensive enough and reliable enough that it was a viable option, not just for me but for the French as well. I love the fact that there’s another piece of history around every corner. When I called home the first time after arriving in France, my mother asked me what I thought, and my reaction was that everything was so old. Not run down, but ancient. There are businesses in Dijon that predate Columbus’s discovery of the Americas. Not just buildings. Businesses.
Even more than all of that, though, I love the people. I know the French have the reputation for being snobby or cold or reserved, but I have never been treated that way. 19 years later, I still keep in touch with that first family I lived with and their three daughters. I attended all three of their weddings. I still exchange letters with my former colleagues from when I taught there. I have friends all over the country who open their homes to me any time I come to visit. In every town and city I visited, even Paris, people went out of their way to be helpful to me, whether I was by myself or with my husband and two kids. My son was nine months old the last time we went to France. Americans told us we were crazy. I told them we’d be fine, and we were. Someone grabbed the other end of the stroller every time we encountered steps with no elevator or escalator.
So why are so many of my stories set in France? The answer is really quite simple.
I’m American by birth, but my heart belongs to France.
Overdrive by Ariel Tachna
Coming April 8 from Dreamspinner Press
Blurb:
All his life, French racer Daniel Leroux has dreamed of one thing: winning the World Rally Championship. To do that, he needs a co-driver he can trust. If only he could find one….
At the end of a disastrous season, Daniel’s manager replaces his incompetent co-driver with Frank Dufour, a young Canadian whose rally team let him go because he was gay. Daniel’s in heaven, thinking he might find more than just a teammate, but his manager puts the brakes on, declaring Frank firmly off limits. Frank isn’t any more ready to risk his second—and last—chance at making it in the WRC, no matter how attractive he finds Daniel. Sex and cars don’t mix.
Amidst a bitter rivalry with another driver, sabotage attempts, extreme weather conditions, and the stress of racing, Daniel and Frank forge a partnership that defies the odds, but just as things start to heat up between them, a family emergency calls Frank away. Will they find their way back together or will the separation and the spotlight be too much for their fledgling love to survive?
At the end of a disastrous season, Daniel’s manager replaces his incompetent co-driver with Frank Dufour, a young Canadian whose rally team let him go because he was gay. Daniel’s in heaven, thinking he might find more than just a teammate, but his manager puts the brakes on, declaring Frank firmly off limits. Frank isn’t any more ready to risk his second—and last—chance at making it in the WRC, no matter how attractive he finds Daniel. Sex and cars don’t mix.
Amidst a bitter rivalry with another driver, sabotage attempts, extreme weather conditions, and the stress of racing, Daniel and Frank forge a partnership that defies the odds, but just as things start to heat up between them, a family emergency calls Frank away. Will they find their way back together or will the separation and the spotlight be too much for their fledgling love to survive?
Excerpt:
“Putain de merde, qu’est-ce vous faites? Vous ne pouvez pas lire les indications que vous avez écrites vous-même?”
Daniel Leroux glared at his co-driver in frustration as they finally came to a stop. He’d lost count of how many times the car flipped this time, but this was not the first time his co-driver’s errors had led to them rolling and being eliminated from a race. He could just see his rank falling as once again a rally ended with no points in his score column.
The crowd rushed over to make sure they were unhurt. Daniel summoned a smile as he pulled himself from the car to the cheers of the fans. Finland was a hard course, and he wasn’t the first driver to wipe out on this turn, nor would he be the last, he was sure, but his co-driver telling him the road curved left instead of right was more than a miscalculation. It was the kind of gross error that got people killed. He didn’t plan on being one of them. When they got back to the hotel where they were staying for the week, Daniel intended to talk to the team manager. He was already out of contention for this season. Even if they won every remaining rally, they couldn’t catch the leader, and they’d have to come in third or above in every remaining race to end up in the top five. With a co-driver he could trust, he might have done it. With the idiot climbing out of the car on the other side as co-driver, he’d be lucky to be alive still at the end of the season.
The spectators helped push the car back onto the road, allowing Daniel to continue down the course, but he didn’t push the time. He could hear from the sounds coming from the engine that they wouldn’t make it at high speeds. He’d get off the course so it was clear for the next driver and then withdraw from the rest of the race.
“I’m sorry, Jean-Paul,” Daniel said, tossing his helmet and gloves on the table as he turned to face the team manager. “I can’t work with him anymore. I’ve tried and tried. Watch the onboard if you don’t believe me. A little off with the timing is bad enough, but telling me it would be a left turn instead of a right turn is more than bad timing. We’re lucky we weren’t killed.”
“You mean we’re lucky you’re a damn good driver,” Jean-Paul corrected. “Even with Isabelle working her magic, it’s going to take time to repair the car. So what are you thinking, Dany, besides that you want me to fire Xavier?”
“I’m thinking that we can’t even pull off a respectable place this year,” Daniel replied. “I think we should withdraw from the remaining races and spend the rest of the year and the off-season training up a new co-driver, someone I can really work with this time.”
“Did you have somebody in mind?” Jean-Paul asked. “Or should I look at the draft and see who’s available?”
“There was a kid who was co-driving in the J-WRC,” Daniel said. “A Canadian. Frank something. His career seemed to be taking off and then his team let him go. I liked what I saw of him before that. And he was with a French-speaking team so he’s got to be at least conversational in French, which is good, since I doubt I could follow pace notes in English. Can you find out what happened and see if he’s available?”
Jean-Paul’s eyebrows lifted. “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” Daniel admitted. “I kept hoping we could make it through this season with a decent showing, but it isn’t going to happen, so I’d rather make the break now and come back strong for next year.”
“I’ll see what I can find out about your ‘kid’ and anyone else who might be available,” Jean-Paul said. “Tell Isabelle so she can let the crew know we’re packing up and heading back to Auvergne. We can spend the fall and winter there getting ready for next year. There are back roads there not even you have driven.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” Daniel said cockily, picking up his gear. “I’m going to talk to Isabelle and then get a shower.” He stopped when he reached the door, turning back to face the man who had been in charge of his career for the last five years. “Thanks for believing in me, Jean-Paul. I know that what happens out there on the road is ultimately my responsibility, and I appreciate you not blaming me for the rough season we’ve had.”
Jean-Paul smiled. “We expected this to be a shakedown year, with Christophe retiring last season and you having to find a new co-driver. We didn’t expect it to be quite as challenging as it’s been, but you’ve proven yourself. Second in the world last year, and by only a few points, is nothing to throw away. We’ll have more time to find a good match since we’re starting early now. Don’t worry. We’ll get this team back on track.”
Daniel summoned a smile in return, but it faded when the door closed behind him. Number two in the world last year, and not even ranked this year because he didn’t finish the season. Talk about a bitter pill to swallow. Jean-Paul could say what he wanted. Daniel knew he’d let a lot of people down with his record this year. He’d be okay because he brought in more money in a year, even an off year, than he could reasonably spend, but he had no idea what would happen to the mechanics on the team once they were all back in Auvergne and the car was ready to go. Isabelle could handle the maintenance on the training runs since they wouldn’t have the tight schedule of a rally. Unless he busted up completely like he’d done today, most of the mechanics would be sent home for the off-season. Usually, that was a matter of a month or two between the last rally in October or November and the first one in January or February, but it was only August now. Maybe he’d talk to Jean-Paul and see if something could be done for them. He wanted them to come back next year. Isabelle had talked several times about how well her team had worked together this year. If only he’d had as much luck with his team.
“Dany!”
He looked up and saw his sister and head mechanic rushing toward him. “Salut, p’tite sœur,” he said, catching her in a tight hug. “I’m fine. I promise, I’m fine.”
She glared up at him. “Did you let the EMTs look you over?”
“Isabelle, I’m fine,” Daniel insisted. “No pain in my neck, no limping, nothing.”
The fingers that dug into the muscle of his bicep were strong from working with cars all day and brooked absolutely no refusal. She marched him down the hall and out to the car. “If you won’t show sense, I’ll have to show it for you.”
Daniel tried to resist, but he’d never yet managed to break free of her claws once she had a grip on him.
Three hours later, X-rayed and poked at until he was ready to snap, Daniel walked back into the hospital waiting room. “I told you I was fine,” he said with a grin for his sister. “I’m always fine.”
“You keep saying that, you might actually get someone to believe you,” Isabelle retorted, punching the same spot on his arm where she’d dug her fingers in earlier.
“Aïe! Did you have to hit me right there?”
“Yes,” Isabelle said with a grin. “Now come on. I want to know what you and Jean-Paul talked about for so long.”
“Let’s go back to the shop, and I’ll tell you,” Daniel promised. It would be easier to let his sister down there where she was surrounded by the cars she loved than it would be anywhere else. Damn, he hated this part.
Isabelle seemed to sense his mood because she dropped the sisterly hassling, driving to the shop in silence and parking outside the locked garage. She opened the side door and flipped on the lights, revealing what was left of the car he’d wrecked that afternoon as well as the spare car sitting beneath its tarp behind the first one. “I don’t need to pull the tarp off and tune up the other car, do I?”
Daniel shook his head. “I’m sorry, p’tite sœur,” he said. “We’re going back to Auvergne as soon as we can get packed up here. Jean-Paul is going to fire Xavier if he hasn’t already done it while I was at the hospital. We’ll start looking for someone to replace him. Someone better this time. Someone who can actually help me win instead of making me lose.”
