#388 Inside the Emotion of Fiction ANOTHER SOUL SAVED by John Anthony Miller, published on March 30, 2026.
#388 Inside the Emotion of Fiction ANOTHER SOUL SAVED by John Anthony Miller, published on March 30, 2026.
What is the date you began writing this piece of fiction and the date when you finished the piece of fiction?
I started writing Another Soul Saved in January 2025 and completed it in July 2025.
Where did you do most of your writing for this fiction work? And please describe in detail.
I have an office in my home where I work. I spend most of my day writing, sometimes working on more than one book at a time.
What were your writing habits while writing this work- did you drink something as you wrote, listen to music, write in pen and paper, directly on laptop; specific time of day?
I write from 6 a.m. until 3:30 p.m., with breaks for a morning trip to the gym, lunch, and any errands that I might have to run. I write directly on my laptop, drink coffee, don’t listen to any music—I like it quiet—and I scribble notes as needed on a legal pad beside my computer.
Please include just one excerpt and include page numbers as reference. This one excerpt can be as short or as long as you prefer.
I’ve attached the five opening paragraphs of the book:
Chapter 1
Vienna, Austria
March 25, 1941
Monika Graf walked past St. Stephen’s Cathedral and eyed the Nazi flag draped down the front of the Hotel Strauss, celebrating the superiority of the Aryan race. The flag, and others like it, hung from many iconic structures, staining a city of architectural masterpieces—curved Art Nouveau buildings accented by sculptures and Baroque palaces built with columns and colonnades. Perched beside the Danube, the river twisting around it, Vienna was founded in genius, home to Beethoven, Mozart, Hayden, and Strauss, their masterpieces silenced by Nazi boots thumping down cobblestone streets.
Her view of the eight-hundred-year-old cathedral, its spire cutting through clouds to reach the hand of God, was marred by a Nazi patrol marching past it—providing a stark contrast of good versus evil to the enlightened soul. Two policemen, chosen for their willingness to intimidate any who crossed them, wandered the square around the church, determined to find suspicious activity—whether it existed or not. They ignored four Hitler Youth who were taunting a gray-haired woman selling Bibles to benefit the church and focused instead on an older man who shook his head with disgust while he briskly walked past them. Monika looked away as she approached. It was best to avoid eye contact and show no interest, intent on reaching her destination.
A slight woman in her mid-thirties, she inherited her olive complexion from her Italian mother, along with dark eyes and black hair that rested on her shoulders. Born in Innsbruck, she had married wealth, her husband Armin serving as Chief of Staff to Max Kern, a highly capable Austrian general. She’d seen little of him since Germany had invaded Poland eighteen months before, starting a war that the entire world would gradually enter. And now, as fighting continued, Monika feared she would see her husband even less.
She continued past the Hitler Youth and avoided the marching soldiers. As she turned the corner on the north side of the plaza, she saw two little girls cleaning the cobblestone with toothbrushes. It was a common punishment for Jews, usually not for what they did but because of who they were. Authorities continually harassed them, often assigning menial tasks that created the greatest humiliation. The girls were young, seven or eight at most, and Monika wondered if they were sisters or two random children impacted by a world at war, their innocence stolen forever. A bucket sat between them, a German soldier paced nearby, and three Jewish women dressed in the latest fashions also cleaned the street. One used a silk camisole she may have worn the night before, the second a mink stole, the third a beige blouse that was torn and tattered from rubbing the stone that made the plaza that wound around the cathedral.
Monika pretended to study radios displayed in the nearest shop window while she furtively eyed the girls, their faces smudged, their dresses soiled. She heard Mozart faintly playing—Symphony 41—the beauty of the moving melodies overshadowed by the ugliness in the street. Across the plaza, a long line of Jews waited at an emigration center, once a Jewish jewelry store long ago emptied of its contents. They came from all walks of life—a rabbi with a long white beard, a yarmulke perched on his head, several men in work clothes, families with well-dressed children, and couples holding hands.
Why is this excerpt so emotional for you as a writer to write? And can you describe your own emotional experience of writing this specific excerpt? This emotional moment must not be from the character’s emotion but from your emotion as a writer.
These opening paragraphs introduce the main character and establish the setting—WWII Vienna during the Nazi regime. The words describe a menacing environment and the dangers ordinary citizens face, especially any who defy authorities. This is the world that our main character inhabits.
HITLER ENTERS VIENNA, AUSTRIA IN 1938
The excerpt is emotional for me because of the many true accounts of the Holocaust that I’ve read and studied. Real people walked these same streets, faced unimaginable dangers, many risking their lives to help others. It’s moving, using the make-believe world that authors create, to bring history to life through imaginary characters.
Were there any deletions from this excerpt that you can share with us? And can you please include a photo of your marked up rough drafts of this excerpt.
I’ve included the first two paragraphs from an early draft, so you can see how the story evolved.
Monika Graf walked along the plaza that surrounded St. Stephen’s Cathedral, eyeing the Nazi flag draped down the side of the Hotel Strauss. It left a menacing stain on a city of architectural masterpieces—Art Noveua designs, Baroque palaces, and Gothic cathedrals. Perched beside the Danube River, Vienna was once home to Beethoven, Mozart, Hayden, and Stauss, their masterpieces drowned by German boots pounding cobblestone streets.
The eight-hundred-year-old cathedral, its lofty spire dominating the skyline, was marred by a Nazi patrol marching past it—a stark contrast of good versus evil. Two policemen also wandered the square, watching pedestrians for suspicious activity, amused by four Hitler Youth harassing a woman selling Bibles for the church. Monika looked away as she approached them. It was best to avoid eye contact, to show no interest, to pretend she was interested only in reaching her destination.
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