Today, Bookpleasures.com is excited to welcome Larry Zuckerman, the author of To Save a Life, a historical novel inspired by his Jewish immigrant heritage.

Larry’s grandparents, who spoke Yiddish, sparked his curiosity about their past and language, which deeply influenced his writing. His previous novel, Lonely Are the Brave (2023), explores the life of a World War I hero-turned-father in a Washington State logging town.

Larry is also the author of nonfiction works like The Potato: How the Humble Spud Rescued the Western World and The Rape of Belgium: The Untold Story of World War I. 

His work has been featured on NPR, and he’s spoken at the World Potato Congress in New Zealand.

Join us as we explore Larry’s journey as a writer and the inspiration behind To Save a Life.

Norm: Good day Larry and thanks for taking part in our interview:

Larry: A good day to you, too, Norm, and thanks for having me.

Norm: To Save a Life opens in 1909, amidst a tense sweatshop strike. What inspired you to set the novel during this time period, and how did you incorporate historical events into the story?

Larry: I fastened on 1909 as a year when the garment union took decisive action, leading up to the mammoth strike in November, when twenty thousand shirtwaist makers walked off the job. 

I wished to evoke feelings in the air then, such as anger at exploitation and belief that change was possible, but I shied away from grand events, preferring to ground my story with Malka, Yaakov, and the people they know. 

As the novel took shape, I stumbled on details that marked 1909, like the new rule at Ellis Island that prospective immigrants needed the equivalent of twenty-five dollars in hand. 

But whatever the historical calendar gave me, and whatever I learned about daily life on the Lower East Side, I strove to make the time and place feel lived in. 

To me, that means re-creating the era as its contemporaries would have viewed it, sticking closely to their mores and having them hint rather than make speeches about what, to them, would have seemed too obvious to deserve mention. 

Balancing those subtleties against the reader’s need to feel at home in the past is the hardest task in writing historical fiction, I think.

Norm: Malka’s first encounter with Yaakov is intense and life-changing. How did you want this moment to affect their relationship and the rest of the novel?

Larry: I wanted to set a tone early on, to show the reader that life could be a bare-knuckles affair for immigrants, a reality that Malka and Yaakov must face at every turn. 

They sense that what they’ve just seen and done will mark them indelibly, except they don’t know how that will play out. 

And where some people who feel a nascent curiosity about one another might probe or offer observations, these two wouldn’t dream of referring to the horror they’ve just shared, let alone ask questions. 

The barriers they place between them also keep them from understanding themselves, a difficulty that spills into other facets of their lives. I wanted the reader to see that in this, as in other ways, Malka and Yaakov have more in common than they know.

Norm: You mention in your author’s notes that your grandparents were immigrants. How did their experiences influence your writing of this story?

Larry: Surprisingly little, as it happens, partly because I know next to nothing about their early years in New York, which I never heard them speak about. 

They may not have told my father, either, for his stories about them never went farther back than the 1920s, when he was born. 

I do know that my grandparents worked in a sweatshop making hats, where my grandfather lost parts of two fingers to an accident. 

I borrowed that incident for a minor character. He also emigrated alone as a teenager—and, believe it or not, I only realized a couple months ago that I’d borrowed that too, for Yaakov! 

Looking back, I think I drew wider inspiration from my grandparents’ generation, rather than from their experiences specifically.

Norm: The novel is filled with rich Yiddish expressions. What role do these expressions play in shaping the voices of your characters, and why did you choose to include them in the dialogue?

Larry: Though I don’t speak Yiddish, I’ve always appreciated the window the language offers on a worldview and way of life—ironic, sad, pungent, pessimistic, funny (because laughter is the best choice with all that pain), yet hopeful too. 

Yiddish also sounds expressive, with edgy consonant clusters and lilting cadences, so that even if you don’t know what’s being said, you can sense spirit and force in the words. 

My characters use that to comment on life, but not only by uttering spicy phrases; they invert what would be typical word order in English. 

“You do me such wrong” becomes “Such wrong you do me,” because the speaker wishes to emphasize the wrong, which he sees as larger than his listener or himself. This is the speech pattern I heard at my grandparents’ table, and I thought it suited the outlook I was trying to convey in the novel.

Norm: Both Malka and Yaakov carry deep secrets from their pasts. How did you develop their backstories, and how do those secrets shape their actions throughout the novel?

Larry: I believe that shame is the most powerful motivator, and I’ve written about it in all my books. When I conceived of this story, before I even assigned names to my main characters, I decided they’d each left Russia under shameful circumstances. 

That pointed toward emigrating alone, which would raise suspicions about an unmarried woman like Malka, while Yaakov would arouse a different sort of curiosity as a teenager without parents. 

Once I’d figured out how they’d gotten to New York—what they wished to hide—I could back them into corners, separately or together, and force them to reckon with their desires. 

After what they’ve done, do they deserve happiness or the freedom for which they sacrificed so much? That question drives the story.

Norm: Yaakov dreams of a music career but ends up working as a cloak presser in America. How did you decide to blend his musical aspirations with the harsh realities of immigrant life?

Larry: I wanted to give him a dream that nobody understands or thinks much of, and as an artist myself, I know about that. Yaakov closely guards his belief that music has a practical side, as a potential ticket out of the sweatshop. 

He thinks how wonderful life would be as a singing waiter (a detail I borrowed from the life of Irving Berlin), and though Yaakov takes no steps to make that happen, his plan feels plausible to him, comforting. 

He’s not looking for fame or riches, only a decent job in which he can reach people through music, a modest goal that doesn’t feel like tempting fate. 

But, though he wouldn’t have used the word, he’s also testing out what it would mean to become an entrepreneur—the route that, incidentally, all three major female characters choose.

Norm: Malka’s strength and independence are key to her character, yet she is also vulnerable. How did you develop this complexity, and what role does vulnerability play in her journey?

Larry: I wanted Malka’s empathy to temper her hard, rough edges, to give her greater depth, and set up internal conflicts over her desire for independence. 

That’s why, early on, I portray her caring for a friend who’s suffered an injury, then try to absorb her aunt’s exhortations to show her softer side. 

The back story follows a similar pattern, as Malka acts to protect her younger sister, only to feel guilt at escaping Russia—which leaves her prey to an attempt at manipulation. 

To an extent, Malka sees how her fierceness hurts herself and others, but will she learn to let people get close and tolerate the risk? Much depends on the answer, including whether she can adapt to the Golden Land.

Norm: One of the most powerful themes in To Save a Life is the tension between holding onto one’s cultural traditions and adapting to a new life in a foreign country. How did you explore this theme through your characters, particularly Malka?

Larry: Malka arrives in New York armed with what’s inside her as a bulwark against the hustle, greed, and (she thinks) immorality of the Golden Land. 

But she soon realizes that leaving Russia for America offers a strange, compelling possibility she could never have imagined: the chance to choose her own life. 

What a temptation, therefore dangerous, evoking desires she didn’t know she had—and in Russia, desire always led to trouble. Besides, nothing comes for free, so Malka fears that to gain this new life, she’d have to give up her traditions. 

The other characters, who’ve lived in America longer, have made compromises she couldn’t tolerate, she thinks—as with her aunt’s “advanced ideas,” or Yaakov working on the Sabbath. Whether Malka can find her own path within the constraints she requires will decide her future.

Norm: The immigrant experience is often fraught with hardship, but your novel also explores personal growth and resilience. How do you think Malka and Yaakov embody these qualities, and what can readers learn from their struggles?

Larry: Both characters emigrate alone, more or less with only the clothes on their backs, to a country halfway around the world. 

They suffer terrible losses, yet they never give up; as circumstances change, they try to adapt, looking for a niche to inhabit, at least regarding livelihood and career. In their friendships and social interactions, they’re more rigid, but even there, they long for connection and keep asking themselves what they might do differently. 

That gift of personal self-reflection parallels their willingness to reinvent themselves as wage earners and allows them the means to see into themselves. The lessons here, I suppose, are: never give up; remain true to your dreams, as best you can; and be willing to look at yourself from several angles.

Norm: The novel is about more than just romance; it also delves into historical events like labor strikes and workplace violence. How did you balance these different elements to keep the story engaging while also remaining historically accurate?

Larry: It comes down to what novel-writing gurus identify as a narrative’s public stakes and private stakes and having the two intersect repeatedly. 

The public stakes—in this case, working conditions and the labor movement—keep intruding on the main characters, even when they’re not actively involved in that struggle. 

Further, the effects reach into their private lives, not only their efforts to earn a living; the two spheres are never far apart. 

The juxtaposition can raise the tension by putting both stakes at risk at once, while imbuing the characters’ everyday problems with large issues like justice, freedom, and sacrifice.

Norm: Where can our readers find out more about you and To Save a Life?

Larry: I invite you to visit my WEBSITE, which offers a glimpse into my past, and information about To Save a Life and my other books. 

I also welcome you to my Substack newsletter, GeezerVision (geezervision.substack.com), short-short essays intended to raise a smile or prompt a thought worth keeping, which I post on Tuesdays and Thursdays. 

Bookshop.org has a synopsis of To Save a Life and order information, while my publisher, Cennan Books at Cynren Press, provides both those and a reader’s guide (https://www.cynren.com/catalog/p/to-save-a-life).

Norm: As we end our interview, To Save a Life has been described as a poignant and insightful look at the cost of seeking a better life. What do you hope readers take away from the story, especially in relation to current issues of immigration and cultural identity?

Larry: As the grandson of people who fled persecution in Eastern Europe, I wrote the novel, in part, because the bigotry and xenophobia directed against present-day immigrants revolts me. (I finished the book well before the last presidential election; I feel even more strongly now.) 

To Save a Life won’t make a dent in hatred. But if I could have my druthers, I’d want my readers to see Malka, Yaakov, and the rest as people just like anyone else, with flaws and virtues, hardworking, looking for dignity and safety. They’re assets rather than threats—as immigrants are, by and large.

Norm: Thanks once again and good luck with all of your future endeavors

Follow Here To Read Norm's Review of To Save A Life