In person, Laurie Albanese and Laura Morowitz finish each other's sentences, take only a split second to decide who's the best of the two to answer a question, laugh in the same delighted way. It's easy to see why they are such good friends and why their novel, The Miracles of Prato, reads so seamlessly and entertainingly.
Together Albanese, who has written several novels, and Morowitz, an art professor and historian, have "40 years of experience," as Albanese put it. "We were already friends and thought we would combine our talents." (Appropriately they met in a book group, and happily their husbands are friends, too.) And there was a practical aspect to working together: if either of the pair wrote such a book on her own, she would have to spend a while learning something new: in Albanese's case, art of the early Renaissance, or for Morowitz, simply how to write a novel.
The project began when Morowitz gave Albanese a book about Lippi as a birthday present. Lippi's personal story intrigued them both, and Albanese wrote the first line of The Miracles of Prato on Thanksgiving while in Florida. "There's always blood" remains the beginning of the finished book.
The rest of the novel took two years to write. Albanese envisioned doing most of the original writing while Morowitz would do the research. But "Laura would have none of that!" she said. Together they "hashed out plot lines." Albanese wrote opening scenes and "did character development and internalities," while Morowitz wrote some of the more general scenes, such as "pageantry and the festival day."
The pair edited each other's writing heavily. In matters of "wordsmithing unless the content was wrong, Laura deferred to me, and I deferred to her about art history," Albanese said. Morowitz added, "It was hard to see our own flaws but great to have another pair of eyes. I trusted her fundamentally."
Sometimes things became intense, and the two would "wait a day" to settle some matters, as Albanese put it. Often Albanese said, she would give her partner "an assignment," hoping to distract and occupy her. "I'd say, 'Could you research undergarment craftsmanship?' Before I got home, there would be an e-mail with a scene attached."
In the end, Albanese went over the manuscript repeatedly, likening it to "combing hair over and over," a process that gave the narrative its unified, flowing voice.
For Morowitz, writing a novel was unexpectedly different from the two books of nonfiction she had written, which she had mapped out carefully. "I would never have thought to write in a nonlinear fashion." She also praised her co-author for being "so excellent at her craft. She kept saying something had to be at stake."
The process of collaboration led to some amusing moments. Morowitz remembered being in a crowded dentist's office on her phone saying to Albanese lines like, "Listen, the general is not going to rape her three days after Advent!"
The story is based on facts that in part seem unbelievably scandalous--a priest and nun living together and having a child--but Albanese and Morowitz toned down what actually happened. The full story is "more outrageous," Albanese said. "There were only five or six nuns and the prioress [in the Santa Margherita convent], and they were all living with Lippi. We had to decide were we going to write an Italian orgy story or a love story?"
Some aspects of the true story were murky. Although Lippi and Lucrezia received a dispensation to marry, they did not wed, and after giving birth to Filippino, Lucrezia went back to the convent and
renewed her vows, then had another child with Lippi seven years later. Eventually the pair moved apart. "Some people felt disappointed by that," Albanese said.
Without giving the novel's plot away, suffice it to say that the authors kept the essence of the true story and made a romance and a thriller out of it. Besides the rape, "a linchpin" of the book is the sacred belt of the Virgin Mary, a relic that is the focus of an annual feast day in Prato. Neither author knew about the belt in the beginning. (They also didn't realize initially that one of Lippi's major works--the fresco cycle in the Duomo in Prato--was being cleaned and restored.)
The miracle of the title has to do with the belt, which disappears and reappears--done in a way so that, as Morowitz said, readers can come up with their own explanations, whether based on faith or love or another force.
Albanese and Morowitz traveled to Prato twice after beginning the book. Some of what they learned helped in matters of "simple geography," Albanese said. "We had originally placed Lippi's workshop and the convent way out from the center of town. But both were close in." They also had tours of several places that are important in the book, including the cathedral crypt and the locked chapel containing the belt, and they met with the town archivist who showed them maps of old Prato.
The authors will celebrate the book's publication next month at a party in Glen Ridge, N.J., near their homes that will feature wine, beer and prosecco, classical Italian music, all in a Queen Anne style historic building. Albanese described the mood as "renaissance/early 20th Century."
The book is being promoted in a variety of other ways, too, including in a short video featuring the authors posted on Morrow's website. The company has been contacting many reading group coordinators and is reaching out to online communities interested in art, art history, Italy, Italian history, the real history of the Catholic Church as well as to bloggers of all kinds. As Tavia Kowalchuk, marketing director at Morrow, put it, "tons of people are blogging about art and their trips to Italy. We're letting them know the book is coming out." The company will reach out as well through its Avon imprint, which has "a fairly strong platform to reach romance readers," Kowalchuk said. This includes the Avon blog, the newsletter From the Heart, and more. Another likely market is people who like similar books--such as Girl With a Pearl Earring or Portrait of an Unknown Woman.
And so this book about miracles that took place in the Early Renaissance in Italy will be helped by the modern miracle of online marketing.--John Mutter