Author Note

I was inspired to write The Librarian Spy after reading about the librarians who were sent to neutral Lisbon during World War II to gather books and newspapers in order to glean intel on the enemy. This became especially interesting after learning they were initially thrown into their jobs with very little training and Lisbon was teeming with people from all over the world, agents and refugees alike. Espionage was rife on Lisbon's crowded coastline, where power and wealth were played like a well-guarded hand and countries operated clandestine activities on the razor's edge of neutrality beneath the noses of Portugal's secret police.

While the IDC (Interdepartmental Committee for the Acquisition of Foreign Publications) did not send any female operatives to Lisbon, I chose to create Ava Harper—a woman confident in her own element at the Library of Congress, only to arrive in a place where she had more questions than answers. I had the good fortune to know a few librarians who offered great insight with which to build Ava's character. I also was able to travel to DC to the Library of Congress, where I spent the day researching in the beautiful Reading Room and toured the premises.

Portugal was the last corner of neutral European territory from which refugees could sail to South America, Africa or North America to escape the Nazis' wrath. And while it was a place of relative safety where refugees were protected under neutrality laws, there was always a constant threat of various visas expiring, resulting in arrest by the Portuguese secret police. Additionally, there was the perpetual fear that Germany would attack Portugal and refugees would once more be under Nazi occupation. The waits these refugees endured for their various visas and boat tickets were long and terrible, even for people who had maintained their wealth, though many arrived with only the clothes they wore.

Spies swarmed in this community where publications and news from all over the world mixed among the conglomeration of foreigners. They secretly paid the locals and police to listen and report, they rubbed elbows with the wealthy in glitzy hotels to gather intel, and they dotted disinformation around to spread like wildfires to keep the enemy from suspecting their next move. All of this made for a very exciting environment.

I was fortunate enough to be able to travel to Lisbon, despite the pandemic, during 2021. I had never been to Portugal, and it was important for me to experience the culture I had learned so much about in my research. I found it to be exactly as I had read: beautiful with incredible food and people who were kind and generous. I had an amazing tour guide, Raquel Estevens, whose 101-year-old grandmother shared details about how life was when the refugees came to Lisbon. Raquel not only planned out tours specific to what I needed for my research, but was always so patient with all of my questions. I'm immensely grateful to her and her grandmother.

One man I unfortunately did not get to mention in my book, but I feel also deserves to be noted here, is Sousa Mendes, a Portuguese consul in Bordeaux, France. In June 1940, when Germany took France, people were being attacked and cities were falling under Nazi control, and people were desperate to flee, he defied strict orders to not authorize visas. As the Portuguese consulate filled with desperate people, Mendes went with his heart and conscience and vowed to sign as many visas as he could regardless of nationality or religion, and he did so without taking payment. For three days, he signed and signed and signed, his name reduced to only "Mendes," but the consulate stamp on those visas was enough to let refugees flow through the borders. Before he was forced to stop, he managed to sign at least 3,800—this number has been confirmed with certainty by the Sousa Mendes Foundation (survivors and descendants of the families he saved with those visas), though estimates of the number range between 10,000–30,000. For his defiance, he was stripped permanently of his title, shunned by António de Oliveira Salazar, the prime minister of Portugal, and never again able to secure employment. Sousa Mendes is noted to have said: "I could not have acted otherwise, and I therefore accept all that has befallen me with love."

Though I researched Lisbon during World War II extensively, please be aware that any errors are entirely my own.

Which brings me to the second narrative of The Librarian Spy in Lyon, France, with Elaine. While doing research, I happened to stumble upon a woman in France named Lucienne Guezennec. Plucky, brave and a woman of integrity and honor, she was a true inspiration. She gave her identity card to a Jewish woman to save her, joined the Resistance and became an apprentice at a clandestine newspaper, was the only survivor of a Nazi attack on the press, and even stood up for the women whose heads were being shaved in retaliation for collaborating with Nazis at the end of the war. I do not mirror her life, though I used her as a strong influence for Elaine's character. Antoine, Jean and Marcel are also loosely inspired by the real men who worked with Lucienne at the clandestine press: Marcel after André Bollier, Antoine after Francisque Vacher and Jean after Paul Jaillet.

Another important character on the French side of my book was Kommandeur Werner. I made him from a combination of real officers who existed in Lyon during the occupation with a primary tie to Klaus Barbie—a man so cruel, he was dubbed the Butcher of Lyon. I won't go into the unspeakable things he did to earn such a title, but I will say he did not stand trial for those heinous crimes until he was an old man. Even then, he received life in prison, where he remained only four short years before passing away. His victims never received such mercy as he was afforded. I confess, I am a reader who likes to see a villain get what they deserve and so I created Werner.

Many of the other characters were inspired from women I read about in my research, including Manon. The real woman who suffered such a heartbreaking loss of a child was not named in the research book that mentioned her, nor was her future following the loss of her child shared. I took it upon myself to place her in the Resistance to retaliate as she could against the Nazis.

I was also extraordinarily fortunate to be able to travel to Lyon while I was writing this book. Not only did I spend most of my time walking the streets and traboules to absorb the beauty and feel of the capital of the French Resistance during WWII, but I also spent an extraordinary amount of time at the Resistance museum (Centre d'histoire de la résistance et de la deportation) and the museum at Montluc Prison. Both museums were powerful showcases for what the French endured during Nazi occupation and highlighted the bravery of those who fought back. Additionally, I was fortunate to find an incredible tour guide, Jean Martinez, who is an absolute wealth of knowledge about the Resistance and France during World War II and was kind enough to answer questions for me throughout the writing of this book.

As with Lisbon, my research with Lyon and the French Resistance was extensive and any errors made are my own.

One important aspect of the book that I feel like I want to touch on in this note is the code used between Elaine and Ava through the newspapers. While coding was an important aspect of the French Resistance, I could not identify the exact code used by the Resistance and so implemented a poem code that was in operation at one point with SOE agents that I adapted slightly to fit this story.

I am immensely grateful for all the experts who helped shape this novel, from tour guides to museums to authors of nonfiction material and eyewitnesses who opened their hearts to share their stories. I hope that I have done justice to the beautiful countries I visited and the brave men and women I discovered in my research. May their memories remain with us all for generations to come.