Esther’s Road in Hymns of Blue Hollow: Crafting a Heroine Unaware of Her Strength
In the world of Kemma MarShall’s Hymns of Blue Hollow series, Esther Primm isn’t the kind of heroine who bursts onto the page, kicking down doors or wielding sharp words like weapons. She doesn’t demand attention. In fact, she asks for very little—perhaps to be left alone, to find a moment’s peace, maybe a warm meal. And yet, from the very first glimpse of her standing at the edge of the Blue Hollow Hills, a fragile figure against a vast Appalachian landscape, I knew Esther Primm would carry the weight of an entire world on her shoulders. She just didn’t know her own strength yet.
This is the story of Esther’s road—a journey of quiet power and slow becoming, central to this 1940s historical romance.
The Quiet Power of Esther Primm: A Different Kind of Appalachian Heroine
Writing Esther Primm, the central strong female protagonist in Hymns of Blue Hollow, meant resisting every temptation to make her overtly bold too soon. I didn’t want her to experience a sudden awakening of bravery, or discover her inner strength as if flipping a switch. Real life, especially for women raised in silence and under the oppressive rules of others, rarely works that way. Esther’s strength is a quiet, resilient ember that glows brighter through adversity.
She rarely speaks unless absolutely necessary. She apologizes for things that are not her fault, a common trait in those who have been systematically undervalued. Kindness, when offered, often looks like a trap to her. Her world has taught her that usefulness is the only true protection. So, she knows how to work hard, how to make herself small, how to disappear into the background.
But even within that carefully constructed quietude, something vital is stirring. A flicker of defiance. A questioning gaze. A nascent desire for something more than mere survival. This is the core of Esther’s character development in the Hymns of Blue Hollow series.
Hunger as a Language: Craving More Than Sustenance
Esther’s narrative in Hymns of Blue Hollow is profoundly shaped by hunger. It’s not just a physical hunger for food, though that is a stark reality of her early life in 1940s Appalachia. It’s a deeper, more resonant hunger for gentleness, for belonging, for the fundamental right to want anything at all. Initially, she isn’t allowed to name this hunger; it’s a hidden ache, tucked away in the corners of her being, visible only in the way she observes others, the way she secretly treasures her sketchbook.
To write her story with authenticity, as Kemma MarShall, I had to explore what it means to be denied for so long that you forget the very sensation of wanting. And then, crucially, what it means to begin to remember.
Her art, her drawings in an old hymn book, becomes her earliest, most private form of self-expression and selfhood. It’s a quiet rebellion, rendered in pencil lines, a secret space where pieces of herself can exist safely.
A Slow Becoming: Growth in the Blue Hollow Hills
Esther’s transformation isn’t instantaneous. Like the stubborn, resilient flora of the Blue Hollow Hills, her growth is slow, quiet, and deeply rooted. It happens largely unseen, underground, until one day, inevitably, something breaks through the surface.
She doesn’t fall in love at first sight or learn to trust overnight. A man like Ian Huggler—who listens, who waits, who doesn’t demand—is a foreign concept. Their story, a central thread in this Appalachian romance, isn’t about a dramatic rescue. It’s about mutual recognition: recognizing her own needs, her own grief, and ultimately, her own intrinsic worth.
Even then, she resists. And that resistance is real, too. Because it’s one thing to be offered love and kindness; it’s another entirely to believe you are deserving of it.
Finding Her Voice: Beyond Silence
Esther’s voice had to be authentically hers, not a reflection of my authorial expectations or common heroine tropes. She isn’t initially witty or quick with retorts. When she speaks, her words are careful, simple. This doesn’t signify a lack of depth but rather a lifetime spent being told to remain silent. As her confidence tentatively grows throughout the Hymns of Blue Hollow series, so too does her voice.
As her creator, I listened intently. I stripped away any dialogue or action that didn’t ring true to her character. I allowed the silences to speak, for they often convey as much as words. And when Esther does speak, her words carry weight and significance.
She surprises people. She certainly surprised me.
The Hero You Don’t See Coming in this Historical Romance
In many narratives, the hero is the one who storms in, changing everything with grand gestures. Esther Primm is not that kind of hero. She changes her world, and the lives of those around her, simply by surviving. By refusing to let her spirit be entirely extinguished. By choosing, again and again, not to disappear.
And as the story of Hymns of Blue Hollow unfolds, she begins to ask herself the pivotal questions: What if survival isn’t enough? What if I dare to want something more?
That is when her true journey as a 1940s Appalachian heroine truly begins. And that is why Esther Primm is a hero worth writing, and a character readers of historical romance novels will carry in their hearts.
