Most—if not all—families become contentious at some point in their existence. Ordinary disagreements can escalate into long-standing battles, sometimes leading to deep rifts and painful estrangement. In some families, conflict becomes so normalized that chaos itself feels familiar, even sustaining.
The disharmony at the heart of the Greco family is the foundation of my novel, Olive Branches Don’t Grow on Trees. Although I wrote this book well before the political and cultural civil war now dividing the United States, its themes feel increasingly relevant. Just as in the original Civil War, today’s conflict has families divided on opposing sides, often locked into ideological battles that seem to have no foreseeable end.
Like all wars, this one is fueled by greed. There is, after all, enormous profit to be made from division—financial, political, and social capital gained by exploiting people’s differences. Yet no amount of money, power, or moral victory can ever bring true happiness. Fulfillment doesn’t come from external validation or winning arguments; it can only be cultivated from within. The outside world, no matter how loud or persuasive, is never enough.
If only we could recognize this truth before sacrificing our most meaningful relationships. If only those who have stopped speaking to a brother, sister, parent, or child over political differences could acknowledge that inner peace is impossible while conflict reigns. Fear thrives on division, but love—if we allow it—is infinitely more powerful.
At its core, Olive Branches Don’t Grow on Trees is not just a novel about family conflict; it’s a meditation on reconciliation, emotional healing, and the idea that peace must begin at home. As Silvia expresses to Vince in a pivotal scene, lasting change doesn’t start on a national stage—it begins within our own families, in the quiet, difficult work of choosing understanding over outrage and compassion over control.
Enjoy the following scene from this novel:
“Peace begins at home, you know,” she said, like some wise, old sage.
“Does it?” he said, as if he didn’t trust her words.
“Well, it has to start somewhere. It…” It was tough to go on so long as his face remained stubborn with his lips slammed shut and unconvinced eyes.
“How can you care so much about something like world peace if you’re not at peace with your own family? If you want to make peace in the world, you have to start at home.”
“I get along just fine with our family,” he said, defensively.
“What about Dad?”
“Who gets along with Dad?”
“What about how you can’t stand Doug? What did he ever do to you?”
Vince raised his eyebrows, smiled sardonically, and said “What did he ever do to me? How about what he did to the whole country? The whole world! He’s a criminal like all those Wall Street bastards!” He spoke loud and passionately like an Evangelical preacher.
“Oh, c’mon, Vince,” she said.
“It’s tough to forgive a bunch of criminals that are never blamed for their criminal activity. If anything, they’re rewarded for it.”
“Maybe he doesn’t really know the criminality of the system he works for. Ever think of that? He does seem naïve at times.”
“He’s highly educated. I think he’s wise enough to know the difference between right and wrong.”
“But can’t you, at least, give him the benefit of the doubt? And if you were not so busy hating him, you might one day have an opportunity to get through to him. And that goes for all people like him. How are you going to change the world if you can’t talk to people like Doug?”
Vince looked like he wanted to say something back but didn’t have a good comeback to this one. So, he just listened to the rest of what his suddenly didactic sister had to say about peace, love, and Wall Street.
“All I’m saying,” she continued. “Is that maybe if people like you could get through to people like Doug, we might not be in the state that we’re in. Maybe if groups of people didn’t hate each other and encapsulate themselves from each other the way they do, it might be a different world. A better world.”
