Ink and Fairydust
words from the editor
Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Elizabeth. She lived in a little house in a big city with her Dad, her Mom, her big brother Peter, her little sister Carolyn, and her dog, Jack. Okay, we didn't have a dog named Jack. Eventually we moved to the country and had a dog named Cleo, and another one named Abby, but when I was introduced to the Little House books I had no pets at all. Although my father was the one who read the Little House stories to me, the books themselves were an inheritance from my mother. The copies we read aloud at night were the worn, yellow covers of the 1960's that had once transported my mom back to the days of pioneers and covered wagons. My own passions were later to turn to different historical eras, (such as Tudor England), but there would always be a deep connection to the days of the Midwestern pioneers. My own not-so-distant ancestors had been among those who had left the cities of Europe and the East Coast to travel far from home and family to forge out a living in the wilderness. In fact, my grandparents still own some of the land owned by my great-great-great grandparents, and family names pepper the tombstones of the surrounding county for many generations back. I had ancestors who survived cold winters in dugouts on the prairie. Most of them were farmers. One, like Almanzo's parents, ran a dairy farm. Like Laura, I could also claim descent to hardy Scots. But my legacy is rich, and you'll also find strong strains of Swedish, German, and English blood running through my veins (there was a reason Kirsten was my first American Girl Doll!)
As I grew older, my understanding of the west and pioneer life deepened. I soaked in stories of the Whitmans, the Oregon Trains, the first settlers to my own state, and the stories of Sacagewea and other Native Americans that were forced to share ever dwindling homelands. Homeschooling brought all these stories alive to me as we often spent time in pursuits the pioneers would have found ordinary; canning, gardening, raising poultry and other livestock, and even washing clothes by hand a few times. I also found my way into the world of fibers, learning to card, spin, weave, knit, sew and quilt. But what were fun hobbies for me were dire facts of life for our ancestors. Women in the past grew old quickly, their backs bowed beneath heavy work, their hands rough and chapped, and their hair prematurely gray from stress and prolonged childbearing. There was an old saying "Men's work goes down with the sun, but women's work is never done" and it was true. While men could relax after dinner, women had to keep busy sewing, knitting, and tending children. Furthermore, they had to accomplish all of their tasks in heavy and restrictive clothing! The miracle is that despite all these hardships, the people of the west survived. The sweat of their labors was but the water needed to feed the nation ofAmerica. Times have changed and it is easy for us to forget the sacrifices of the past. But how can we forget how our grandmothers and grandfathers struggled to bring us the freedom and comforts we have today? So come with me, readers, and let's honor our ancestors by learning a bit more about PIONEER LIFE! Elizabeth Hausladen Editor in Chief www.elenatintil.blogspot.com
Happy Holidays l&F readers! We in the graphics department hope you all en joy our December issue, there are a ton of awe some articles this month. There were a bunch of really fun layouts for our articles this month. Special thanks to our aweso me photographers for all their hard work. I'll stop typing now so you can start to enjoy our last issue of 2010, see you in the new year! ~ Neri Preslin
Please keep all the I&F staff in your prayers this holiday season. We will he praying for you as well ... Happy Holidays, from I&F
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'Re(l,edion These Happy Golden Years Golden years are passing by, Happy, happy golden years, Passing on the wings oftime, These happy golden years. Throughout my childhood I read the Little House books at least a dozen times. But my favorite continues to be "These Happy Gol den Years". In the eighth of nine books "These Happy Golden Years" picks up right where "Little Town on the Prairie" left off.
Laura is on her way to her first job as a teacher - at fifteen years old, she's going to teach school at a homestead twelve miles away from her home. That might not seem like much to us now but imagine what it would be like in the middle of winter when all you had was a wagon and two horses. Fort unately she's rescued from long weekends in a stranger's home by Almanzo Wilder. While Laura spends her days tea ching, she grows to appreciate her family and her friends in De Smet. Eventually school is over, spring comes and everyone is ba ck on their homesteads. Laura realizes that even though she missed the country, she liked the companionship she had in town. Once again, it's Almanzo to the rescue with his new buggy for lazy Sunday afternoon drives. I won't give away the ending if you haven't read it yet. Out of all the stories this one contains the most about Laura's tr ansition from childhood to womanhood. Her first job, her fi rst boyfriend, all the firsts that come with preparing for adult life; she holds back, trying to keep her life from changing. For a long time she refuses to call Almanzo her beau. In my own life I could see the parallels. I didn't drive till I was eighteen, I never had a boyfriend in high school like so many of my friends did, and I never had a full time job. M ost of my time was spent helping my family. It took a lot for me to let go of the remnants of my childhood. Slowly, step by step, I gained my independence, and I returned to read "These Happy Golden Years" realizing new parallels every time. The return of Laura's arch nemesis Nellie Olsen was mirrored by unpleasant experiences in my steps between hi gh school and college. Like Laura, I saw my friends grow up, begin to date and so me of them begin to marry. As I continue through my life I know I'll be able to go back again and again and find even more things that Laura and I have in common.
o/'./uJse D(Jmiiticl
On Childhood Memories 10/15/01 Dear Diary, Today is Monday. I haven't written in my journal in a long time. Guess what, tonight we are going to mark offa space on the ground the size ofa wagon and pretend that we are the Ingalls tra veling across the prairie. I can't wait. Well, have to go! Bye! ~ Rose Dominick, age 9 When I was about 7 years old, my mom started to read The Little House on the Prairie stories aloud to my sisters and I. We'd read a chapter or so every night and made it through all but the last two books, which we did not own at the time. We bought The Little House Cookbook and The Little Hou se Sewing Book, though I will admit we flipped through th ose books more often than we used them. My sisters and I fell in love with Laura's stories and en joyed re-enacting her life during our play. At that time there were just four of us girls, the perfect number for the Ingalls girls. Despite the fact that I was the oldest, I always insisted on being Laura. My argument was that I had brown hair and that I was more like Laura than Mary. My next sister, Kathleen, stepped in as Mary Ingalls and my two sisters after her played Carrie and Grace. Occas ionally Carrie wanted to be Laura, but that was a battle that she never managed to win. Looking through my diary the other week to find the quote o's house in the for my article on visiting Laura and Rocky Ridge, I found myself smiling and laughing helplessly. Actually, the laughing happened while I had started typing up the article and my sister walked through the room, pi cked up my journal and started reading it aloud. I had forgotten how ... funny ... I was when I was little. I suppose I didn't
think I as funny when I was that age, but looking back... I think the most hilarious part was that for my first seven journal writing years, I wanted to be the next "Dear Diary" book. I wanted my biographer to be able to flip through my writings and know exactly what my life was like. Th at's why for the first two years I would record the day and what we had for at least two meals, if not all three and de ssert. I wrote down the names and ages of my siblings and all about myself - what I looked like, my favorite things, hair color and eye color... all things that I knew and I wa nted to make sure anyone who read my journal knew it too. They were memories of a nine, then ten, then eleven year old girl and I couldn't help smiling at her dreams and inter ests. She was a sweet girl, though one who got angry at her siblings all too often, but did at least have the repenta nce later on to cross out the worst entry. She was obsessed with "Finding Nemo", writing a four page "synopsis" that ended up being the movie with everything except for 95% of the dialogue. Oh - and creative writing class was on Th ursday. It was so much fun, re-reading my thoughts and memories from my childhood and sharing them with my family. It was also amazing how my sister would read one sentence, and I could remember almost every detail about the event, even what I was wearing sometimes. I guess writing down what happened helped me to keep it in my mind. And now I real ize, for a little bit I was the "Dear Diary" girl that I had wanted to be. It wasn't hundreds of people ac ross America reading about my life, but it was some one other than me. It was my family and together we shared a few hours of laughter and fun times remembering when I used to dream of being a "Dear Diary" or better yet, Laura Ingalls Wilder.
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A Look at the Ingalls & Wilder Traditions
Growing up, one of my favorite series of books was the Little House on the Prairie series. I loved reading about Ma, Pa, Mary, Laura, and Carrie, but my favorite part of the series, was definitely the descriptions of the Ingalls' Christmas celebrations. In all of the Little House books, the Ingalls family make the most of their poverty. Handmade mittens made with brightly knit yarn were a favorite gift. The girls loved it when Santa brought Peppermint sticks, because they co uld make the sticks last for a very long time. Pa would also make something special for Ma, usually out of wo od, such as a rocking chair or a fancy carved shelf Christmas time was also full of good things to eat. Ma's days leading up to Christmas were spent baking breads, crackers, pies, and cookies, and candy-making was an other one of Mary & Laura's favorite Christmastime ac tivities. After Ma boiled molasses or syrup with sugar, Pa would collect a large pail of snow from outside. The girls would drizzle the syrup mixture over the snow to harden. After it was hard, they were each allowed to eat one pi ece; the rest would be stored for Christmas. Family get-togethers were a regular happening during Chr istmas. Aunts, uncles, and cousins would gather at one ho use or another for Christmas Eve celebrations, complete with fiddling and games. Christmas morning brought fun for all. The cousins would compare their new mittens, eat their peppermint sticks, and play quiet games. Later in the day was dinner-the table was loaded down with all sorts of good food, including the cookies, breads, and candies that Ma and the girls had made. After dinner, the family would gather once again to sing songs. Later, while the adults talked, the kids played games. As the skies grew darker, the aunts and uncles would leave to return to their own homes, and Ma and Pa would heat potatoes in the oven to keep the travelers' hands and feet warm.
Even though most of us do not live on the prairie, we can still have our own "Little House" Christmas very simply. Setting the scene is the first step. Decorating the tree with popcorn chains, cranberry chains, and ho memade ornaments is easy, and the whole family can help! A fire in the fireplace is another nice touch to get into the "Little House" mode. If you don't have a fire place, try putting a group of candles on a side table and dim the lights- you will have the same effect as the fire! Another fun activity is to have a family sing-along. If your family is musically inclined, some members can play instruments while the rest sing; otherwise, it's fun to have an "a cappella" sing-along. Food was another element to the pioneer Christmas th at made the celebration special. It is very simple to ma ke pioneer foods-there are so many different recipes on the internet for gingerbread, popcorn, and homemade breads and candy, and all these foods were a must-have at pioneer dinner tables. Lastly, it's easy to have gifts that reflect those given by the Ingalls family. Rag dolls are always popular with girls, and toy soldiers with boys. By giving each person an orange and peppermint stick in their stocking, a po cket knife or apron for the older children, or other ho memade gifts, every person has a simple yet fun gift th at they will be sure to use again and again. Planning a "Little House Christmas" is simple, and if each member of the family helps, it will come together just like Christ mases did for the Ingalls family!
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How did your interest in Little House get started? I've been a Little House fan as far back as I can remember. I grew up watching the TV show and reading the books---I don't remember which crossed my path first! I have two sisters and we played Little House all the time. I liked being Laura best even though I'm the oldest sister. When did you start writing and how did you know you were meant to be a novelist? I have always loved to write, have always *needed* to write. I wrote a lot of short stories when I was a kid, especially in high school---though truth be told, I hardly ever finished them. I wrote a great many beginnings of stories and only a few endings! After college, I enrolled in an MFA writing program at the University of North Carolina in Greensboro. I studied with the great Fred Chappell and the poet Alan Shapiro. I entered the program as a poet, but in our workshops I realized that all my poems were long, narrative poems-stories in verse form, really. I began writing short fiction again, and by the end of my two years there I knew I wanted to write children's novels. My heart has always been with middle-grade and young adult fiction. What drew you to the characters of Martha and Charlotte (as opposed to Rose and Caroline)? Well, Martha and Charlotte are who the publisher asked me to write about. The Rose books were written by Roger MacBride, the heir of Laura's daughter, Rose Wilder Lane. Roger commissioned the Caroline books, giving writer Maria Wilkes access to all the family records and archives he had inherited. Then I was brought on board to write about Martha and, later, Charlotte. I was thrilled to get to tell Martha's story---the Scottish setting was vastly appealing to me. And I loved visiting Old Sturbridge Village, an 1830s living history museum in Massachusetts, so I was very excited to
write Charlotte's books, which were set a bit earlier than Old Sturbridge's period but were still quite similar in terms of how people lived. How difficult was it to research Martha and Charlotte and their families? The Laura Ingalls Wilder estate gave me access to everything they had on Martha and Charlotte, which wasn't much, actually---just the bare bones of their lives. I had to turn to primary source material (diaries, newspapers, etc) and historical research to flesh out the stories. That was great fun, but grueling! I worked with a researcher in Scotland and other in Boston who were able to do some of the leg work I needed. I would send a list of questions---"I need to know what kind of wood Martha's table would have been made of," that sort of thing---and they would send huge packages of articles and papers. Land records, newspapers photocopied from microfilm, church and court records, everything we could find. How much of what you wrote is fact and how much is fiction? We know Martha's birth and death dates, her husband's name, and (from a letter written by Laura's sister, Grace Ingalls Dow) that she was the daughter of a Scottish laird and married a man the family considered beneath her station. We know that she went to America
and married in Boston. We have records of the birth and death dates of all her children, including Charlotte, and their marriages. We have an advertisement Charlotte ran in a local paper, offering her services at a seamstress at an address in Roxbuy, Massachusetts. So all of that is factual in my books---but everything else is fiction. All the adventures the girls have, and the details of their family lives, are from my imagination. You try to "respectfully imagine" (to use Gail Godwin's apt phrase) what their lives might have been like, drawing upon period diaries and papers to get a picture of the time and place. If the series hadn't been discontinued, could you tell us some things we might have seen in later books? Well, we were going to see both girls get married! Martha was to be sent away to a young ladies' school in Edinburgh, where she would get some polishing (and be aching to go back home). I had a plan for her to challenge a surprised Lew Tucker to a footrace upon her return---a spontaneous dare kind of thing, and he'd be caught off guard and Martha would win. There's a reference to this episode in one of the Charlotte books. And I had a whole thing planned with Martha's wedding dress and its buttons...I imagined one of those buttons might have made its way down through the years to Ma Ingalls's button collection. What was the most surprising thing you discovered in researching for the series? That Scottish lairds didn't necessarily have a high standard of living. Higher than their tenants, certainly, but not high compared to, say, an English lord. And that most Scottish houses of this period had dungheaps right outside their doors. You'd just open the door and fling the contents of the chamber pot off to the side. Ick! We know you have a busy life as a wife and mother! How do you fit writing into that? It's challenging! I work for about two hours each evening, and a longer stretch on Saturdays. But when I wrote the Little House
books, my husband was also a stay-at-home writer and I had longer writing shifts then. He would work from 9-3 while I was with the kids, and then I would write from 3-6. It was a great schedule for all of us. Speaking of writing, how did you learn the craft of noveling? Did you just always write, or did you get any particular college degrees that helped you? I think *reading* is the thing that has done the most for my writing---for anyone's writing! The more you read, the better you write, the better grasp you have on voice and story structure and pacing. But yes, my MFA program did help me tremendously, because Fred Chappell is such an incredible writer and teacher. And also because spending those two years focusing exclusively on my writing was a way for me to discover whether I was really, truly serious about pursuing the craft. Do you have any other projects under way? I have a beginning reader in the works with Random House, I recently finished a middle-grade novel, and I'm working now on a young adult historical fiction novel. What advice would you give aspiring writers? Read read read. Until your eyes are falling out. Carry a notebook everywhere to jot down story ideas, funny lines overheard, images, memories. Write every day---something, whether it's a poem, a journal entry, a blog post, part of a story---but something. And then read some more. The writer Hunter S. Thompson said he learned to write by typing out one of Hemingway's novels from start to finish. That experience taught him word by word, sentence by sentence. In a funny way, I had a similar experience. When I was a young staffer at a publishing house, I got a job on the side typing out Noel Streatfeild's BALLET SHOES. The entire book! It's quite long! And wonderful. The publisher was reissuing it, and they didn't have a copy on disk. It had to be typed on a computer for them to move forward. So I did that, for about $8 an hour I think, and I learned so much from the process. I'm not the fastest typist. Medium-fast, I guess. As I worked my way through the manuscript, I was studying Streatfeild's sentence structure, her chapter pacing, her characterization and dialogue--everything. It was an amazing and quite unexpected learning experience. Melissa Wiley is the author of eight novels of Laura Ingalls Wilder and the homeschooling mother of six. She blogs about books, education, and family life at Here in the Bonny Glen (melissawiley.com/blog).
The usual schedule of today's teenagers: Throw the alarm clock against the wall. Shower. Eat. School. Eat. Get home.Nap. Homework. Computer. Eat. Bed.... Repeat. Teenagers' usual schedule back in the 1800's: Throw a rock at the rooster. Take 20 minutes to get dressed. Make breakfast. Go to and/or teach school. Eat. Walk back home. Outdoor work. Indoor work. Prepare dinner. Homework. Bed.... Repeat. See the difference? Teenagers no more than 200 years ago had an unbelievably different schedule than we do now. They were expected to act like an adult, and take on responsibilities that we wouldn't be expected to do until we're somewhere around 20 years old. At least. When they were hungry, there were no McDonald's or Burger King to hurry to and pur chase a quick bite to eat. They had no refrigerators to raid every time their stomachs decided to take up drumming lessons. They only ate meat when the family got lucky and killed a wild deer, bird, or rodent. They ate homegrown vegetables and sometimes fruit. If a cow or goat was owned, they'd have milk for mealtimes, but otherwise, water was usually from creeks and rivers. If the family got a hold of some wheat or cornmeal, they could have bread as a treat....When is the last time you thought of bread being a treat? What would you think if you saw a 16 year old wife, with children, independently sup porting herself and her husband? Cooking, cleaning, going out, taking care of the house, the kids-doing all of that by herself ? Back then, 16 was even considered a fairly late age to get mar ried. Most girls were engaged by 14! The average age of teachers nowadays is around 25-30 years old. In the late 1800's/early 1900's, The average age of teachers was 13-15. That's like 8th or 9th graders teaching school! Every girl was expected to know how to cook, sew, clean, read, write, take care of animals, take care of children, watch and mind the farm, and garden. (Now, that's a mouthful!) Every boy was expected to know how to farm, mend just about anything, and he was supposed to learn a trade at a very young age. Boys usually took up the trades of their fathers, but several would learn a completely new trade (and may I add, they were usually very successful at it). With the new technology we have developed over the years, our lives have become much easier than in the time of Little House on the Prairie. If you've ever read the Little House book by Laura Ingalls Wilder, or watched the movies, you can get a little taste of how hard things were back then. We should thank God to have allowed our nation to grow so much in such little time!
\1siting Laura's House 0J 1<,ose Dominick
6/28/02
Dear Diary, Today is Friday. I'm in Missouri. I went to Mansfield. It was fun. I went swimming too. Bye I The summer that I was 10, my family and I traveled to Ok lahoma for a conference. I remember most ofthat trip very clearly. My sister - who is slightly lactose in-tolerant - had too much milk to drink for breakfast the day we left and by the time we hit Missouri she ... well, she was pretty miser able. (Ever since then we've pronounced Missouri as mis ery.) I remember going a whole day without water and ge tting dehydrated... and missing a dinner ofmacaroni and cheese and pecan pie, my favorite foods at the time. I rem ember visiting Mammoth Caverns and being in awe ofthe beautiful rock formations. I remember visiting the Bass Pro Shop headquarters and eating at the restaurant they had th ere that was so crowded they had to give my family the pr ivate dining room. And then I remember Mansfield Missouri, home ofLaura Ingalls Wilder. As a young girl, "The Little House on the Prairie" was still one ofmy favorites series. I hadn't seen the TV show yet, but I loved the books. I had also read the series about Laura's daughter Rose, and while I hadn't liked them as much, I was excited to see the home where Rose grew up after her parents moved from South Dakota to the Ozark Mountains. I remember that it was very warm outside. We were going to view Laura and,�•=••�o's white house on Rocky Ridge Farm, the house they moved into after leaving DeSmet, So uth Dakota. We waited until it was time for the tour and then we went inside. I can still picture the majority �fthe house, the kitchen and the shorter than normal counters a ctually at the time they were almost just right for me. 1' was told that Laura only ever grew to be about 5'2"; I rememb er feeling excited and amazed that I was almost as tall as Laura Ingalls had been. The tour guide led us through the house and pointed out the stairs that led to the second story - stairs that had a large red rope across them. I was quite disappointed that they woul-
dn't take us upstairs. I loved history and I loved Laura Ingalls and I wanted to see all the rooms in her house. I did, however, get to see the desk that she would write at, as well as a few ofthe manuscripts, and that did ma ke up for not being able to view the upstairs. The tour finished and my family and I headed back outside. We visited the giftshop and there I bought a tin cup that had a penny and a candy stick in it - just like the cup that Laura and Mary got as Christmas presents in Little House on the Prairie when Mr. Edwards came all the way thro ugh the snow and wind. I still have that cup and I just passed it on to my younger sister who doesn't remember the visit because she was only four. We went to Laura's other house after that. Once Rose grew up and moved out on her own, going to Europe as a reporter after World War I, she came back and built her parents a new house. This house was made ofstone and was a modem house. We walked through it, and I think I remember feeling that it seemed too modem for a Little House, too much like a house I might live in, e ven thought it was pretty. There was a big long grassy space out in front ofthe house and a creek in the middle ofit. My sisters and I ran across the grass and down the bank, feeling a bit like the Little House on Plum Cr eek. We walked around and found a dugout in the bank, my dad said that it was probably a shed. I think we mi ght have eaten lunch somewhere, or maybe that was before the Rocky Ridge Farm. And then we left. I've never visited any ofLaura's other houses, though I have seen pictures and would like to visit at least one more some day. As a girl who often pretended that she was Laura In galls, it was a trip that made a lasting impression - I visited the home ofan author I loved. It was a trip that I think will stay in my memory for quite a long time.
It �tep Back ln by Ellen Dore
GOLD: The very word could inspire
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Klondike. Gold Rush
Lower 48 states until the summer of 1897, nearly a year after the initial discovery. The steamer Portland docked excitement in the minds of every person who had ever in Seattle, bringing with it 68 miners and $700,000 worth dreamed of gold. Gold was, in a sense, a drug that muddled the minds of the people affected by it, indulging of gold. The news spread around the city like wildfire, and every person in the city felt the 'call of the wild' and them in their illusions of inconceivable wealth just lying the hope of riches beyond all imagining. As the stories on the ground, free for the taking. Strange that this went, all a person had to do was walk around and pick up shiny, yellow metal could cause such a mad rush to a gold nuggets lying on the ground. A man would be rich wild, largely unsettled land-- the Klondike. This past summer, I had the opportunity to travel in a matter of hours. With Klondike Fever spreading rapidly around to Canada, following the path of this same gold rush the city and country, many cities suffered labor shortages about 115 years later. I was impressed with the beautiful as dockworkers, laborers, merchants, farmers, and even scenery, historical sights, and the cities and towns that the mayor quit their jobs and got passage on a steamship are still rich with history, and keep the gold rush alive up to the Alaskan port towns of Skagway and Dyea. even now. To better understand and appreciate what I Within about six months, about 100,000 hopeful was seeing as we traveled, I found it fascinating to learn miners had departed on a long trip for the gold the story of the Klondike Gold Rush, which does not fields. They came from all over the world, from different seem to be a widely known story. It is easy to forget backgrounds and lines of work, with each of them about shorter events that have occurred 'way up choosing to travel a different route. Some began their north: Yet all the same, it is a fascinating story that journey from the East Coast of the U.S., and sailed deserves to be told. The Klondike Gold Rush began in the summer of around the tip of South America, then north. A few miners left places as far away as Norway to come to the 1896, when George Carmack, his wife Kate, and her Klondike for gold. Once north, the richer men would brother "Skookum" Jim traveled up Bonanza Creek in Yukon Territory, Canada, near modern day Dawson City, take the longer, easier route by sailing through the Bering Strait, and up the Yukon River to Dawson. The 'poor to fish and stock up food for the winter. While there, George washed a pan in the creek, and found a large gold man's route: which was the route that the great majority of miners took, began at the Alaskan towns of Skagway nugget in the water. Immediately, he rushed over to the nearby town of Fortymile to announce his discovery and and Dyea, only a few miles away from each other, at the head of the Lynn Canal. stake his claim. If the miners started their journey from Dyea, Once the men in Fortymile learned about the they would hike the Chilkoot Trail up to Lake Bennett, discovery, they literally dropped everything and stam and there wait for the ice to clear so they could travel peded to Bonanza Creek. Fortymile became a ghost down the Yukon to Dawson. If they started at Skagway, town nearly overnight, with most of its inhabitants they would hike the White Pass route to either Lake grabbing necessities and leaving the rest behind as they Lindeman or Lake Bennett. Once at the lakes, each man departed, hoping to make a fortune. would build his own boat in preparation for the journey Word of the discovery spread rapidly throughout the down the Yukon, for which they had to wait out the Yukon and Alaska, reaching as far south as Juneau, winter. Alaska, by the winter. As more and more people caught The White Pass route was sold to miners as a rela gold fever and made their way to the Klondike, hoping to tively easy route that would allow wagons through. Go strike it rich, more claims were staked and more gold ing off this false information, many miners tried to travel deposits were discovered on the Eldorado and Hunker that route with pack horses and wagons. The trail was creeks. The news of the gold discovery did not reach the much more difficult and much steeper and rougher than
they had been informed, and so many pack horses were worked to death on that trail that it was nicknamed the Deadhorse Trail. The Chilkoot Trail was much shorter, yet far steeper and more difficult than the White Pass route. Ca nadian officials would wait at the border to ensure that each man had a year's supply of food along with him, which was roughly one ton of supplies and gear. Some men hired the natives to help them pack the supplies. Dog sleds, driven by the natives, were common. By the time the miners had gotten this far, they found their biggest obstacle on the Chilkoot Trail: the Golden Stairs. This was a long, steep, difficult hill that had to be climbed to get up to the official Canadian border. Each man had to carry all his gear up, which translated to approximately forty trips up and down the Chilkoot pass, carrying about fifty pounds each trip up. Most men could only make one trip each day, as the ascent could take as long as six hours. Once all the gear was up at the border, the Canadian Mounties would allow the miners through the border. Many of them used dog sleds at this point to pack supplies to Lakes Lindeman and Bennett. The flow of miners continued to rise steadily, and by spring of 1898, nearly two years after Carmack discov ered gold on Bonanza Creek, there were still miners who were traveling up the Golden Stairs. The natives began to warn the miners not to take the trail any longer, as the snow was unstable. The miners refused to listen, still driven by a strong desire for gold, and disregarded all further warnings. The natives left the camps, their common sense winning out against their wish to be paid by the miners for packing supplies. Finally, on April 3, 1898, which was Palm Sunday, the avalanche the natives had predicted came barreling down the pass. At least sixty men were killed in this avalanche, and most likely countless more that were never found. Despite the avalanche, the men were not dissuad ed from their trek to the gold fields. They buried the bodies of the men who'd died in the Slide Cemetery, then pressed on up the trail again. The Chilkoot Trail lost its appeal when the railroad wound its way through White Pass, beginning at Skagway. Immediately, Skagway became a boom town, with all new miners arriving there taking the train. The people who lived in Dyea, the base town for the Chilkoot Trial, a town that had previously been larger than Skag way, packed up their belongings, carefully took down their houses, and moved to Skagway, rebuilding their houses and businesses there. The people were so meticulous when leaving
Dyea, that all that remains of the ghost town today is one false front from the real estate building, the ruins of a large warehouse, a few boards and remnants of buildings, and slightly dug out areas, revealing where houses or cellars had been. Finally, the miners at the lakes, waiting for the end of winter to travel down the Yukon to Dawson, were rewarded for their patience. They started on the danger ous trip down the Yukon, many of them running aground or overturning their boats at rapids such as Five Finger Rapids and Miles Canyon (at present day White horse). After their long, arduous journey that took over a year for some of them, they arrived in Dawson City to find an unpleasant surprise waiting for them. The discovery of gold had been in 1896. It was now 1898, and by now, every inch of land on the creeks and around Dawson had been claimed. Some of the disappointed miners turned around immediately and went home. Others obtained jobs working for the miners with claims. And still others kept an optimistic outlook and started businesses in Skagway, soon making the fortune they had dreamed of faster than many of the miners. My own trip to the Klondike, while far easier and not at all dangerous, was exciting and interesting. It was an amazing experience and a wonderful, scenic trip I shall never forget. Skagway and Dawson City seem to have been suspended in time, back in 1898, as the old buildings and boardwalks have been preserved. It truly is a step back in time, which is an incredible experience for any lover of history. Whitehorse, which is a city on the Yukon River between Skagway and Dawson, is bursting with gold rush history as well, although it has modernized more than the other two cities. It sits on the Yukon River, just downriver from Miles Canyon, and still has several of the steamboats and paddle boats for people to visit and walk through. Dawson City still holds many remnants of the gold rush, the most notable of which includes one of the massive gold dredges. The town of Skagway seems to survive mainly on tourism, yet still retains the gold rush spirit which so enchants visitors. However, it is Dawson City, the heart of the Klondike Gold Rush, which out shines them all, thriving while still keeping its history alive.
klondike Photos
by Ellen Dore
This the false front remain ing at ])yea A picture of Skagway as we were coming in on the ferry. ' ,.,. t ·� �i,•:
',
the convergence of the Yukon (muddy) and Klondike rivers at Dawson
A picture of the Yukon River, just out of White horse, and you can faintly see the Miles Canyon bridge.
Ellen at the Yukon & Klondike rivers at Dawson
These boats traveled up and down the Yukon constantly hack in the Klondike Gold rush times. Gold nuggets, rather large ones, in my hand. I felt so rich for a few seconds...to hold $15,000 in my hands...
A gold dredge in Dawson City
Five Finger Rapids
A view over looking Dawson City from the top of Monum ent Hill.
from an Australi
Point of Vie The words "Laura Ingalls Wilder Cookbook" ought to be enough to excite the imagination of anyone who has read the books by the pr eviously mentioned author. Wafts of apples'n' onions, green pumpkin pie that tastes like ch icken, doughnuts and molasses taffy that be fore only existed in wild imaginings are now made real to you. All that is needed now is the pioneering spirit - and a strong stomach, for Australians. The former we believed we had, right from the start. The latter we only recently learned that we needed.
frugal supplies and limited resources. They were satisfied with much less than what we are satisfi ed with now. There was one recipe that my brothers were sim ply not allowed to make, and that was blackbird pie. First, we don't go out and shoot blackbirds anymore. Second, the shops no longer adequately supply you with fresh blackbirds - or indeed, any blackbirds in these times. Last of all, my mother did not want my brothers going out and shooting blackbirds. So that was one recipe which I don't think anyone would make anymore ...
I have had absolutely no first-hand experience with this cookbook. I was: a) obviously too yo However, they were allowed to make green pum pkin pie, and basically any other pie there was in ung, since I have no memories whatsoever of these experiments, and: b) probably capable of the book - provided it didn't have molasses in it. ruining the kitchen if left alone with food in it. They were also allowed to make green tomato chutney, and the description for all of these was So all I have is a narrative, dictated from fam simply adequate. In the end, the cookbook itself ily members (mostly my mother). That's still was 'adequate' to us. quite enough for me ... Anything, anything with molasses was a no-go. From reading the book itself, molasses taffy seems to be a huge treat, even though molasses is simply a 'short sweetener.' Maybe it was the taste buds rebelling against such a pioneer dish, maybe it was simply Australian molasses that was extremely different - we didn't need to try it again. Once was enough. Happily, though, there were recipes that were tasteful - even to an Australian palate. True, do ughnuts and apples'n'onions never really turned out how we wanted them, but there were excu ses - the failed Ingalls doughnuts started a who le doughnut craze in the family, and the apples 'n'onions - they lived in much simpler times, with
Perhaps an Australian's taste buds are different from an Americans, or perhaps it's just because it was over a century ago. People had to make do with what they had, and make it taste as nice as they could. So I think the Ingalls family did pr etty well, considering what they had, even if we didn't quite like it.
Where There ts No Hot Water bg Elizabeth Hausladen
.r I am so glad I live in the 21st century. Last month I had a chance to travel back in time, and let me tell you, it was not fun. Okay, so I didn't exactly travel back in time. But it was the next best (or rather, worst) thing. We had an absolutely furious rainstorm blow through our part of the state. Flooding erupted everywhere-including our basement. Before we quite knew what had happened, our furnace and hot water heater suffered a tragic death by drowning. And it was a Thursday. Let me tell you what happens when a hot water heater dies. You can't get it fixed right away. You have to have different repair men come and give you estimates. When it's the weekend, you have to wait an extra day or two for that to happen. Then they have to fit you into their schedule. Then they have to come and do the repair. All in all, it can take five days to a week until you have hot water again. That doesn't sound too bad, does it? But in the meantime, what about washing your hands? Cold water gets miserable after about ten seconds! And the dishes! It takes at least ten minutes to boil a big pot of water on the stove, and then it only fills half of the small sink, and you can only wash so many dishes before it gets dirty and you have to boil water. Clothes aren't so bad. You can wash clothes in cold water. It's not ideal, but for a week, it's managable. Unless of course you buy new clothes or fabric and want to make them shrink or rinse out extra dye. You can't do that with cold water. I had two yards of black satin that I absolutely had to wash. So I put them in a pot on the stove and boiled the lot. That was actually rather fun, but a lot of work and I'm terribly glad I didn't have to do that for all of our laundry.
•
But the worst by far was showers. No normal hu man being can go more than 48 hours before they start to really stink. Our family coped by driving to relatives homes and gyms to wash. But after five days, that gets to be a lot of driving. One night I was so tired of going places, I decided to boil water and haul it up to the bath tub. "That's going to take a LOT of water;' my parents told me. I waved them off. "I don't need that much!" Completely gung-ho, I filled up every pot, kettle and pan I could find and put them on the stove to boil. We have a five burner stove, so I could get five going at a time. Then I found another glass measuring bowl that could hold about four quarts and started using that in the microwave. I hauled all six containers up to the bathtub and poured them in. There was about an inch and a half of water. So I boiled more water, and added some cold water from the tap, and by the time I was done I had about four inches of warm water to bath in. That's when I started thinking about Laura Ingalls Wilder and real ized exactly why the pioneers only bathed once a week (if that). The hot water heater was fixed the next day and there were shouts of joy throughout the house. We hap pily dipped our hands into warm water and gloried in the sensations. Oh what a blessing it is to be warm! And for all that I adore the Little House books, I would never want to actually live through them. Liv ing without hot water was bad enough-I can't imagine how horrible it would be without dishwashers, washing machines, vacuums, running water, central heating, air conditioning, cars, lawn-mowers and computers!
One of my favorite periods in history was our country's we stward expansion, or "The Pioneer Days". The main reason I like it is because of all the wonderful stories that have co me out of it, fiction and non-fiction. That's an-other great aspect of this time period; it was very well documented, es pecially by women. These women lived the adventures of the Oregon and Mormon trails; they lived the hard years on the homestead claims in the middle of nowhere. Their first hand accounts of life on the frontier have led to some won derful fictional accounts, some even based directly off of th eir accounts. Onec of these stories based off a real account is The Kin ship and Courage series by Jane Kirkpatrick. A three part series, the books focus on a group of settlers traveling we st on the Oregon Trail, but along the way all of their husb ands die. Now the women must decide whether or not to go on or return to their homes. Based off the real life story where all the men in a wagon train died and the women re turned home, Ms. Kirkpatrick takes the extra step of imag ining 'what would have happened if the women had contin ued on?' Covered Wagon Women Vol. 9 Iowa to Oregon 1864 by Elizabeth Lee Porter -A Trip to the Idaho Mines 1864 by Clarissa Elvira Shipley Seven Months on the Oregon Trail 1864 by Mary Louisa Black- To California by the Mormon Trail 1865
Sometimes just a line, other times pages of information and all of it is real. That's the most amazing part of these stor ies; every one of them was real. Mollie "I have become a little bit acquainted with "By", as they call him. I have made it all right about shutting the door in his face. Today while mixing up my bread he came and planted himself directly before me. I felt embarrassed and asked him to leave, but he would not and kept on watching me. I think I never made such a mess in my life ... "~ Mollie Dorsey Sanford
Mollie is the complete diary of a young woman whose family mo ves to Nebraska in 1857 her diary continues through her lengthy engagement, marriage and then her journey even farther west to Colorado ending in 1866. She's a real girl giving her take on real experiences from the early west. Across the Wide and Lonesome Prairie: The Oregon Trail Diary of Hattie Campbell 1847 by Kristiana Gregory
Meet Hattie: after four of her siblings die from a fever, her father de cides to move their family from Missouri to Oregon. Along the way Hattie experiences more than she ever thought she would. She sees people die, she witnesses children being born, and she even meets her future husband - though she didn't know it at the time. A wonderful p iece of fiction, it tells a great story while remaining true to the period. A Lantern in Her Hand by Bess Streeter Aldrich When we first meet her, Abbie Mckenzie Deal is just a child moving to the wilds of Iowa in 1854 the story never leaves her till she leaves this world. Bess Streeter Aldrich tells an amazing story of a woman who is never really sure of what's happening but always perseveres. Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink Caddie is a young tomboy, readily accepted by her brothers as one of them, the horror of her mother and older sister and her father's favorite. Based off the author's grandmother's childhood, the sto ries of day to day life in the 1800's are full of exciting escapades, making this book the perfect combination of Little House on the Pr airie and Tom Sawyer. Seeds of Hope: The Gold Rush Diary of Suzanna Fairchild California Territory 1849 by Kristiana Gregory Suzanna's family sets off for the gold rush, not across the plains and mountains, but around the horn. On the way the unthinkable happens - Suzanna's mother is swept overboard and dies, leaving Suzanna, her sister and her father alone in the world. When they reach San Francisco, things are nothing like they imagined. The reality of the gold rush sets in - between the rough men and the wild animals, it's tough to be a girl in gold rush California. Kristi ana Gregory tells another amazing tale in this diary, and she clever ly connects it to Hattie Cambell's diary.
The Life of a Homesteader #�18 · 84,: by Rebekah Hall'ft a,�
Sixteen year-old Hattie Inez Brooks has been an orphan for most of her life, going from relative to relative as cir cumstance demands. Unlike many other orphaned hero ines, Hattie can boast that she has never been in a parti cularly bad or abusive situation. In fact, she's quite co mfortable in her present home, even if her aunt would lo ve nothing better than to see her gone. The aunt gets her wish granted, however, when a previously unknown uncle bequeaths Hattie a 320-acre claim in Montana. That is to say, he bequeaths Hattie an unproven 320-acre claim in Montana. Indeed,proving up,as it's known, is half the trouble of it all. The Montana prairie may be the land of big skies and bigger dreams, but the law is quite firm with homesteaders. Buildings must be built, land must be tilled and planted, a fraction of the property fenced in, and a fee paid, all within three years. When Hattie arrives, however, her problem is not that she has only three years; it's that she only has ten months. Her mysterious uncle started the claim two years, two months ago and the law isn't about to rewind the clock just because it's hers now. A claim's a claim, no matter who's tilling the soil.
Both fortunately and unfortunately for Hattie, she's not a lone. The good neighbors are more than willing to lend a hand when the going gets rough and frequently save her from her own stupidity. The more politically-minded ones, though, are just as willing to make her life as hard as they can. Yet, if the Mother Nature of Montana has it her way, neither party may get what they want. The lesson that Hattie has yet to learn is that despite all their personal dra mas, every claim owner in Montana bows down to the sa me mistress: Nature. After all, she is homesteading in "next-year country"; next year will be better.
Hattie tells her own story, and is our narrator month by grueling month as she teaches herself to farm, quilt, and survive abrasive weather, all by the sheer strength of willpower. There's a reason why the Hattie comes be fore the Big Sky in the title; more than homesteading, Montana prairie, or all other things combined, the story is first and foremost about Hattie and her development into a confident young woman. The writing could've benefited from a few touch-ups by a good editor, but it's still good on a whole. If nothing else, the bizarre prairie-life fun facts make up for it. The lengthy bibliography at the end assures the reader that the author, Kirby Larson, definitely did her homework on the matter. Hattie Big Sky is a wonderful, if painfully brief, romp in the world of prairie life that both lovers of the subject and those indifferent to it will enjoy.
read by kirstcn potter
UNABRIDGED
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CoVV\pi{ed by: A{ice Ricl,,.avds Have you ever read the "Little House on the Prairie" books? Yes. Love them. I'd love to see definitive movie versions made of them: they're really excellent stories. If so, which characters do you favor and why? I pretty much like everyone in the books. Laura is a very sympathetic VP character and she really makes you understand when she herself isn't being fair to someone else.
What do you think about the style of dresses back in the 1800's? Don't care for the bustle. I think the style of dresses Ma and Mrs. Wilder (Almanzo's mother) are preferable to the ones that Laura and Mary wear when they are teens. Generally I don't care for calico dresses! Do you think you would have liked living back then, as opposed to now? I'm actually quite fond of the modem age in which we live, and I have very little sentimental yearning for the past. I'm not convinced life was easier then, or at any point in history. But I am convinced that it's the prediliction for people to feel, as they age, that things are getting worse, since almost all elderly people, no matter what their time period, seem to universally feel that they have watched things get worse during their lifetimes. There are a few notable exceptions. I hope to be one of them.
Perhaps being Catholic has something to do with this: with a 2000-year-old history, I can't think of any sins or mistakes that Catholics haven't made even during the "Golden Years." Today, perhaps there is more unbelief in some areas of the world, and much has been lost. But we have holy and inspired leadership at the top (the Pope) which often Catholics in the Middle Ages and Renaissance didn't have. Catholics and Protestants are no longer at each other's throats, killing each other over doctrine: THAT'S a huge blessing to be thankful for! And I remember when as a child, we were told that Communism was inevitable and would rule the world by 1984 --- thank God that didn't happen! So I think there's much to be thankful for that often we Christians, in our more pessimistic moments, overlook. I think that Christians in every age have particular crosses to shoulder, and God has put each of us in the time period to which we are best suited to bless and sanctify. So I'm content. Do you think anything was better back then than nowadays? If so, what? There was a more human scale to life and agriculture which I think we all appreciate. The rigors of schooling and the literacy of the population out on the prairie is certainly impressive. Remember why Laura wrote these books: because as an adult, she heard the Western pioneers derided as uncultured hicks who couldn't read or write. Knowing the sacrifices her own parents and their little communities made to educate and culture their children, she was determined to set the record straight. And she really did. I don't think most suburban co-ops could rival the fun of the "Literaries" the town of De Smet put together, and few high school sophomores could narrate American history the way Laura and her classmate did their last year of school. Laura's chronicle of pioneer life is invaluable for what it celebrates and the memories it preserves. May they inspire us!
Premiering June 23rd - 26th, 2011 in St. Paul, MN! Check out www.theshadowofthebear.blogspot.com for more info about the release!
"We wouldn't do much if we didn't do things that nobody ever heard of before" ~Ma (The Long Winter)
"I want to see a papoose." "Mercy on us! Whatever makes you want to see Indians? We will see enough of them. More than we want to, I wouldn't wonder." "They wouldn't hurt us, would they?" ~Laura, Ma and Mary (Little House on the Prairie)
"This earthly life is a battle, if it isn't one thing to contend with, it's another. It always has been so, and it always will be. The sooner you make up your mind to that, the better off you are, and the more thankful for your pleasures." ~ Ma (Little Town on the Prairie)
black cats!" Pa (The Banks of Plum Creek)
"Golden years are passing by, happy, happy golden years, passing on the wings of time, these happy golden years. Call them back as they go by, sweet their memories are. Oh, improve them as they fly, these happy golden years?' ~Pa (These Happy Golden Years)
"Mr. Edwards said he was a wildcat from Tennessee;' ~ Pa (The Banks of Plum Creek)
"How does a panther scream?" "Like a woman. Like this." ''Mercy Charles!'' ~Laura, Pa and Ma (Little House in the Big Woods)
ÂŤT"'-e v-ic"'- W\aV\. "'-as "'-is ice iVt t"'-e SlAW\W\eV" aVtd t"'-e poov- W\aV\. gets "'-is iVt t"'-e wiVttev-." ~Lauv-a (T"'-e Fiv-st Fouv- Yeav-s) "Why, Mr. Edwards, it is news to us that you have a family, Mr. Ingalls said nothing of if' "I didn't know it myself. Anyway, Edwards, you don't have to pay taxes on your wife and children:' "He wanted a big tax list. Politicians, they take pleasure a-prying into a man's affairs and I aimed to please 'em. It makes no matter. Got no children and no wife, nohow:' ~ Ma, Pa and Mr. Edwards (The Long Winter)
"That machine's a great invention! Other folks can stick to old-fashioned ways if they want to, but I'm all for progress. It's a great age we're living in. As long as I raise wheat I'm going to have a machine come and thresh it, if there's one anywhere in the neighborhood." ~Pa (Little House in the Big Woods)
"I wish I could drive, I always wanted to, but Pa won't let me:' ~Laura (By the Shores of Silver Lake)
"Pa couldn't have cut off his whiskers, could he?" "Mercy no! I hope not?' ~ Ma and Laura (Little Town on the Prairie)
"Well, first of all, be patient. Try to see things his way, so far as you can. Better not try to make him do anything, because you can't."
~ Pa (These Happy
Golden Years)
As we walked, I told him how I had noticed the painting hanging on the wall. I had become curious since the scene it depicted looked so very familiar, and went to examine it more closely. "Then I just barely, barely touched the frame with the tip of my finger, and the painting fell off the wall. As I went to replace it, I noticed some words written on the wall in a lead pencil. It said: Never stop seeking, You will find it one day. A portal to be entered 'Fore the times go gray. There was a date written beneath the words, too. It was Octoher 17, 18 something or other ...the pencil was smudged away."
"But why ?" . "I don't know." We walked in a silence for a while, and I held Hugh's arm a little more tightly. Not only was I rather cold, I also had a feeling deep in my mind that I was in danger. I'd felt it the moment we'd stepped outside, and it just kept growing and growmg. Suddenly Hugh stopped walking. "Helena," he said in a low voice. "Do you have the feeling that we're being followed or watched?" I felt a huge jolt of fear. He'd noticed it too.
Hugh's arm tightened on my arm. "Helena," he said in a choked voice. "That was the day before my father died. He died one night in a mining accident on October 18, 1886 - nearly two years ago."
"Yes. Yes, I've felt that way ever since we left the house." I looked around with trepidation. We were surrounded by tall brick buildings, and it had grown very dark. There were no other people around, at least as far as I could see.
"I'm so sorry."
"I never should have taken you this far. Let's go back."
"Thanks." Hugh's voice was husky. "But I have to see that writing ...I have to know if he wrote it." He paused. "Do you think that maybe he's somehow still alive?" "I have no idea. But I think he might be. Hugh, if it is his handwriting, perhaps he was trying to leave you a message. Perhaps he was taken to my world."
We'd gone scarcely twenty paces when I heard footsteps hurrying up behind me. The next thing I knew, the deadly cold of steel was pressed against my throat. "Let go of her!" cried Hugh in a loud, angry voice, springing at my attacker.
He succeeded in throwing the man off balance, which gave me chance to shove the man's arm away from where it was pinned against my shoulders. But the sword was still there, held tightly against me, and I realized with a rush of terror that there was nothing I could do. If I tried to move any more, he would slit my throat. The man shook his arm, trying to get rid of Hugh, and then his hand connected with the side of Hugh's head. My breath caught in my throat at the cracking sound it made. Hugh was not about to give up, however. After reeling slightly from the blow, he steadied himself and rushed at the man from behind. The moment before their bodies hit, I heard Hugh hiss my name. I nodded and prepared to throw the man's sword away from my throat, so that I wouldn't be trapped if he fell on top of me. Trapped. Or worse. The man stumbled as Hugh threw himself at him, and, just as I'd anticipated, the sword tightened against my throat. I got my arms between my body and his sword arm and threw myself to the right, into the crook of his elbow, as he crashed to the ground with Hugh on top of him. For one sickening moment I felt the sword graze my throat, and then I was caught in the folds of his cape, struggling towards the air, and finally rolling away from the fighting bodies. Hugh was still on top, but I feared he wouldn't be able to stay there for long. The man was considerably taller than him, and incredibly strong. Hugh had gotten one of his arms pinned pretty well, but I could see that his hold wouldn't last forever. As they rolled away from me, I darted forward and picked up the sword. It was well-made, very heavy, and I noticed with shock that there was blood on it. I put my hand to my throat and realized that the sword had left a long scratch. I stood there, sword in hand, unsure of what to do, when I spotted a familiar, black-clad figure turning the comer.
Normally I would have run the other way, but today I ran straight towards him, letting the sword clatter to the ground. "Sir! Please help! This man attacked me ...he had a sword ...my friend can't hold him down much longer!" The policeman took one look at the struggle and began to run towards them. Much to my relief, the man in the cloak cooperated surprisingly well the instant he felt the muzzle of a pistol against the back of his neck and heard the calm, cool voice of the policeman telling him he had the right to remain silent and exactly where he was. The policeman snapped a pair of handcuffs to the man's wrists and yanked him to his feet. The man struggled up, scowling darkly and muttering strange sounding curses. "Now, now, that'll be enough from you," said the policeman, jerking on the handcuffs. "You two had better come along with us, too," he added, looking at me and Hugh. I shrank back. There was no way in the world I was going with him, risk being asked too many questions, and have my freedom taken from me. I suddenly looped my arm over Hugh's shoulders. "Hugh ... " I said faintly. "I feel terrible. Can we please just go home?" I swayed a bit on my feet and Hugh put his arm around me. "Are you all right?" "No ...I'm not ...I feel like I'm going to faint, in fact." Closing my eyes, I sank to the ground.
It was a skeleton in her closet. Or rather, 50,000 words on her computer harddrive at which she couldn’t bear to look. Despite everything Anna had done to prepare for NaNoWriMo, she still had a sinking feeling that her results would be better off in her trash bin than on a Barnes & Noble bookshelf. So December slipped by, and January, and February... spring came, and it was time to order her free printed copy of her novel that she'd earned by doing NaNo, and she found herself panicking. There was no way she was going to publish – even for herself – that piece of junk! But how could she possibly edit it in time? If only she had buckled down to work on it back in January, like she had originally resolved! Has this ever happened to you? Have you written something that had tons of potential, but now you can't bear to look at because you know it is full of problems? Oh dear, reader, don't be so downhearted! You are not alone! Most first drafts are positively awful! You do know that Regina Doman rewrote Black as Night over a dozen times before she reached the published version, right? No writer sits down and churns out perfect material. In fact, revision is a good two thirds of the writing process! So give yourself a pat on the back for getting the first third of the process done, then pull out your computer and get to work. Before you revise, keep some things in mind. What does my character want in this chapter? What is the theme of my novel? What appears later in the novel that I never set up? Then as you write, take out excess dialogue and
description that have nothing to do with furthering the plot or highlighting the theme. Edit to make sure that your character acts consistently with their goals. If they want to find the glass slipper, don't have them always leaving the road to drink beer in a tavern. Unless, of course, their evil father is forcing them to find the glass slipper and what they really want is to escape from his domineering! Then send him off on every tangent you can find! Compare your finished draft to a three act structure (see last month's article). Do you have all the information you need in your first three chapters? What is your first turning point? Your mid-point? Your last free choice? Can you cut out anything from the first chapter to get to the action quicker? Can you shorten the denouement? (I cut my denouement from three chapters to one in my final revision. It makes everything much neater, simpler, and more engaging in the long run). If you want feedback from others on the flow of your plot, do NOT ask them to read the whole novel. Write a detailed 5-10 page synopsis and have them read that. They should be able to tell you whether anything seems superfluous, or if there isn't enough tension, or whether you need a bigger climax. For this feedback, make sure you ask only people who know a lot about plot and story structure! Just because someone knows grammar doesn't mean they understand plot! Find a seasoned novel writer or editor if you can, or a friend or professor who has a wide understanding of good stories and how they work. Go through the manuscript again, and again, and again until you are perfectly satisfied on all accounts. Then, hand it over to a group of trusted readers. These should be people who have read a lot in the genre of your novel, and also know something about writing. Ask them to mark down typos, grammatical errors, any inconsistencies they find, or anything that confuses them.
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In most families, the wrapped boxes under the tree are the presents everyone expects. Some families do Chris tmas lists, others rely on intuition and observant ears. But some people (especially those who have the love language of 'gifts') might want to do more to bring sur prise and delight to the faces of their families. An ex cellent way to do that is picking out some small items to add to the stockings. Why let Mom and Dad have all the fun?
Under $10 -iTunes Gift Cards -A movie from the discount bin (or previously viewed!) -A used book for everyone in the family (if you get one for everyone, it'll be a fun idea rather than a stingy ge sture! Check out thrift stores, Barnes & Noble/Borders discount tables, or a used book store!) -New earbuds (you'd be surprised how often people need these!) -Paints, brushes, stamps, beads or fabric remnants for the family crafter. -Sheet music for the family musician -Fun baking pans or cookie cutters for the family cook -Fishing lures for the family sportsman. -Nail polish -Lip Gloss -Hair clips -Little notebooks -Lotion (find out favorite scents ahead of time!) -Mini Candles -Candy (find out what everyone's favorites are ahead of time!) -Guitar picks for musicians -Socks (Apparently dads like nice socks.... and sisters like cute ones!)
-Hot Chocolate packs -A pack of cute/fun/funky pens -Magazines -Scarves -Pocket Dictionary (for a student or writer)
Things to Make -Slip some cute beads onto a bobby pin to make a cute hair accessory! -Get a cheap notebook and use paint, glitter, and pictures to tailor it to the recipient! -Buy plain colored t-shirts (craft stores have them cheap) and puff paint and create personalized t-shirts with special quotes or favorite iconic symbols. (If you have a relative who is a Do ctor Who fan, do a Tardis! And Fairy Tale Novel Fans will lo ve anything with roses!) -Coupons for household chores, sister movie nights, or back ma ssages (a favorite with some of my family members!) -Collect recipes from friends and relatives and compile them in to a notebook for the family chef1 -Go online and look up famous quotes, then copy them into a small cute notebook. You can pick themes such as writing, fa mily, love, or just the funny ones! - Compile a mini-photo album of pictures of you and the recip ient.
In Januar y POETRY Who, What and Why
How to Beat the
Procrastination
Monster!
Switzerland: A Girls-eye View
Winter Par ty I de a s ! ...and More!
