March 2024 Story Sparks

When I was in High School in Mondovi, Wisconsin, I wrote a column for our school newsletter called “All in the Game with Jane.” It was my first foray into fiction (except for a terrible short story about being lost in Alaska where I’d never been, written in the third grade. I also wrote a play about George Washington that was performed by third graders at the Naples School but that story is for another day.) My high school column took on actual questions from fellow students but if it was a slow week, I made up questions — hence, the fiction. My efforts preceded a first career in counseling where the questions were more complicated and next steps less certain than at the end of my pen. And it was a journey into writing of a world I created.

I’ve continued to be entranced by advice columns: Dear Abby and others including the NY Times “Ask the Ethicist” are two. I’m not sure what it is about those poignant, sometimes funny always intriguing letters that attracts me so. Maybe it’s the exceptional editing that presents a letter likely quite condensed along with an answer equally frugal. Perhaps it’s that the letters are a snapshot of what real people struggle with and help put my own issues into perspective. “At least I’m not dealing with that sort of problem.” Maybe they serve as life-lessons for me, what not to do should a friend behave poorly or heaven forbid, I do! Maybe reading those columns is akin to eavesdropping at the restaurant capturing a potential dialogue for my next novel weaving fact and fiction.

I suspect though, that it is the hope I see in those letters. Their world is troubled but with courage they reach out seeking suggestions for taking the next steps to make it better.

If they wrote to “All in the Game with Jane” I might remind them not to let the troubles guide their lives.“That doesn’t sound like a healthy relationship,” Dear Abby has said. “Time to find a therapist and if your partner won’t go with you, go yourself.” Writer Stephanie Mickus wrote “Hope springs eternal.” It’s also the name of a film; a fiction. I think it’s a truth. I’ll keep seeking evidence of it in advice columns and in precious letters from my readers who find hope within my stories.

Women in History

This is women in history month, my favorite! Those intrepid, remarkable, courageous, risk-taking women get an entire month to be remembered. Wow! Of course in my world, their fortitude is remembered much longer than for a month. When I’m asked where I get my story ideas I say from reading — footnotes, author notes, family members. But something about them has to generate an unanswered question like “How did she do that?” Or “Why did she do that?” Are two big ones. I never know how the story will affect me though I anticipate being enlightened. Eliza Spaulding Warren’s story The Memory Weaver taught me about the power of memory in our lives. Hulda Klager Where Lilacs Still Bloom gave me confidence to tell a story of a self-taught hybridizer who hybridized 250 individual lilacs in her lifetime. My experience with plants is that when they see me coming in a nursery they wilt so I won’t buy them and give them a slow death at home. It might have been how the community rescued Hulda but also how the community tending that amazing garden kept me from terrible mistakes I would otherwise have made. Every single one of the women I’ve been privileged to write about has deepened my faith and given me resource for my daily struggles. The stories of Jane Shear A Sweetness to the Soul; Letitia Carson A Light in the Wilderness; Jesse Gaebel A Flickering Light; Abigail Scott Duniway Something Worth Doing, Marie Dorion A Name of her Own; Natalie Curtis The Healing of Natalie Curtis, and all the others, have touched many lives as you have told me. These women have inspired art events, school name changes, university archeological digs, statues and poems. Yet it is the two newest members of my own family — both baby girls — that I celebrate the most this month. They are future women in history who will surprise us with their stamina, grace, hope and wit as all women do if we hear their stories. One great niece — after some surprising birthing challenges — was given the middle name of Fierce. I love that! May we recognize all those fierce women in our histories, maybe even write a paragraph about them to leave behind to inspire the next generation. We can make women in history month go on forever….

An Amuse-Buche of News

month I learned a new word Amuse-Bouche. It’s French for “mouth amuser” and means a small bite-sized hors d’oeuvres served before a meal. It’s also the title of a beautiful book of coastal-inspired poems and images by Dana Huneke-Stone with a subtitle “A Taste of Melancholy.” Sticks and Stones Press. Instagram @stormyday12. The book was a birthday gift and after I looked up the meaning of the title, I found the word everywhere. A comedian said his opening lines were an amuse-bouche. In a novel I’m reading, the hostess served it but it was also a metaphor for the beginnings of something delightful that is also meaningful by itself. That’s how I’m using it at the moment. Here are some Amuse-Bouche to delight your day.

A library in Worcester, Mass. told patrons who had lost books or failed to return them that all would be forgiven if they provided the library with a picture of a cat. Over 400 people have had their library accounts unblocked, a fur-midable number in a city of 200,000, and a wonderfully inventive way to grant forgiveness.

In October, I’ll receive a life-time Achievement Award from the Will Rogers Medallion Awards in Fort Worth, TX. It is both a humbling and surprising recognition. Five of my stories about remarkable women in history have been honored by the Foundation. My editor reminded me that I’m still writing so my lifetime isn’t over yet. Last year’s recipient was Longmire famed author Craig Johnson. Here’s the link to the press release. If you’re in the area…. Join me.

Despite Santa Ana winds that got up to 80 mph in our California valley, the hummingbirds have hatched! Palm fronds and patio chairs, lemons and grapefruit swirled about but the nest so well chosen stayed firm. New little “flying jewels” (as early explorers called them) appeared yesterday. In author Brian Doyle’s essay “Joyas Voladoras” the hummingbird is a metaphor for love and as one reviewer noted for the “fierceness of life hummingbirds embody” in their tiny beating hearts.

I have written “The End” on my work in progress. Hurrah! Of course, it’s never really the end. Now the editing begins on the first of three coastal books titled the “Cannon Beach Series.” Mary Gerittse, an early mail carrier on the Oregon Coast, and a beloved historical woman, is the anchor to this series. The first book — title still in transition — will be out sometime in early summer of 2025. I’ll keep you all posted!

The writing program I use for my nascent screen-play ventures is called “Final Draft” and I laugh because I don’t think there’ll ever be a final draft of “The Healing of Natalie Curtis.” But with my collaborator Jean Christen who knows film producing and screenwriting and who first suggested I could write a screenplay, we have captured a prominent director’s interest along with a composer, a couple of studio heads who are saying kind things if not yet committing to production. Its all pretty exciting. The Homestead update: at a standstill for the moment, They have two more years to produce. And the story of Tabitha Moffat Brown, the Mother of Oregon, has piqued the interest of a television series producer. My collaborator asks, “Would you like to try writing the pilot?”

Word Whisperings

No Perfect Mothers
by Karen Spears Zacharias
Mercy University Press (March 5, 2024)

I have not had the privilege of reading Karen’s latest book yet but I know about her work. As a journalist, she’s a relentless researcher and as a novelist, she evokes pathos for her subjects some of whom have made despicable decisions. This story is about a young woman in history for whom despicable decisions were made for her. Bad things happened to Carrie Buck in 1927. Karen’s recent article in Salon.com does some comparisons between recent IVF decisions with what happened to Carrie. No Perfect Mothers is likely to be an intense read but Karen knows how to move us which is the mission of fiction.

Tom Lake
by Ann Patchetty Ann Patchett
Harper, 2023.

One of my favorite bookstores, Sunriver Books and Music in Sunriver, OR sent me an ARC of this latest book by award-winning author Ann Patchett. An ARC is an “approved reader copy” publishers put out and give to bookstores and reviewers to create interest. They aren’t to be sold (though I’ve seen some of mine for sale on Amazon and contacted one seller. A story for another day.) There can be small mistakes and changes from the published novel in an ARC. I gave the ARC to a friend who started to read it but told me she found the story of a woman’s summer on Tom Lake in upper Michigan slow moving so she gave it back. I told a Wisconsin friend (who once lived in the UP) that I had it and she commented on how much she loved Ann’s work. I sent it to her. She gobbled it up. Books we love we want to share so she had a copy sent to me. I loved it! It’s a wonderful story of a woman who was an actress in summer theater telling her three adult daughters the story while they harvest cherries and later pears on their orchard in Michigan. Singular images, funny moments, distinctive characters and beautiful images of lakes and trees and a woman’s coming of age at their edges. I’ve since passed the book on to a friend here in California with the hope she’ll pass it along as well. Ann owns Parnassus Books in Nashville, TN but this book is all midwest. Oh, and California for a bit and oh yes, some of New York, too. It’s a delight.

Our Hopes

I saw the car approach down Bing Crosby Road and as is my custom when walking Rupert, I stepped to the side and stopped. Rupie complied and immediately sat. We waited for the car to pass. Instead the driver slowed then stopped. She rolled the window down. She had coal black hair, bright red lipstick and a whimsical purple ceramic daisy behind her ear. I mean it was barely 7:00am and she already had her face on ready for a party. With a big smile she said, “Are you going to vote today?” It was Super Tuesday and Californians had a number of candidates plus issues on the ballot.

“Oh, I would but I’m not a California resident. Will you vote?”
‘Absolutely!”
“I’ll vote in May back in Oregon,” I said.

She pivoted to Rupie and how good he was sitting so still. Then she waved and drove off. Neither of us expressed who we might vote for or said anything else about the current political climate. What I loved was that she was as enthusiastic about exercising the right to vote as a first time nominee to the Oscars would be. It was her joy at doing something many people around the world don’t get to do: Make a difference through their votes. I hope her hopefulness stay with me and I share that intention with you.

This drawing is by Anja Rosen. A 13-year-old primary school student in Slovenia. She was chosen from 600,000 children around the world asked to create a piece of art to show what peace looks like. She is the winner of the International Plakat Miru competition. “My drawing represents the land that binds us and unites us,” she wrote. “Humans are woven together. If someone gives up, others fall. We are connected to our planet and to each other, but unfortunately we are little aware of it. We are woven together. Other people weave alongside my own story; and I weave theirs,” said the young designer. This is a sign of hope.

I leave you with this poem of Dana Hunke-Stone from her book Amuse-Bouche

Walking Papers
Further, each day.
Anointed with spray.
Holy water.
Wayward daughter.
For sky. For stones.
For strength in my bones.”Salted air.
Walking is prayer.

Stay hopeful. See you in April,

P.S. I often get requests from those wishing a book list of my titles. Incidentally, Wikipedia has some errors. Visit my Bibliography webpage for the real scoop.