Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Dwelling in the Past

Hello Lovely Readers,

I love to dwell in historical fiction in most everything in my reading, the TV shows and movies I watch, and my own personal writing. I am personally still a romantic about history and probably idealize it too much even though I studied history I know it is not clean cut and glamorous as I wished it was. One time I hear a quote "we study the past to know how we got here" (sorry paraphrasing so might be a misquote) and I think it is accurate. I like studying the past to know the struggles, the battles and the times of glory and hope people went through to get where we are now. Even though the stories I read are set in the past, if the book is written well, I feel I can relate to them and I wonder what I would do if I was in that circumstance?-- I know you can do this with really any genre of literature but there is something about historical fiction in that pulls me in.
I think I owe my love to early 20th century upon seeing Biltmore.
For my own writing there is a comfort in knowing the outcome. For example: In my story I am currently writing it is about WWI and I know what happens and I know who is going to win the War. But then there is this weird comfort in not controlling the outcome. I know what is going to happen in the grand scheme of things and I just put my characters in those events and seeing what happens to them and how they are changed by their circumstances.

My love of WWI might be owed to Downton Abbey
As I stated I am currently working on a story that will go through WWI. And while I studied early 20th century history in school I know vague details about WWI. I have read various novels, biographies and other non-fiction books and I sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the amount of information I am learning. I felt so overwhelmed I thought "maybe I should put this story aside while I research." But then I thought "I am never going to know enough to be completely accurate." This is true of all historians... we take the sources we have and as best we can we put a narrative. However, the thing about history is that unless we build a time machine we will never get the full story, which give historians and writers some freedom. So when I saw this post on Pinterest I was highly intrigued:

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And I felt it was okay for me not to know everything about WWI, that doesn't mean I can't attempt to write a fabulous story. So I will keep pressing on through my first draft. If I find out anything interesting I will keep you updated.

Monday, June 22, 2015

I am not a photographer

Hello lovely readers,
As I posted last week I took some time off to visit some family and meet my newest nephew and I planned to take lots of photos but I came back with only a handful of photos... so I have come to the conclusion I am not a photographer. So sorry there are not many photos of my trip but here is a glimpse of my time back home.
The main reason I took this trip was to meet my newest nephew... even though it was mid-June in Houston. This is my first time holding him.

This is my niece and I doing arts and crafts together... really drawing dresses.
I could do this for hours with her.
  
On our road trip making a stop at Buc-ee's.
Only in Texas do you see a gas station as big as most grocery stores.
We did get in a visit to the zoo but I can not even take credit for this photo as my dad took it.
Niece and sister are the only ones looking at camera. I am looking at my nephew.
Oh yeah and that is a lion in the background.

See not many photos... but at least I got some great time being Aunt Blaire which is the best memories I can have. Hope you have a good Monday. 

Friday, June 19, 2015

Words of hope...Not so Frivolous Friday

Hello lovely Readers,

I am sorry I don't have a "Frivolous Friday" post for you with things going on in Charleston, SC and other things happening "Frivolous Friday" was kind of trivial. Then I remembered "Frivolous Friday" was meant to post whatever what I wanted. Here are some lovely words of inspiration and messages of hope:









Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Author Happiness... 40,000 words

Hello Lovely Readers,

I know I have shared this before so forgive me for repeating myself.

The way I do my creative writing is by writing by hand and then transcribing it into Word. I know this takes awhile for it all to get gone, but I am okay with that, and to be honest I like it. My stories are historical fiction and something about typing on a keyboard feels like a disconnect from the way my characters would actually write.

Also (minus this blog) I don't usually feel inspired when looking at a blank word document with that little bar | flashing at me. So I have to write by hand. But I do enjoy going back and typing up my story when I get stuck in my writing and I don't know how to move the story forward. Sometimes just typing it up gives me inspiration. I think inspiration comes the more and more time I spend with my characters.

Any way, as I have written about I am feeling stuck in my writing so I am taking some time to type up my story. Well I have reached a little mile stone of 40,000 word, which is 83 pages typed up. In celebration I wanted to share the passage that brought me to this point...


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kelby Foster had been out for a walk. He had not meant to head towards Southerton Greens. He was lost in his own thoughts and his feet lead him there. He stopped  when he noticed Mattie, he could not help but notice her even at distance she was beautiful. He observed she was on a bicycle, which he had never seen before and she seemed to be struggling on it. Then now knowing how she had been flipped from the bicycle, flying over the handle bars and crashing into the railing of the fence. Kelby sprinted over to her.  She looked so helpless and almost lifeless.

            "Oh Miss Mattie, my Mattie, my dearest Mattie," he called out to  her. "Are you hurt? Can you move? Miss Mattie, Miss Mathilda please be all right."

            Then she fluttered her eyelashes when he called out her name but just as quickly fainted again. He thought he heard her whisper his name . Without thinking he gently kissed her on the lips. He then swept her up and trying to keep her as still as possible laying her between his arms.

            The next thing she remembered was waking up in her room with Dr. Gibson looking down at her. He was speaking to her but at first she could not understand what he was saying. Everything was hazy and the words were muffled. Mattie tried to sit up but Dr. Gibson gently but firmly kept her flat.

            "That is not a good idea Miss Mathilda. Do you know where you are?" Dr. Gibson asked.

            Mattie paused for a moment as she tried to understand all the words he had said. "Yes in my room." She swallowed as the words were hard to say. "How did I get here?"

            Mattie could only slightly see the rest of her body but she could see her arm was in a sling. She felt a gashing pain on her forehead and with her good hand she felt the bandage on her head.

            "Miss Mathilda please remain still."

            "How did I get here?" Mattie asked again.

            "That stable boy of Lady Welford's brought you here."

            "Kelby?"

            "I believe so and you are very lucky, you were so far off the path you might not have been found for hours."

            "And Kelby found me?"

            "Yes Miss Mathilda. I think you should rest now."

            How could she rest she thought that was so much pain her whole body ached. Her arm and her head most of all felt as if they had been broken in half. Everything was searing as though it had been touched with fired.

            "Doctor," she mumbled as he left the room.

            Mattie closed her eyes maybe if she slept she wouldn't feel the pain. Within in no time she was back asleep. She wasn't for sure how long she slept but felt like a day passed by when she awoke. She dreamt that she woke up and found Kelby sitting in the chair next to the bed. He was folded over in half with his head on the comforter next to her. When she stirred he woke and smiled at her. His eyes were the perfect shade of sparkling silver.  


Thanks for reading.