Tuesday, May 24, 2011

My story begins

I am not one who can sit at a computer with a blank screen in front of me so I write in a little notebook and over time have begun to type it up. But I am also not one to edit so forgive me for lack of commas but please let me kow if you see anything I need to fix. Most of my writting is free flowing though often when typing it I do make minor correction or additions.




Hope you like it

I have written more but I wanted to share what I typed up last week...





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Pine Haven could hardly be distinguished from all the little New England villages in the vicinity. It boasted about how it was founded shortly before the Revolution and had many of its brave sons fight in that war and every war that followed. The new church was built in 1809 after the old church burnt down and its steeple stood proudly amongst the village built around it. At the other end of main street was was the school house built in 1850 with a green park around it. And that was the town of Pine Haven. Not very big but it boasted itself on not being changed by industry.

It is here where Arthur Danford brought his young bride Cornelia Danford in the summer of 1869 to escape the bustle of the growing Boston city. They had been married a year and Cornelia was expecting their first child and Arthur’s wedding present was finally done. It was built in an almost Gothic style with high pointed roofs and little gargoyles that protected the home. The house stood majestically as it was the largest house the residents of Pine haven had ever seen. Cornelia insisted it have the finest gardens in the county. Though Arthur hated to ruin the great beauty of the simple woods that surrounded his home he did want to please his wife. But Arthur did love his woods and when Cornelia was in labor the servants knew exactly where to find him, his woods in the spot where the little creek dipped into the property. It was a happy day when Charles Arthur Danford was born and it was another happy day when three years later when Fiona Rose Danford was born. Here in Pine Haven the Danfords had some of their best times spending the short New England summers here. But it would also be a sad summer day nearly twenty-five years later that Arthur Danford walking through his woods suffered some heart problems and dies before a doctor could be fetched. After that Cornelia didn’t want to return to the city she liked being where she could feel Arthur’s presence the most. Cornelia made sure his grave site was always kept clean even during snow storms and always had fresh flowers from her green house. She also made sure they buried Arthur in a little gated area in the back gardens near the woods so he could always be a little bit in his world and a little bit in hers. After Arthur’s death the Danford’s great house shut down, the east wing was completely closed off, servants came and went but no one from the outside saw the grand beauty and tender love the Danfords put into their home for quite some time.

Not until six or seven years later when Fiona returned home with her three little girls did any one dare ring the door bell. It was raining that day and the girls were soaked through when Miss Pembers opened the front door. The eldest Laurel then nearly ten tried to her hold her head up acting not bothered by the rain, Emmy the next eldest tried to copy her older sister but was obviously miserable and the youngest Gloria almost two at the time clutched her mother’s leg wishing she could be held but her mother had two large large suitcases and the older girls had suitcases as well. It was obvious to Miss Pembers that Fiona was not making an unexpected visit and the next day all of Pine Haven buzzed about Fiona’s return. For most of Pine Haven remembered what scandal it had been when Fiona Rose, the only daughter of the Danford fortune had run off and married Jefferson Cromwell. She had completely cut off with out a cent and no communication between her and the family had happened since that day until Arthur’s death and even then she was not welcomed at the funeral. So to have Fiona standing at the door was quite a shock for the household and the town.

It all began in the early summer of 1889 two or three day after Fiona turned seventeen. She has finished schooling at Miss Dobson’s school for girls being refined in homemaking, etiquette, French and English literature all the subjects thought best for a woman’s mind. She considered a scholar in her school for enjoying her classes on art history and Shakespeare. She was also a highly accomplished student receiving high honors at her graduation and everyone at Dobson loved her as she was very mild tempered and always had a smile that lighted the room. Cornelia only thought it proper that Fiona be out in society to find a good



match in a proper husband.

Of course to be entirely honest Cornelia had long hoped Fiona’s eyes would settle on Alfred Dumont. He came from a long line of money, his family was actually of royal blood before the French Revolution and they fled to America. Here they continued their wealth investing in cotton and the textiles but Alfred’s father had made a huge leap investing in railroads causing their wealth to surge to new heights. It would have been a great match and Cornelia had thought and hoped that Fiona could be persuaded. Alfred had been obvious in his attentions to her last summer when he came to visit with Charles and even over her winter break he let it be known to Arthur and Cornelia he intended to propose but he knew Fiona was still young and things had to go in proper order.

Fiona didn’t have her mind quite yet on settling down. She still wanted to see so much of the world. For the most part all she had known was Boston, Pine Haven Miss Dobson’s and brief visits to New York. She wanted to see the art she had been studying in real life and wanted to use her French that she had become proficient at. The world was too large and she wanted to see as much of it as she could. That is until she met Jefferson Cromwell at her presentation into society.

It had been a normal May the trees were in full bloom and in the morning there was still a hint of frost in the morning. But like most New England Mays the week before Memorial Day the weather changed to a glorious warmth from sunrise to sunset letting the residents know winter was finally behind them and the sun was here to stay. It was the kind of weather that let people know a fresh start was among them and the feeling that anything could happen was amongst them. Had Cornelia not been so busy in the details of her daughters presentation she would have taken warning in the warm sparks of weather.

The Danfords had come to Pine Haven earlier than usual to prepare for their daughter’s ball and it seemed everyone in Pine Haven buzzed over the details of the dress, the guest list that included the best names from Washington D.C. to Boston society, and everyone waited anxiously to see Fiona’s name and portrait in the society pages. Cornelia Danford had made sure it was in all the best papers in the country from east coast to west coast. She had made sure every one in country knew how grand and lavish their wealth had been.

In all the preparation Cornelia barely noticed that Charles had come home with Alfred Dumont and his friend Jefferson Cromwell. Charles had planned for his friend Jefferson to be an escort for Fiona’s friend Iris Mitchell. But she had noticed the way Jefferson looked at Fiona when she stood on the stair case in her ivory cream dress with a tight bodice and a train the flowed at least feet behind her. While Cornelia would have picked out a more elaborate style Fiona felt the subtle beauty of the dress was more pleasing. Everyone thought Fiona was as pretty as an angel and some even noticed how her golden auburn hair looked like a regal crown. Cornelia had never felt prouder of her daughter than she did right then but as she looked around the smiling faces she notices the glimmer in Jefferson’s eyes.

Fortunately Fiona was safe for the first two dances the first being with her brother and the next one with Alfred but by the third Fiona was in Jefferson’s arms.

“Charles, what have you done?”Cornelia pulled him aside.
“What do you mean?”
“Bringing Jefferson Cromwell to the party. Do you see the way her looks at your sister?”
“I can’t be blamed. Fiona begged me to bring a friend to escort her friend Iris Mitchell.”
“Then shouldn't he be dancing with Iris and not your sister.”
“You did a good job at making her the bell of the ball.”
“She is suppose to be with Dumont not with Cromwell.”
“Well then it looks like Dumont has competition,” Charles gave a joking smile to his mother.
“Do not joke Charles. Your friend Jefferson Cromwell could ruin everything your father and I planned for your sister.”

Little did Cornelia know it was was too late. In two dances Fiona had grown fonder of Jefferson Cromwell then she had any man. He a wide range of interest but instead of telling her what to like and feel as most men had he asked for her opinion. Also Fiona had no problem conversing with Jefferson as she stumbled over her words with others. Fiona could tell had a romantic and adventurous spirit with in him and a smile that made her almost weak in the knees. And half way through the second dance Fiona started to see her future in his sparkling grey eyes. They could explore the whole world together and enjoy the best things in life together. After the two dances Arthur cut in in and Jefferson disappeared into the crowd.







For more click here

Monday, May 23, 2011

Newly 25

Hello,

A few days a go was my 25th birthday. A big birthday I guess, or at least that's what people said. Of course some of my friends are older and they told me this was the last big one before 30. I don't know if this was my last big one I love my birthday and getting a lot of my friends to celebrate and have fun together. Friends from my college days, my church, and others all came out to celebrate and it was perfect I thought. We had Pizza at California Pizza Kitchen and then went out to do Karaoke. Where I and a few of my brave friends attempted to sing Telephone by Lady Gaga, Baby by Justin Beiber and Wannabe by the Spice Girls. It was lots of fun! And I loved all my friends for cheering me on.

Over dinner I was asked what I would like to do by my next birthday. I said I would like to be a full time student. As some of you know I am currently working full time and going to school part time and while that was good I think I'd rather get my masters done so I can work in the library field I want to work in not just calling my self a wanna be librarian. I also said I didn't want to sail around the world in lawn chair and little boat. While I do wish I could travel more I know with school and fiances that's not always possible. I have been thinking also lately I would like to write more.

I do have some down time at work and I usually spend that time on Facebook... not usually doing what I want to do and that is writing. I have countless stories all running through my head. But most of them never get out of my head on and on to paper. And as you can probably tell I am not a published author so even if I write them out. I never finish them. I don't want to get side tracked a lot. Also when I was in school this last semester my brain got fried. But I do need some mental release and that's when I escape into the world of my stories. So any way I would like to give 20 minutes of writing every day, which isn't that much but I have to at least keep writing.

The story I have most going through my mind is kind of a Sense and Sensibility story. Only it takes place in the early 20th century about a mother and her 3 daughters (the older 2 are the main characters) but they live in their Grandmother's house because after the death of their father they are poor. The story is mostly told through Emmy's eyes. She is the second daughter and longs for adventure more than anything and hates the confines of her world. Then Laurel is painted as this modest young woman who is very gentle and though the beauty of the town, Pine Haven, her modesty cast her rather plainly. She also feels a great burden to marry well so she can pull her family out of its humble standings. The action of the story begins when their cousins the well to do Danfords come to visit, Marcus and Julia and their friend Ethan Foster. Ethan is college mates of Marcus from England and has a summer position in New York but before the position begins he spends a few weeks with the Danfords. Also Marcus is recently engaged to Kathryn James. But he knows to continue his inheritance he must get approval of his Grandmother Cornelia. She demands to meet Kathryn. Kathryn brings along her eldest brother Brandon James and then the next brother Caleb joins them after a few weeks. By that time Ethan has gone off to New York every one thinks he will be back shortly and propose to Laurel but she does not encourage such comments. Julia has long loved Caleb and hopes that as soon as her brother and his sister are married she will be married to Caleb. But Caleb falls for Laurel when he tells this Julia she says that Laurel will soon be engaged to Ethan Foster. Caleb says that's impossible as Ethan has long been engaged to Sally Lawrence, secretly of course. In the background of all this Brandon James has fallen for Emmy but no one but her mother sees it because Brandon is at least 10 years older than her. That's mostly what I got figured out right now but I think there is going to be some more action in Boston at Marcus and Kathryn's wedding and also a twist at the end when Grandma Cornelia dies.

I imagine my characters living in this grand house and even though its beautiful it is also so grand it looks a little suffocating at least to Emmy.



Because of the constraint of her grandma's house Emmy spends a lot of time in the woods by her house.

















Friday, March 25, 2011

Having a bad moment at work... and to get my mind off of it I have come here and will write.

A little free write....
It is the beginning of spring everyone hoped that soon flowers would be blooming and they would be able to put away the winter coats that had burdened them for so long. But it was only the beginning of spring and everyone in New England knew that meant that they still might have one large snow storm ahead of them. The word snow had now become a curse word for Emmy Gregg and she rather live in a delusional world of daffodils and picnics in the gardens then having to deal with the still cold weather that gave her shivers when she walked home from Miss. Cole's millinery. She buttoned her last button cutting off air to her throat, wrapped her paisley scarf around her neck and wished her goodbyes to Betsy and Madeline. She was happy that she got to go home early today and still got the last few rays of sun but she dreaded what waited for her at home.

Mother was waiting for her at home with Mr. Simpson and Emmy knew tonight was the night he was going to prepose. Everyone in the neighborhood whispered as she walked by, a few young girls were brave enough to say "congradulations" as passed them but no one saw the sad heart that beat inside Emmy as she dreaded the idea of marrying Mr. Simpson, a man nearly twice her age, stout in figure and boring in looks. But she would have to say yes, mother would make sure of it. She would have to say yes and soon they would marry and she would be Mrs. Simpson of Commonwealth Avenue the young bride of Mr. Simpson. She would be expected to have three strapping boys and maybe a girl she could spoil and she would attend fine tea parties and maybe a Christmas ball but her life would be fairly routine and posivitely dreadful. But she was the only one who saw the negativity of it all, everyone else of Porter street saw this as a fine match.

Mr. Edward Simpson, born on Porter Street with eight brothers and sisters in an apartment no larger than a hat box. He was the only one to make it out of the dwellings. His parents and three sisters died of a terrible fever that had plagued the city one summer. His youngest sister, was taken away by his aunt to the country and he never saw her again. His eldest brother took off to be a ship hand with a penny to his name and died in the Boer War on the side of the British. The two others died in a drunken brawl. Though Mr. Simpson hardly acknowledged his roots he did give his money to the charitable causes that tried to help the poor of his old neighborhood and gave his membership to the Porter Street Methodist Church. He came every sunday in his fancy automobile and caught all the eyes of the mothers who wished their daughters to marry a fine off man such as Mr. Simpson.

It was on an ordinary Sunday that Emmy met Mr. Simpson. She had known who he was most of her life, he had the best pew in the church that he had paid a pretty penny for. Her father had thought it wasn't right for people to have pay for pews in church and therefore their family had sat up in the balcony. Also Mr. Simpson was the golden statue for the Porter Street neighborhood, every one hoped one day that they too would be able to make something of themselves and get out of the neighborhood and live in a house in the Back Bay. Mr. Simpson owned the most successful mercantile in the South End and soon he had a little chains of merchantiles through out Boston and one in Cambridge. Also Mr. Simpson could not be mistaken in his fine tailored suits and customed trimmed hats. So though Emmy had known Mr. Simpson most of her life it wasn't until the fateful Sunday that that the church held a little social for the newest missionary coming back from Asia and Emmy spilled punch on Mr. Simpson. At first Mr. Simpson was mad and mother apologized profusely for her daughter's horrible behavior. But then Mr. Simpson caught the glimpse of her soft blue eyes, amber golden hair, and fine looks that he calmed himself down and said to her mother's relief everything was all right.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

My sister called me out

My sister who has now become a blogger, chatting about the daily works of her family (that I love to read) called me out for not writing much.
" I know," I said with a sigh. "I don't have time to write besides school papers."
Believe me they would not be fun to read. But I read blogs. Sometimes I get to work earlier than I would like and before I am ready to answer all my emails, I sit with my travel mug of coffee and read blogs. But my sister is right I don't blog much... but as my blog is titled "A journey through writing" this would be the low period of my writing.

I do imagine characters all the time though.

I have a wonderful little dialogues in my head of a librarian, no surprise, since that's what I am going to school for, digging through the of her library vaults and discovering letters from the 19th century (my passion in history). These letters might be from some one famous that everyone has heard of but no one knows her true history because these letters or maybe a diary has been hidden for 100s of years. Or maybe its a no one just a woman who seems to have a simple life (but there always has to be a secret). I don't have it all figured out yet.

What I have been doing with my time is....
http://womenmovement.wikispaces.com/
It is a path finder or resource finder as project for my reference library class. In it I am suppose to be helping a student/ information seeker that is looking for information on a certain topic. I have done my path finder on the Women's Rights movement of the 19th century (something that has always intrigued me).

Also for my history research paper I am doing my paper on a mostly unknown woman who was an abolitionist and a women's rights leader, Abigail Kelley Foster AKA Abby Kelley. I am finding her life quite fascinating.

What I am also loving about both my path finder and Abby Kelley is that these are women that pushed the mold of what a woman should be. Back in the 19th century the ideal woman was expected to stay completely in the "home sphere" and the women that pushed these boundaries I have loved to explore into their lives. Though I do often explain to people I am 19th century feminist not a 20th century feminist (for many reasons). But what I have loved doing about these projects is they have inspired my story ideas.

So Hunter, I will try to write more.