The research behind the book

In last month's blog, I mentioned that I had read 38 print books and 47 Kindle books in preparation for writing Xylander. Did I really read 85 books? Well, not all entirely. Some of them I only needed a little information. Others I was able to scan through and find the material specific to what I needed. However, for the most part, yes, I did read the better part of 85 books over a period of six months.

What is more unbelievable is the fact that I have so many more I want to read that are listed in my wish list on Amazon. Currently I have 450 books in my wish list. There are 157 books in that list that are about Native Americans in general, the Osage, the history of either the U.S. or Arkansas, and any others that might give me more insight into the subject in which I am writing. I doubt I will ever read them all in my lifetime, mainly because I keep adding books to the list every week, or I keep getting new Kindle books for $.99, or free, or through Kindle Unlimited.

It seems I can never read enough. I feel sort of like Abe Lincoln; I am educating myself through the various books that I read and the many articles I find on the Internet. Information is everywhere! When I was teaching, I would tell my students that they were so lucky to be in school during this time period. Anything they want to know can be found easily on the Internet. Of course, that also means they find other things that they don't need to know or be filling their minds with. I feel that a teacher has a great responsibility to direct his/her students toward the right information and away from the distractions. Believe me, it is not easy! As for me, I love it that I can look up anything and find the answer almost immediately. Teens don't appreciate the wealth of knowledge.

As I mentioned before in April 11th's blog, I am not an English major and Xylander is my first novel. In preparation for my writing I researched other books that may be out there similar to mine. I didn't want to write a book that had already been written, but of course, since it is partly about my life there can be no other book like mine. But, I wanted to read what was already out there.

I downloaded books that were written with similar agendas: time-travel, Native Americans, frontier life, etc. Gradually, I began to accumulate quite a list of books with similar agendas. However, I really needed to learn about the Osage. I explain in my Author's Notes at the end of my book how I came about writing about the Osage, so I will let you read that on your own. But, when I started researching Native American tribes that could have lived in the area in which I grew up, I was impressed with the Osage the most.

The Osage people are an under appreciated group that have not made their way into fictional writing enough, in my opinion. I found plenty of historical writings, some of which I have read, but more of which I still have to read. Writers have romanticized the Cherokee, the Iroquois, the Comanche, the Arapaho, the Dakota/Lakota, the Mohawk, the Mohicans, to name a few.

Once I decided on the tribe that I would write about, I had to research the time period in which I wanted to put them in. Throughout most of the book Charlotte searches just as I did for what could have happened during the time to be significant and interesting. I didn't need a major dramatic event; I just needed something that I could use to spin off from and create a dramatic story around it.

My own historical events I used in the same way. For whatever reason, the events in that period of my life are still clear in my mind. I could go from month to month and almost week to week and remember almost exactly what was going on in my life back then. It was 26 years ago, but it was a very impressionable time in my life.

Although I have some knowledge of plants and animals and experience from actually living in the area, I had to research plants that would have been used for medicines, what plants they grew and ate, what they hunted, how they made their clothes and houses, tools they used, and even games they played. I cite some actual stories that were told among the Osage. Their religious ceremonies were harder to pinpoint. Many customs are lost due to the fact that many were passed down orally and they were considered so sacred that only those that were ordained as "ministers" knew the words and order of events. 

Then I began finding books on how to write a book. When I first made the decision to try to write a book, I had no idea that Kindle Direct Publishing existed. I imagined that I would write a book and send it out to as many publishing companies I could find in hopes that it would get published. I was so surprised and relieved to find that it was so easy to upload and Wa-La! it's out there.

It's only been six and a half weeks since I first launched my book on Amazon and only a few sales have trickled in here and there, but I keep believing in what I'm doing and maybe one day it will pay off.

The art of writing

They say write what you know and no one can know Charlotte better than me, because it is me!

My very first draft of the first chapter I hand wrote in a spiral notebook. Almost nothing from what I wrote in that notebook made it into the final draft, but it was very good therapy for me. I guess you could say I exercised my demons from the past. I got out all the childish feelings and hurts that I had apparently harbored inside me for almost 25 years.

When I wrote it all out and sat it aside for a day or two, I read back over it. I was struck with how absolutely silly it was. I decided then to grow up and get over it. I focused on the facts and scratched out the petty emotional whining.

Then I got down to the business of writing a story. An interesting phenomenon about writing that I discovered is how sometimes the subconscious writes for you. (I'd prefer to think of it as a guiding spirit or some other ethereal being channeling through me.)

I did write out an outline to some extent. I knew some scenes ahead of time that I wanted to write about. I laid out an Act I, Act II, and Act III of sorts. But when it came to the individual words flowing from my fingers, the words revealed themselves to me in surprising ways.

For instance, I was surprised at Charlotte's bubbly spirit in the beginning. I don't know why I was surprised, really, because that was me back in those days. I was naïve and carefree, just living from day to day not concerned about too far into the future. That free-flowing spirit came back to me in the process of writing, and I was reminded of who I once was.

For the first few weeks of writing, I was absolutely giddy with the discoveries I was making. Unfortunately, I was unable to really talk about it with anyone without spoiling the book for them. I wanted to talk about what a romantic Charlotte was. She had such an idealistic view of the world, especially the past. She loved the nature all around her and because she lived surrounded by trees and small animals she was able to experience nature on a small scale.

Even though she was a carefree teenager, she did appreciate the small things. She did "stop and smell the roses" every chance she got. She observed the wind blowing through the trees and the stillness in the forest. She inhaled the air and admired the colors. She was very observant even when others thought she wasn't paying much attention.

Another unique aspect of the book is the time period for both the lives in which she lives. Charlotte's life starts in 1988-89. This was a time still untainted by cell phones and the internet. (I, however, could have never written this book without the use of the internet. Most especially, Amazon, where I ordered 38 printed books and 47 digital books. More on that topic later.)

I feel like an old foggy when I tell my kids now, "Back in my day we couldn't just text one another constantly and know what was going on with them every single second." It was refreshing, for me at least, to constrain myself to a time when we couldn't just reach for our smartphone and look something up (although I would die without that connection today.) If we got lost in the woods, we had to use the direction of the sun, telephone wires running overhead, or landmarks to find our way home. And sometimes, we got lost. My brothers and a friend of theirs rode their bikes through the trails and came out onto the highway. They asked a man how far it was back to Paragould and he said 12 miles. I think one of them started crying because to them that was a long way on a bike. But in actuality, it wasn't that far because our house was on the edge of the city limit and it was probably no more that 3 miles for them to get back. They made it back somehow without calling mom to come pick them up. And I can't imagine that my mother wasn't at all concerned that she didn't know where they were and hadn't seen them outside for awhile. She must have had a lot of trust that we would show up at home come supper time. There are many more stories like that that I could tell, but I'll save them for later. Today, my kids have to call me from their cell phones at regular intervals to let me know where they are and that they are okay. And if they don't check in on time, I call them.

After I wrote the bulk of the book, I went back over it to fine tune it and edit it. I was reading along and really getting into the story, when I took a step back and said, "This is really good stuff. Who wrote this, oh, I did!" There are some parts to the book that I honestly have no memory of actually writing. I must have really been in the zone. When I read back over it, I couldn't recall having written a certain part or using a particular word. Like I said, it was like spirit channeling.

I smiled as I read each of the individual character's personalities coming out through the story. Some of the characters are based on actual people, especially members of my family. But then others are a combination of people I knew. I couldn't include everyone I knew and interacted with back then. It would be too many for the reader to have to keep up with. I narrowed the characters down to a minimum so the story could be told instead of bogging it down with character analysis. Many names are mentioned as incidental characters and include names of my nieces, nephews, and cousins so they will be immortalized in the book.

Even though I have a master's degree and have written many professional papers, I have never had the opportunity to write prose. I had to really teach myself to be more poetic and descriptive. I was able to write the basic scenes then as I went back over each chapter I added in a sentence or two to elaborate the beauty or the feelings involved. I was amazed at how just a few more words here and there really bolstered the eloquence of the writing.

I have become sort of a reader snob now as well. I deliberately read other books on Kindle to get a feel for how others were writing. I came across several books that I just could not get past the first page or, at most, the first chapter because the subject verb agreements didn't line up or they constantly switched from past to present tense. I'm not an English major; I am a Biology major with a Chemistry minor. My master's degree is in Educational Leadership. So, although I am still a newbie when it comes to writing fiction and prose, I must have enough writing skill to get my thoughts across through words and be able to write clearly enough that others can understand my message. Even though those writers might have had a good story, it was painful to try to read when I was constantly having to make corrections in my head over their English grammar mistakes.

I'll admit, my writing isn't perfect. I may not put all the commas in the right places. But, I hope I have done well enough that any minor mistakes I made won't get in the way of the overall story.

All in all, I fell in love with the act of writing. I have a memory of when I was around the age of six. I went to the half bathroom that was in my parents' bedroom. While in that bathroom, I must have been chatting away at myself. I distinctly remember saying to myself, "I love talking. I could just talk all the time." I was a chatty Cathy for a long time before I learned to keep silent and listen to what others have to say. Now, I'm in love with writing just for the sake of writing. If no one ever reads this, then, well...I've enjoyed myself anyway. Although, I sincerely hope that at least a few people read my writing.  Whether or not they appreciate it, that's okay with me too.

It's out there!

I published my first book via Kindle and Createspace over the weekend. I'm trying to spread the news. So please share with as many as you can. 

It will be available on Kindle Unlimited until July 2nd, then I plan to publish it on Smashwords where it will go out to iBooks, Nook, Oyster, and others world wide. 

Feel free to give me feedback. I'm working on the next in the series, Follow the White Stag: A Spirit Traveler Tragedy. Now is the time to let me know what you would like to see and how I can make it better. 

Happy Reading!

Our Old Home Street

I posted this a few days ago via Notes on my Facebook page, but I wanted to repost it here. I have a couple of beta readers going over the book now and unless they have any major suggested changes it will be published very soon.

I know I keep saying that, and I truly do mean it. This has been a wonderful experience for me and I have enjoyed every minute of it. I am just as anxious (probably more) as you are to get the book out there and see how it does.

So, here is a sneak peek from the first chapter:

Charlotte got a ride home from a friend that afternoon. It was only about a mile from her house to school. In between, was a busy highway that many eighteen-wheelers traveled, so her mother didn’t want her or her brothers walking to or from school. Charlotte couldn’t wait for her sixteenth birthday in a few weeks and then she could drive herself to and from school.

The street she lived on was perfect for kids growing up. The turn off the main highway was at the top of a hill; then it sloped downward to a small valley before climbing to a hill in the center of the street. It then sloped downward a second time to a valley where Charlotte’s family lived before finally ascending to end in a cul-de-sac. It was perfect for riding bikes and skateboards. All throughout the year, the kids that lived on the street played outside after school until sundown. Charlotte and her brothers knew when the street lights came on that was their signal it was time to go in. Otherwise, their mother would cup her hands together and blow a whistle that could be heard a half a mile away, and they would know she was calling them to come home.

When the McAfee’s first moved to the street, it was a gravel road lined with open sewer ditches. The city finally paved it sometime during Charlotte’s fifth grade year, although the open sewers remained for many years after. There were only eight houses built on the street at the time and all, but one, had school age children. The O’Quinn’s lived at the beginning of the street, and they had three daughters, Jenessa, Jennifer, and Molly. In the first valley, lived the Jones’s. They had a swimming pool that many of the kids got to swim in during the summer. Shane, Shawna, and Sheena were the Jones kids. On the middle hill lived the Williams’s with their daughter, Kelly and across from them lived the Rutherfords who had Ronny and Darah. In the second valley, Charlotte and her two brothers, Tad and Ryan, lived across the street from the Montgomery’s and their daughter, Misty. Finally, at the top of the hill at the end of the street and looking out over the whole street itself, lived the McMillan’s with their son, Isaac. Isaac was also a third cousin to the McAfee children. Next to the McMillan’s lived the “Old” Williams’s. They were the grandparents of Kelly and owned most of the undeveloped land and fishing pond further back behind the street.

Charlotte remembered fondly the games they played as children. They played a game called colored eggs that involved all the children sitting in a group with one person standing out in front. The kids were to think in their mind the name of a color. If the person standing in front called out their color, they were to jump up and run around trying not to get tagged before they made it back to their original seat. It was like an alternate version of duck-duck-goose that they also liked to play, along with Red Rover and Freeze Tag. They played hand slapping games while saying rhymes like Miss Mary Mack, Miss Susie, Alice the Camel, Miss Lucy had a baby, and McDonald’s Big Mac. As they got older, they would organize teams to play kickball. They enjoyed playing baseball, basketball, catch 500 with the football, night-time flashlight tag and making huge snowmen in the winter.

Their cousin, Isaac, was a particular trouble maker in their youth. He was into WWE wrestling and would always use Charlotte and her brothers as practice dummies to try out new moves like “the figure four.” He also got Tad and Ryan in trouble on numerous occasions by shooting BB guns and pressuring them into trying cigarettes and chewing tobacco. They enjoyed riding their bicycles along the trails in the woods and going to “the pits.” The pits was a dirt area that had been carved out over time by three-wheelers and dirt motorbikes. It was much like an early version of a skatepark with slopes and ramps to jump and ride over. They would often go to the Williams’s pond and fish even though Mr. Williams said they had to throw anything they caught back in the pond. And on one occasion, Charlotte unwisely rode a horse, courtesy of Jesse Bryson, through the back pasture that was full of holes and rough hills. Looking back on it, she realized what a dangerous act that had been since she knew nothing about horses and how to handle them.

Road Block!

I was sooooo hoping to have the book ready to publish in the coming weeks, but it appears I have more to learn than I thought. Thankfully, I have stumbled across an excellent freelance editor who has put out some great tips and advice on YouTube. From just the little that I have watched and read from her so far, I have a long road ahead still.

I am trying to write, edit, and publish this book on my own without putting too much external cost into as possible. There are many services out on the Internet these days. This editor charges as much as $16 per 1000 words for a line edit. My book has reached 120,000+ words. That would be almost $2000! Yikes!

I've already heard the horrors of trying to publish with a major publishing company. They require the author to sign away their rights, so if the book were to go on to be a major motion picture (HA!), I would have no rights to the content. Self-publishing is definitely the way to go, and, as I am finding out, it is probably the easiest part of this whole process.

Just writing the content of my novel was grueling enough, now I have to go back over it with a fine tooth comb and check for tense errors, voice, telling v. showing, weak scenes, etc. No wonder editors charge such high fees. But apparently, their services are worth it.

For now, I'm going to try to edit my work per her advice as much on my own as I possibly can. Then, if I feel like I need her professional services I will have to bite the bullet and seek her help. Until then, it is plow on! But, hey, I'm having fun, right?

Xylander: A Spirit Traveler Beginning: What's it about?

Xylander: A Spirit Traveler Beginning: What's it about?: So, while we are still waiting on the finishing touches of my book, let me give you a synopsis.  Charlotte is a typical teenager growing up ...

What's it about?

So, while we are still waiting on the finishing touches of my book, let me give you a synopsis.  Charlotte is a typical teenager growing up in northeast Arkansas. She loves the outdoors and is a hopeless romantic when it comes to imaging what life must have been like in the past. She is particularly interested in the Indians who might have lived where she now lives before white people moved in.

Indigo is also a teenager in the Osage tribe living in the early 1800s. But, unlike Charlotte, she is expected to get married and start a family at her age. She is in love with her husband-to-be and looks forward to having children with him.

The story goes back and forth between Charlotte and Indigo describing their everyday life. Their individual lives have many similarities as well as some stark differences. Both girls are part of a rich culture that is steeped in their traditions.

But with every story, there is trouble. I can't wait for you to read and find out about their lives and see how they handle adversity and danger. I hope it is a beginning of a series that we will all come to love and enjoy.