The results are in for a short story I entered this summer in White County Creative Writers Contests at Searcy, Arkansas. I was awarded sixth place for a version of the story I received second place for in an earlier contest. This time the story could only be 1500 words. That meant I had to do some drastic cutting and at the same time keep the basic story in tact. I managed to do just that, but I like the longer version better so that is my post for today. This story takes place during the Depression in the 1930's.
The Unexpected Visitor
The two room cabin Rachel Archer rented wasn't air tight, but it beat sleeping out in the open with the migrants. Sitting at her kitchen table drinking a second cup of morning coffee, she watched the freight trains slow down at the road crossing. Four men jumped on the flat cars and six leaped off. It was an ever day occurrence these days. Homeless and jobless men headed west, looking for work. The men disembarking were on their way back home after finding out there weren't any jobs to be had. At night, the red and gold glimmer of a dozen or so campfires glowed in the timber near the cabin. Most days, at least a couple poorly dressed, unbathed men, looking half starved, knocked at the back door, expecting her to give them a handout.
Rachel picked the three folded sheets of tablet paper up off the table and reread them. Last week, the letter came from a fellow teacher, Mary Winters. Rachel hadn't seen her for over a year when they spent a term teaching at the same school seventy-five miles away. She was delighted Mary was coming for a visit. In fact, her friend be arriving any minute.
Looking around the cabin, Rachel anxiously wondered what Mary would think of this place she called home. No matter what condition it was in or how cramped she was for room, Rachel considered herself lucky to have a place to live. The alternative was staying at a student's home. This way she had privacy, and the door locked so she felt safe at night.
If only she could stop the nightly noises that kept her awake. Lately, the irritating gnawing under the kitchen floor had given her nights of disturbed sleep. What she heard had to be a rat. No mouse would be big enough to make that much racket. Suddenly a horrible thought came to her. What if that rat made his way through the wooden floor while her company was visiting? How embarrassing that would be.
Mid morning, Mary Winters knocked on the cabin door. Rachel greeted her with a hug. "Come in. It is so good to see you."
"I couldn't wait to get here. I've missed our talks this last year," Mary said, returning Rachel's hug.
"Me, too. Sit down at the table. I've kept the coffee pot on so we could have a cup when you got here. I expect you are about wore out from the trip."
"Not really, but the roads make for rough riding with all the pot holes and ruts. I thought that poor truck I hitched a ride on was going to fall apart before the farmer got me here," Mary said, laughing. As she sat down, she looked around the combined kitchen-living room.
"Not the biggest of home, but big enough for me. Beats bunking with one of the students," Rachel assured her. "I wouldn't have a bit of privacy, and another family's home life is so hard to get used to for me and them."
"I know that feeling. I spent the last term with a family of six kids. That might not be so bad, but the father made me nervous. I didn't like the way he watched me all the time."
"Did he think you might steal something?"
"I don't think that was his problem. I just made sure to never be alone with him," Mary admitted, ducking her head bashfully.
"You must get out of there. You are applying for a different school for this fall, aren't you?" Rachel asked, appalled at what her friend had been going through.
"Already got a different school close by as a matter of fact so we can visit more often," said Mary, grinning.
"Wonderful!"
A train, traveling east, blew its whistle as it approached the crossing. Mary watched out the window with a frown. The freight train slowed down. Men jumped from the box cars and ran into the trees. "Did you have a good year here at the school?" Mary kept a troubled look as her eyes stayed glued to what was happening out the window.
"Yes, I had a nice size bunch of kids. Sometimes I wish I lived somewhere that didn't get as much snow in the winter. I hate being snowed in for days on end," Rachel admitted.
"I know that feeling," Mary said in a distracted voice. Another train, headed west, slowed down at the crossing. Men ran along side and jumped on while almost as many men leaped off. Mary shook her head in dismay.
"Is something wrong?" Rachel asked.
"How are you so brave to live this close to the railroad tracks? Hobos keep jumping on and off the trains at the crossing."
"The hobos don't bother me," Rachel assured her. "They do knock on the door once in awhile to ask for food. If I have extra, I give what I can."
"Doesn't sound like a good idea to me. You shouldn't encourage that sort of thing. Those men look desperate to me and that makes them dangerous," warned Mary.
"Perhaps, you're just edgy because of what you've been through this last year. Those men are just down on their luck. How about some lunch? This afternoon, I want to take you over to the school and show you around. I have a car. When you're ready to leave in a few days, I'll take you back to town to catch a bus," Rachel offered.
After dark, Mary jumped at every little noise outside. Rachel laughed at how spooked her friend was. "Relax. There's always stray dogs and cats prowling in the night, looking for scraps."
By bedtime, Mary still wasn't convinced the cabin was a safe place to sleep. A series of sharp yips startled her. The racket came from the hillside in front of the cabin.
"That is coyotes on the run. They'll be into some farmer's chickens before morning, I expect," Rachel told her.
The yips came again. "Those animals sound like they're right outside the cabin," Mary said, shuttering.
Angry voices, some talking loud and others yelling, drifted from the timber to the women through the thin cabin walls. "Sounds like the migrants are into a fight again," said Rachel with a sigh.
"Again," screeched Mary. "You mean this happens often?"
"Once in awhile. Some of the migrants are a rough lot," Rachel admitted, looking at her sideways.
In the bedroom, Mary put on her nightgown and crawled under the covers on the cot Rachel fixed for her. She tossed and turned, having trouble going to sleep in the pitch black room. In a trembling voice, she said, "Rachel, how do you know the difference between a dog prowling outside your door and a hobo?"
Rachel's voice held humor as she said, "Simple. The dog can't turn the door knob."
"Honestly, Rachel, you're awful. That isn't one bit funny," Mary said, pulling her covers up to her chin. "Do you have a gun?"
"Land's sakes, no. Just go to sleep, Mary. You'll be safe enough in here with me," Rachel assured her.
Mary listened intently at first in case hobos lurked outside. Finally, she slept fitfully, dreaming the cabin was surrounded by hobos. They peeked in the windows and rattled the door knob.
Right on cue as soon as the lights went out and the women stopped talking, the rat gnawed with gusto. Rachel held her breath, hoping that Mary didn't hear the racket. Rumbling snores from across the room convinced her the noise wouldn't bother Mary. Rachel fell asleep wishing she could figure out a way to persuade that nasty creature to move out from under her home. The sooner the better. She longed for a peaceful night's sleep.
The next morning, Rachel, while filling the coffee pot at the sink, looked down. There was what she had dreaded for days. In front of the sink was the feared hole, with fresh wood shavings heaped around the edges. Slowly, she opened the sink door. Cowering in a shadowy corner behind a stack of iron skillets, the beady eyed, black rat stared at her.
Horrified, Rachel screamed. She forgot about her sleeping company as she yelled, "Oh my, he's gotten in." She slammed the sink door.
Startled awake, Mary sprang off the cot. She pulled a butcher knife out from under her pillow. The picture of an unkempt, menacing hobo ran through her mind. At that very minute, he was stalking Rachel in the kitchen.
"Where's he at?" Mary's loud voice trembled. Her bare feet thudded on the floor as she raced to the doorway. Afraid for her life, she flattened herself against the bedroom wall to listen.
"Under the sink," Rachel replied in a disgusted voice.
Welding the knife with its blade up in the air, Mary peeked around the door. Bewildered, she looked around the room. Rachel, stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at the sink cabinet door. "How - how did he get in there?" She stuttered.
Looking over her shoulder, Rachel spotted Mary's weapon. "That my knife?"
"If you had a gun, I wouldn't need this for protection. I slept with it under my pillow," Mary replied sheepishly.
Rachel grabbed the broom, leaning in the corner. She opened the sink door and prodded back and forth with the handle. "Get out of there," she yelled.
Mary clamped her hand over her mouth and shrank back into the bedroom. She waited for the hobo to unbend from his contortious position and spring out of the cupboard. When he attacked Rachel, she'd have to be brave enough to stab him with the knife, but she didn't know where she'd find the courage.
Suddenly, the rat darted out of the cabinet and ran in circles around Rachel's feet. Doing a jumping dance, the frantic woman slapped the floor wildly with her broom. Mary peeked into the kitchen. She ducked back out of sight just in time to keep from getting hit when the broom came up over Rachel's head. The rat headed for under the table. Rachel slapped the business end of the broom down at him, but missed. He hunkered by a far table leg, hoping that Rachel wouldn't spot him.
Rachel rammed the broom handle at him, yelling, "Out from under the table, you creepy thing."
"He's under that small table?" Mary cried in disbelief from the bedroom.
"He was," Rachel screeched. "He's on the move again now."
A fast black blur, the rat, hunkered low and scurried across the floor, up the cupboard and under the wooden bread box lid.
Rachel cried, "Oh, no! He went in the bread box with my bread." Mary, clutching the knife, eased out into the kitchen. "Let him have the bread. You can buy more." Completely befuddled, she looked at the small box and whispered, "How could he fit in there?"
As Rachel turned her back on the bread box to answer, she felt a scratchy, fuzzy upward movement inside her left slack leg. She clutched her thigh and watched the lump continue to move up her slacks past her knee. "Oh, Mary, he's in my slacks. What will I do?"
Thinking Rachel had lost her mind, Mary said, "Dear, he couldn't be in there. Don't you think you should sit down?"
"I can't do that. I have to get shut of him," Rachel said, giving Mary a disgusted look. She yanked the back door open and ran out into the yard.
Mary followed her. Helplessly, she watched Rachel frantically jump up and down like she was skipping rope.
As the movement continued in Rachel's slacks leg, she darted around the yard holding her leg tightly and screaming very loud. After she grew weary from the exertion, she looked down at her slack leg and begged, "Please leave. Please leave."
"Poor Rachel. I knew living out here on this prairie had to get to you. I just didn't realize you were this bad. Please stop bouncing around," Mary commanded, grabbing Rachel by the shoulder. "You must calm down. I promise you there isn't a hobo in your slacks."
That statement brought Rachel to an instant stop. Panting, she gave Mary a incredulous glare. "There isn't a hobo in my pants. What are you talking about?"
Mary answered in a small voice. "I thought you thought you had a hobo going up your leg. What do you have in your pants?"
"Believe it or not. What's in my pants is much worse. It's a rat."
Mary turned loose of Rachel and staggered backed a few feet. "Really?"
"Really. I knew he was under the cabin floor, but I hoped he wouldn't gnaw through while you was here." Rachel couldn't feel movement in her hands anymore. She loosened her grip on the lump. It didn't move. She shook her leg and cringed as she felt the tickling, furry lump slide down her shin. The motionless rat appeared and lay her shoe. Rachel gave a fast kick, sending the rat toward Mary.
Pale faced, Mary squealed and dodged sideways.
"Thank goodness, he's dead," Rachel sighed, panting.
"He is, but I'm not sure I'm going to live through all this excitement," Mary said and giggled. "Tell me the rest of today is going to be calmer, please."
"Can't never tell what will happen next around here," Rachel affirmed, laughing.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Risner To Speak At Women Health Fair
I've been invited to be the guest speaker at Van Buren County Hospital's Women Health Fair in Keosauqua, Iowa on October 14, 2010 from 2:30 - 5:30 p.m. I'll be speaking about my Alzheimer's Caregiver Experiences. This year's theme is "Fight Like A Girl". The expected attendance is around 200. This sounds like a fun experience, but I think I'll keep my fingers crossed that I do a good job.
How did I end up with this invitation? I joined a website for Iowa authors http://wwwhttp://www.iowacenterforthebooks.org Any group looking for a speaker can read a list of books I've written and my biography. This is the second speaking engagement I've received from that website. I don't think I can remind other authors often enough to check out their state resources for authors.
What was it in my biography that qualifies me to speak at a Hospital Health Fair? Let me tell you. My experiences include helping my mother care for my father for ten years while he battled Alzheimer's disease and working in long term care at the Keystone Nursing Care Center in Keystone, Iowa as a Certified Nurse Aide for almost sixteen years. It's not often you meet someone like me that is a CNA/author/speaker. That's because I didn't just do my job for the paycheck. I tried to make a difference in the lives of the residents by understanding how Alzheimer's disease affected them and their families and doing something about it. In my time as CNA, I was awarded the 2004 award for Certified Nurse Aide by the Iowa Health Care Association and 2006 Professional Caregiver Award by the Alzheimer's Association. Those awards will be mentioned along with a picture of me on the marketing director's advertising about the Health Fair CNA/author/speaker.
While I took care of my father, I kept a journal. After his death, I turned that journal into a story about what it was like for his family to take care of him. Realizing there are many books on the market about caregivers struggling to care for someone, I made my book different by adding helpful caregiving tips at the end of chapters. Plus, I had the advantage of being able to write this book from a CNA point of view. The book is Hello Alzheimer's Good Bye Dad.
As more residents with Alzheimer's were admitted to the nursing home, I met many families baffled by what the disease was doing to their loved ones. I started a support group to help. I listened and explained what I knew from my experiences with my father and my job. Early on I decided I needed to write a book of examples about how to relate to someone with Alzheimer's. That book is Open A Window.
Anyone that wants to be an author needs some speaking ability. I've been speaking since 1998. The Alzheimer's Association asked me to speak at a conference for ministers. I was scared stiff, and the subject was a painful one, talking about caring for my father. When I received a packet from the Alzheimer's Association in the mail with the survey about how the ministers liked my speech, I was overwhelmed by their great comments. Also in that packet was a form to fill out and send back if I wanted to be in the volunteer speakers bureau. There was a need in my area on the far side of the county when the Alzheimer's Association didn't have as many experienced employees. Now adequate staff has eliminated the need for volunteer speakers, but I still get an invitation once in a while and I go. Education about Alzheimer's disease is very important for families. Have I spoke before an audience of 200 people? No! But how much different can that be than speaking to 20 - 50. Besides, I'm doing two sessions so I won't have 400 eyes looking at me at the same time.
The administer at the nursing home asked me several times to be the speaker for inservices on Alzheimer's. For one inservice, I wrote a fifteen minute skit about a woman, with Alzheimer's, in the nursing home. Two nieces came to visit and didn't know how to relate to her. The employee who found the most mistakes made by the nieces received dinner for two at a restaurant. That skit later became my three act play, Floating Feathers Of Yesterdays.
Van Buren County Hospital's Marketing Director wants me to bring my books to sell and sign. There will be a variety of health related booths besides mine. My husband has consented to go along with me on this three hour drive. He can help carry in the boxes of books and watch the table while I'm not there. I've found he makes a good salesman for my books. He has read them all and never fails to tell people that he likes what he read.
An added plus is I get to take my Amish books, too. When I had the idea to write them, I thought if I set my series about Nurse Hal Among the Amish somewhere in Iowa that might be a way to increase sales in my area. Turns out the marketing director at the hospital says she likes the idea very much that the books are set in southern Iowa and for the Health Fair theme it's an added bonus that the books are about a nurse. "A Promise Is A Promise and The Rainbow's End - books in my Nurse Hal Among The Amish series.
So now I've a speech to write and practice. Plus I've been thinking about what I want on my table. Just recently, I printed out a large batch of business cards and bought a card holder to display them. I have three short story books. These were stories I entered and placed with in contests. I'm taking them to use in a give away. People can sign up for the drawing, and I'll mail the book from home after I draw. That way no one has to worry about being there for the drawing. Since the three books are different themes, people can list a preference when they put their name in the basket. I will put a list of my books and a business card in with the winning book so that might encourage the winner to want to read more of my books. One of these books goes along with the health theme for that day - Butterfly and Angel Wings.
I'm looking forward to the opportunity and the drive. Fall is coming. The timbered hills along the way should be lovely in October. The marketing director asked if I charged a fee. My answer was I'm free. Ever since I helped my mom with my father I've liked educating others suffering the pain of watching a loved one go through Alzheimer's disease. The bonus is now that I'm an author I get to talk about my books at the same time and sell them. I'll tell you all about how the Health Fair went after October 14th.
How did I end up with this invitation? I joined a website for Iowa authors http://wwwhttp://www.iowacenterforthebooks.org Any group looking for a speaker can read a list of books I've written and my biography. This is the second speaking engagement I've received from that website. I don't think I can remind other authors often enough to check out their state resources for authors.
What was it in my biography that qualifies me to speak at a Hospital Health Fair? Let me tell you. My experiences include helping my mother care for my father for ten years while he battled Alzheimer's disease and working in long term care at the Keystone Nursing Care Center in Keystone, Iowa as a Certified Nurse Aide for almost sixteen years. It's not often you meet someone like me that is a CNA/author/speaker. That's because I didn't just do my job for the paycheck. I tried to make a difference in the lives of the residents by understanding how Alzheimer's disease affected them and their families and doing something about it. In my time as CNA, I was awarded the 2004 award for Certified Nurse Aide by the Iowa Health Care Association and 2006 Professional Caregiver Award by the Alzheimer's Association. Those awards will be mentioned along with a picture of me on the marketing director's advertising about the Health Fair CNA/author/speaker.
While I took care of my father, I kept a journal. After his death, I turned that journal into a story about what it was like for his family to take care of him. Realizing there are many books on the market about caregivers struggling to care for someone, I made my book different by adding helpful caregiving tips at the end of chapters. Plus, I had the advantage of being able to write this book from a CNA point of view. The book is Hello Alzheimer's Good Bye Dad.
As more residents with Alzheimer's were admitted to the nursing home, I met many families baffled by what the disease was doing to their loved ones. I started a support group to help. I listened and explained what I knew from my experiences with my father and my job. Early on I decided I needed to write a book of examples about how to relate to someone with Alzheimer's. That book is Open A Window.
Anyone that wants to be an author needs some speaking ability. I've been speaking since 1998. The Alzheimer's Association asked me to speak at a conference for ministers. I was scared stiff, and the subject was a painful one, talking about caring for my father. When I received a packet from the Alzheimer's Association in the mail with the survey about how the ministers liked my speech, I was overwhelmed by their great comments. Also in that packet was a form to fill out and send back if I wanted to be in the volunteer speakers bureau. There was a need in my area on the far side of the county when the Alzheimer's Association didn't have as many experienced employees. Now adequate staff has eliminated the need for volunteer speakers, but I still get an invitation once in a while and I go. Education about Alzheimer's disease is very important for families. Have I spoke before an audience of 200 people? No! But how much different can that be than speaking to 20 - 50. Besides, I'm doing two sessions so I won't have 400 eyes looking at me at the same time.
The administer at the nursing home asked me several times to be the speaker for inservices on Alzheimer's. For one inservice, I wrote a fifteen minute skit about a woman, with Alzheimer's, in the nursing home. Two nieces came to visit and didn't know how to relate to her. The employee who found the most mistakes made by the nieces received dinner for two at a restaurant. That skit later became my three act play, Floating Feathers Of Yesterdays.
Van Buren County Hospital's Marketing Director wants me to bring my books to sell and sign. There will be a variety of health related booths besides mine. My husband has consented to go along with me on this three hour drive. He can help carry in the boxes of books and watch the table while I'm not there. I've found he makes a good salesman for my books. He has read them all and never fails to tell people that he likes what he read.
An added plus is I get to take my Amish books, too. When I had the idea to write them, I thought if I set my series about Nurse Hal Among the Amish somewhere in Iowa that might be a way to increase sales in my area. Turns out the marketing director at the hospital says she likes the idea very much that the books are set in southern Iowa and for the Health Fair theme it's an added bonus that the books are about a nurse. "A Promise Is A Promise and The Rainbow's End - books in my Nurse Hal Among The Amish series.
So now I've a speech to write and practice. Plus I've been thinking about what I want on my table. Just recently, I printed out a large batch of business cards and bought a card holder to display them. I have three short story books. These were stories I entered and placed with in contests. I'm taking them to use in a give away. People can sign up for the drawing, and I'll mail the book from home after I draw. That way no one has to worry about being there for the drawing. Since the three books are different themes, people can list a preference when they put their name in the basket. I will put a list of my books and a business card in with the winning book so that might encourage the winner to want to read more of my books. One of these books goes along with the health theme for that day - Butterfly and Angel Wings.
I'm looking forward to the opportunity and the drive. Fall is coming. The timbered hills along the way should be lovely in October. The marketing director asked if I charged a fee. My answer was I'm free. Ever since I helped my mom with my father I've liked educating others suffering the pain of watching a loved one go through Alzheimer's disease. The bonus is now that I'm an author I get to talk about my books at the same time and sell them. I'll tell you all about how the Health Fair went after October 14th.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Taping Interview Sold Story
I'm interviewing my mother-in-law while she tells me about her early years. Why you might ask? Well, she's going to turn 90 years old in a couple weeks. There is so much about her life that should be interesting to her grandchildren and great grandchilden since life today is so different from when she was born. We're thankful that this woman is one sharp minded cookie and able to be a main stay in our lives as long as we can keep her with us. She has been dubbed Little Grandma because she's an agile, healthy four feet eleven inches example to live by. Her life long passions have been two. First one is her faith. She knows all the stories in her well worn bible. Second is growing flowers and plants of all kinds. I've never seen anyone else that has a thumb as green as hers. We both started out with rose cuttings in June from the same plants. Her rose cuttings are alive and growing. Mine dried up a long time ago. I'm used to this problem and always know I can get another start from Mom when she has her plants big enough to share.
This lady is busy in the summer raising many flowers, which cover much of her large yard, and a large garden from which she freezes the bounty and gives much of the veggies away. She has given the coming of her 90th birthday much thought. Recently, she told my husband not to till up her garden this fall. We should wait and see how she feels about planting a garden next spring. I told her to look ahead. She's only as old as she feels. She said age was a state of mind. She'd do what she was able to do as long as she could.
In the fall, she always takes in cuttings from her houseplants and keeps them alive all winter until time to set them out again. If she loses a plant she bemoans the fact as if she's had a death in the family. I take my cues from this woman so I'm ready preparing for fall and winter, too. Working in a flower bed is much easier to do if the weather is warm.
I use a tape recorder to document Mom's answers to my questions about the last century. Where did I get the idea to tape someone's story? Several years ago, I taped a resident at the nursing home. That happened because one evening at their dinner hour, I told everyone in the dining room the Good Old Days magazine bought my fourth story from me.
The woman said, "I have stories."
Afraid of where this was leading, I replied, "The magazine likes pictures with the stories."
"I have pictures," she insisted.
"The pictures have to be in black and white," I countered.
"They are."
"The story has to be before 1960," I said.
"It is."
"Let me guess. You want me to write a story for you."
Grinning widely, she nodded in the affirmative.
My day off was coming up. So if nothing else, why not share my time to reminsce with this woman. Spending time with a lonely person is a good way to volunteer. This lady happened to be a resident that had very little company. So I set up a meeting in the conference room one morning. I wanted this lady to think I was sincerely interested in helping her so I took my tape player and plenty of tapes. By taping the conversation, I wouldn't forget details about her story, and I'd be paying closer attention to her if I wasn't always writing down notes.
We went through her picture album together. She introduced me to her relatives and shared her early life with me. When the hour was up, I pushed her to the dining room for lunch and left. If nothing else came from that meeting, I was sure she had a good time remembering the past with someone who really listened to her and was interested enough to ask questions.
When I listened to the tapes, my idea as to write a story to give the resident. That should make her happy. The more I listened I realized what stood out was Sunday afternoons spent at her grandparents with a whole house full of relatives. Potluck for lunch, baseball in the afternoon with cousins and later rides on Grandpa's white horse. What I heard on my tapes was this lady has a speech pattern I wouldn't have used if I had taken handwritten notes. I'm told I write the way I talk. That's what readers that know me say anyway. Taking the story from the tape, I was able to write her story in her words the way she spoke them. At that point, I recognized a story that had selling possibilities if I submitted it to Good Old Days magazine. Families don't get together like they used to when all the relatives lived close by.
I read the story to the resident. She approved. I submitted the story to the Good Old Days. The by line had her name as told by me which I'd seen others do on several submissions. I explained in my submission letter that this woman was in a nursing home. I didn't know if her story was something the magazine wanted but the woman had fun telling this story, and I enjoyed listening to it. To my surprise and everyone else's, our story was accepted and published in the July 2007 issue of Good Old Days specials - Family Get-Togethers.
The resident was so proud. She told everyone she was a published author. The activity director had an activity just for her. The two of them sat in front of an audience at the nursing home while the activity director read her story. The other residents clapped their approval which made that woman glow. That short hour I spent with her taping her story gave her a shining moment that lasted for days as she repeatiedly told people she was a published author. Selling another one of my stories was great, but the bonus was how I brightened her days. I will always be glad I did that for her.
Now I'm taping my mother-in-law's story. She speaks with a southern accent and a speech pattern from the 20's and 30's. I couldn't duplicate that without the aid of a tape player. What am I going to do with this story? She's already warned me I am not to make a book out of it that would be published to the world. I assured her my intention was to give her life story in book form to the following generations as her legacy to them. Besides, I can always use the writing practice.
At our first taping, I ran out of questions. Mom's daughter that had this idea came up with suggestions. Since then we've had another taping. I found a way to come up with more questions by then. Last Thursday, my husband and I went to the Old Thrasher Reunion in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa. Talk about going back in the past. We took a trolley ride, watched school in session in a one room school house, saw rugs made on a loom and quilting in an 1850 log cabin. Everything is exhibited for men and women from steam engines and old tractors. For women, there is a reminder of how far we've come from the drudgery of the past when I looked at wood cook stoves, lye soap, wash boards, sad irons and much more. My mind was on my mother-in-law's story. I took pictures of what might have been used in her lifetime as well as pictures of signs describing what we now think of as antiques. So Saturday afternoon, I had another round of questions for Mom. After about 90 minutes, my sister-in-law and I ran out of questions again. Now I'm working on a new list for the next time.
Mom asked me how I was going to put the story together. I told her we skipped around in her life so this would take time. A story that will be a good winter project. Could it be she is eager to see this book she was hesitate about in the beginning? I explained I'd have to make chapters and add each story to the chapter it fit into as I put her life in order by years. Also, I want to make this a history lesson for the children, this story is intended for, so I will add who was president, the depression era, and other history events in a time line with her life.
She's not so suspicious of my motives now. In fact, she was eager to start talking and thought of events like the pie socials and winter sled rides through the timber to her grandparents that I wouldn't know to ask about. It's a good thing I didn't have to take notes, because I listened too intently to write details down. Whether you are a writer or not, take it from me that time gets away from busy families. I have lost many elderly relatives that could have told me the stories Mom is telling. Events have come to my attention that made me regret I didn't ask questions when my parents were alive. This time, I'm making sure the next generations will know this grandma. The next time I have the opportunity to tape someone it might be to sell another story. This is a method that works for me.
Am I always looking for a good story and characters that stand out? Sure I am. Mom didn't say I couldn't use a likeness of her character with a different name in a fiction book. But just to be on the safe side now that I have her talking, let's keep this our little secret.
Odds and Ends
It's always a thrill to know my blog posts get noticed. I appreciate that last week's blog post Short Story Contest Winner was featured on iFOGO village's home page. A new leader board went up on that site, and I found me at number five. Thank you iFOGO village and Gene Cartwright for the acknowledgments.
Those of you that have followed my blog posts about making hay should know that we just finished the last cutting for the year. I was so relieved to get done with the overhauled tractor working fine, the ancient baler shooting out every bale without incident and the brand new hay conveyor sent every bale to the loft with a smooth rattle. So just went I thought we lucked out this time, I woke up the next morning after unloading those bales to find my back painful. I gave in to going to the doctor for muscle relaxants and pain pills. I took one of each and was moving and talking in s - l - o - w motion for 24 hours. It's a good thing I write these posts a few days ahead of time so I can go over them a few times. Last Tuesday was a copy and paste day and lots of nap time. By Wednesday, I decided I was better off feeling the pain which was less since I'd stayed still one day so I put away the pills. I'm looking on the bright side when I say I was probably cheaper to fix than my hay making equipment, and now I can quit worrying until the next hay season in 2011.
This lady is busy in the summer raising many flowers, which cover much of her large yard, and a large garden from which she freezes the bounty and gives much of the veggies away. She has given the coming of her 90th birthday much thought. Recently, she told my husband not to till up her garden this fall. We should wait and see how she feels about planting a garden next spring. I told her to look ahead. She's only as old as she feels. She said age was a state of mind. She'd do what she was able to do as long as she could.
In the fall, she always takes in cuttings from her houseplants and keeps them alive all winter until time to set them out again. If she loses a plant she bemoans the fact as if she's had a death in the family. I take my cues from this woman so I'm ready preparing for fall and winter, too. Working in a flower bed is much easier to do if the weather is warm.
I use a tape recorder to document Mom's answers to my questions about the last century. Where did I get the idea to tape someone's story? Several years ago, I taped a resident at the nursing home. That happened because one evening at their dinner hour, I told everyone in the dining room the Good Old Days magazine bought my fourth story from me.
The woman said, "I have stories."
Afraid of where this was leading, I replied, "The magazine likes pictures with the stories."
"I have pictures," she insisted.
"The pictures have to be in black and white," I countered.
"They are."
"The story has to be before 1960," I said.
"It is."
"Let me guess. You want me to write a story for you."
Grinning widely, she nodded in the affirmative.
My day off was coming up. So if nothing else, why not share my time to reminsce with this woman. Spending time with a lonely person is a good way to volunteer. This lady happened to be a resident that had very little company. So I set up a meeting in the conference room one morning. I wanted this lady to think I was sincerely interested in helping her so I took my tape player and plenty of tapes. By taping the conversation, I wouldn't forget details about her story, and I'd be paying closer attention to her if I wasn't always writing down notes.
We went through her picture album together. She introduced me to her relatives and shared her early life with me. When the hour was up, I pushed her to the dining room for lunch and left. If nothing else came from that meeting, I was sure she had a good time remembering the past with someone who really listened to her and was interested enough to ask questions.
When I listened to the tapes, my idea as to write a story to give the resident. That should make her happy. The more I listened I realized what stood out was Sunday afternoons spent at her grandparents with a whole house full of relatives. Potluck for lunch, baseball in the afternoon with cousins and later rides on Grandpa's white horse. What I heard on my tapes was this lady has a speech pattern I wouldn't have used if I had taken handwritten notes. I'm told I write the way I talk. That's what readers that know me say anyway. Taking the story from the tape, I was able to write her story in her words the way she spoke them. At that point, I recognized a story that had selling possibilities if I submitted it to Good Old Days magazine. Families don't get together like they used to when all the relatives lived close by.
I read the story to the resident. She approved. I submitted the story to the Good Old Days. The by line had her name as told by me which I'd seen others do on several submissions. I explained in my submission letter that this woman was in a nursing home. I didn't know if her story was something the magazine wanted but the woman had fun telling this story, and I enjoyed listening to it. To my surprise and everyone else's, our story was accepted and published in the July 2007 issue of Good Old Days specials - Family Get-Togethers.
The resident was so proud. She told everyone she was a published author. The activity director had an activity just for her. The two of them sat in front of an audience at the nursing home while the activity director read her story. The other residents clapped their approval which made that woman glow. That short hour I spent with her taping her story gave her a shining moment that lasted for days as she repeatiedly told people she was a published author. Selling another one of my stories was great, but the bonus was how I brightened her days. I will always be glad I did that for her.
Now I'm taping my mother-in-law's story. She speaks with a southern accent and a speech pattern from the 20's and 30's. I couldn't duplicate that without the aid of a tape player. What am I going to do with this story? She's already warned me I am not to make a book out of it that would be published to the world. I assured her my intention was to give her life story in book form to the following generations as her legacy to them. Besides, I can always use the writing practice.
At our first taping, I ran out of questions. Mom's daughter that had this idea came up with suggestions. Since then we've had another taping. I found a way to come up with more questions by then. Last Thursday, my husband and I went to the Old Thrasher Reunion in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa. Talk about going back in the past. We took a trolley ride, watched school in session in a one room school house, saw rugs made on a loom and quilting in an 1850 log cabin. Everything is exhibited for men and women from steam engines and old tractors. For women, there is a reminder of how far we've come from the drudgery of the past when I looked at wood cook stoves, lye soap, wash boards, sad irons and much more. My mind was on my mother-in-law's story. I took pictures of what might have been used in her lifetime as well as pictures of signs describing what we now think of as antiques. So Saturday afternoon, I had another round of questions for Mom. After about 90 minutes, my sister-in-law and I ran out of questions again. Now I'm working on a new list for the next time.
Mom asked me how I was going to put the story together. I told her we skipped around in her life so this would take time. A story that will be a good winter project. Could it be she is eager to see this book she was hesitate about in the beginning? I explained I'd have to make chapters and add each story to the chapter it fit into as I put her life in order by years. Also, I want to make this a history lesson for the children, this story is intended for, so I will add who was president, the depression era, and other history events in a time line with her life.
She's not so suspicious of my motives now. In fact, she was eager to start talking and thought of events like the pie socials and winter sled rides through the timber to her grandparents that I wouldn't know to ask about. It's a good thing I didn't have to take notes, because I listened too intently to write details down. Whether you are a writer or not, take it from me that time gets away from busy families. I have lost many elderly relatives that could have told me the stories Mom is telling. Events have come to my attention that made me regret I didn't ask questions when my parents were alive. This time, I'm making sure the next generations will know this grandma. The next time I have the opportunity to tape someone it might be to sell another story. This is a method that works for me.
Am I always looking for a good story and characters that stand out? Sure I am. Mom didn't say I couldn't use a likeness of her character with a different name in a fiction book. But just to be on the safe side now that I have her talking, let's keep this our little secret.
Odds and Ends
It's always a thrill to know my blog posts get noticed. I appreciate that last week's blog post Short Story Contest Winner was featured on iFOGO village's home page. A new leader board went up on that site, and I found me at number five. Thank you iFOGO village and Gene Cartwright for the acknowledgments.
Those of you that have followed my blog posts about making hay should know that we just finished the last cutting for the year. I was so relieved to get done with the overhauled tractor working fine, the ancient baler shooting out every bale without incident and the brand new hay conveyor sent every bale to the loft with a smooth rattle. So just went I thought we lucked out this time, I woke up the next morning after unloading those bales to find my back painful. I gave in to going to the doctor for muscle relaxants and pain pills. I took one of each and was moving and talking in s - l - o - w motion for 24 hours. It's a good thing I write these posts a few days ahead of time so I can go over them a few times. Last Tuesday was a copy and paste day and lots of nap time. By Wednesday, I decided I was better off feeling the pain which was less since I'd stayed still one day so I put away the pills. I'm looking on the bright side when I say I was probably cheaper to fix than my hay making equipment, and now I can quit worrying until the next hay season in 2011.
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