by jphilo | Jan 17, 2014 | Mystery Update
Can it be that 4 months have passed since my wonderful September visit to Harding County? In my mind, those days of beautiful weather when the sun shone through the gold-tipped leaves of the cottonwood trees seem like only a week or 2 in the past.
But the calendar doesn’t lie. And it says 4 months.
Much has happened in those months. A work trip to Michigan. The first draft of Every Child Welcome written. Thanksgiving at our house. Oktoberfest and Black Friday editions of Camp Dorothy, helping our kids move, conducting a special needs ministry workshop in Nebraska with Katie Wetherbee, and Christmas, Christmas, and more Christmas celebrations from hither to yon.
All that jocularity–and recovering from it–meant the mystery novel was neglected for 4 months.
But not any more! Thanks to a couple weeks back in the saddle, Jane, the novel’s protagonist, and her story world saw the light of day again. Opening the file took a lot of guts, because during the 4 months just passed, I’d convinced myself the novel was no good. I was ready to scrap the whole manuscript and start from scratch.
But the main thing that changed while I read through the story was my mind.
Most of the manuscript actually held together, and the necessary changes can wait to be made until the first draft is complete. With a few exceptions. Two students, whose back stories have been lovingly prepared, from Jane’s primary class have to age 2 years and move into the intermediate classroom. And two intermediate students, who are presently strangers to Jane and me, must become 2 years younger and join her K–3 classroom.
This kind of change makes my former teacher’s heart–and Jane’s new teacher’s heart–cringe.
After all, Jane and I have gotten attached to those students! But the switch has to be made to simplify the cast of characters so people like you, dear reader, will be able to follow the plot line more easily. Therefore, once today’s quota of research for a newly contracted non-fiction book is reached and I’ve cleaned the bathrooms*, I’ll be writing back story for Beau and Beck, Jane’s new students. As well as back story for their grandparents and guardians, Burt and Verna Kelly. Now, if you’re wondering why Beau and Beck live with their grandparents, you’re getting close to the heart of the mystery.
My resolve to not provide any further enlightenment about that remains unchanged.
As does the purpose of this post. Which is to keep the project in the forefront of your consciousness, even when the author goes AWAL for 4 months, and to provide tantalizing hints that will compel you to purchase the book if and when it is published.
In the meantime, stay tuned for changes to come!
*Yes, an author’s life is really that glamorous.
by jphilo | Jan 6, 2014 | Daily Life
Contrary to what a literal interpretation of the above title implies, the no-longer-afraid-of-heights-and-horses genie did not work any magic at our house over the holidays. Neither the man of steel or the woman of aluminum will be riding horses in the near future. Or until hell freezes over. Which could be today with a predicted high of -7.
But I digress.
The back in the saddle reference is purely metaphorical–as is the hell freezing over phrase–so maybe the previous paragraph wasn’t a digression, though this one is in danger of becoming one.
Back to the topic at hand.
After an autumn filled with writing-related travel and pitching in to help rellies move, along with two December weekends devoted to Christmas travel and house guests at our house this past weekend, the hubbub is officially over.
I am back in the saddle again.
Back in the saddle that is preparing DifferentDream.com blog posts on Mondays, visiting Mom on Tuesdays, delving into writing and speaking projects Wednesdays through Fridays, and working around the house on the weekends. Back in the saddle without interruption for all of January and February.
A very boring saddle.
And a totally welcome one. Because it offers the long stretches of time needed to disappear into the story land of the mystery novel waiting to be completed. A story land replete with real horses and real saddles, which are fun to image riding because there’s no danger of falling off and getting hurt.
Now that’s my kind of adventure.
Which is why I’m glad to be back in the saddle again. A metaphorical place were I plan to stay for most of January and February. Yippie yi yo kayah!
by jphilo | Sep 20, 2013 | Out and About
Today’s my last day in Harding County’s wide open spaces. The weather’s been spectacular, old friends have been more than welcoming, and the students I worked with Tuesday and yesterday were delightful. The kids shared their perspectives about life on the short grass prairie, which enabled me to see the county with their young eyes. Hopefully, those perspectives will ooze into my mystery novel and make this place come alive for readers.
But who wants to wait until the mystery is published (if it’s ever published) to get a feel for this place? Certainly not me! So here’s a sneak peek at what the kids, ages 8–12, say needs to be in a book to show readers what makes Harding County Harding County.
- So many people come during hunting season, my dad makes me wear bright colors whenever I’m outside.
- The wind.
- There are tractors and hay bales everywhere.
- Our county history makes this place what it is, especially Tipperary Arena and the statue of Tipperary, the bucking horse.
- Cattle wander and disappear into other people’s pastures, and we have to go find them.
- Small towns.
- The huge, flat places.
- The buttes.
- It’s tough to live here, especially during a drought.
- Horses and rodeos.
- People trail cattle right across the highway.
How in the world can all that be worked into one mystery novel? It may be an impossible task. Which means it’s time to think about a long series. Hmmm.
by jphilo | Sep 13, 2013 | Out and About
In just a few hours, I’ll be on my way to the McFarthest spot where Hiram and I lived for seven years. We moved there in 1978, two shiny new college graduates with our first grown up jobs. Seven years later, we returned to Iowa so our three-year-old son could be closer to doctors and a children’s hospital.
When we left Harding County, a tiny bit of my heart stayed behind, though I didn’t know it way back then. But with the passing of years and decades, it calls to me disguised as longings for the immense sky and the cool night air, for elbow room and old friends. In answer, I pull out my mystery novel manuscript and let my imagination take me there.
But this week I’m making the long drive west and north to do background research.
I want to smell the air, see the small towns, and hear gravel ping against the fender.
Feel my stomach lurch as the car rounds the curve at the crest of the Jump-Off.
Remember what it was like to live without cell phone service and wireless wi-fi.
Visit the school where I once taught, where a former student teaches now.
Hug old friends.
Share old memories.
All in an effort to pour this far away, precious place and the kind of people who live there into a fiction story. So readers who don’t live there and don’t know what they’re missing can fall in love with my McFarthest spot. So the remote and vast land that captured my heart 28 years ago captures their hearts, too.
Are you there yet?
by jphilo | May 13, 2013 | Book Updates
Meet Jane.
Not quite this Jane.
But not quite not this Jane.
Meet this Jane, all grown up.
Jane’s the protagonist of the mystery novel I’ve been writing at the end of each day when my other serious writing is done. Her name is a deliberate harkening back to the Jane of Dick and Jane fame. Because in addition to being the solver of the mystery, Jane is an elementary school teacher.
But not just an ordinary elementary teacher.
She teaches in a country school.
In northwest South Dakota.
Kinda like I did way back when.
Except Jane isn’t exactly like me. For one thing, she’s single when she moves from Iowa to cowboy country in 1978. Which means she’s much more interested in getting to know cowboys up close and personal than I ever was.
Also, she has curly hair.
And freckles.
Plus she’s quite independent for a 21-year-old, fresh out of college.
And she doesn’t mind getting her clothes dirty.
She speaks her mind, too, more than I did way back then. She says all the things I wanted to say but didn’t ’cause nice young ladies didn’t say that kind of thing in 1978. Especially nice young ladies who want to keep teaching school in a very small community where everyone knows what everyone else is doing.
Jane’s not always a nice young lady.
She pokes her nose into places she shouldn’t.
She window peeks.
She sneaks around in pastures populated by bulls.
Even so, Jane’s a fun friend. Sometimes, I pull her out of the messes she gets into. When we’re together, it’s like going out west again. The wide, empty horizon opens before up. We smell the fresh, short-grass prairie air. But without a 15 hour drive to get there. Or 55 miles of gravel on the last stretch of road. Or any need for me to get dirty. Because Jane takes care of those kinds of things. That’s part of what makes her so fun to be with.
Go, Jane.
Go out west, Jane.
Out west is fun, Jane.
Go, Jane. Go have fun!
