Three Generations of Family Secrets

This month marks three years since the publication of my novel, Family Secrets. It is a contemporary novel. However, because the characters reach back into their past, it has historical elements dating to the Vietnam War era for Grandpa Mike. For younger people who don't have the years fixed in their head, that was from approximately 1965 to 1972 as far as heavy U.S. involvement goes, although the conflict extended beyond those years. 

Part of the motivation behind this book was to be able to share my current husband's Vietnam War experiences in a fictionalized format. However, the book comes forward with key incidences in the lives of his daughter, Christy, and his granddaughter, my main character, Jennie Graves.

I have a great deal of difficulty thinking of the 1960's as history. I not only was alive then, I graduated from high school during that decade. I watched friends receive draft notices and go off to fight in this war, whether they were enthusiastic about it or not. One young man I dated, but never fell in love with, finished college and the ROTC program and enlisted into officer training. Although I never identified with the hippie or war protest movements, at the time I never fully understood the politics behind this war, either. 

In fact, I felt a little smug back then because the man I married had just been mustered out of active duty. He told me one day his company was called together for an announcement. All who had less than thirty days of their enlistment left would be discharged from active duty. All with thirty days or more would be re-upped and sent for a year's tour in Vietnam. He was among those with fewer than thirty days.

That is how close that war touched me personally in the 1960's. It was only after I remarried a Vietnam War veteran and I heard the stories of what he experienced in Vietnam that this war became real to me. My current husband was there in 1967-68, roughly the time frame I set for my character Grandma Mike Carpenter.

Unlike Grandpa Mike, my husband figured out the best way to work through his flashbacks and nightmares was to talk about his experiences. Although we married over twenty years after his tour in Vietnam ended, on several occasions he shared with me the stories of what he went through. Even though by the time we married he rarely had the nightmares, just like Mike in my novel warns Jan, he told me what to do to protect myself and how to wake him up if I ever realized he was trapped in a nightmare.

How did the hint of a Thanksgiving theme get introduced into this novel? Once again, it was because of a story about one of my husband's experiences in Vietnam. 

In the novel, Jennie, Grandpa Mike's granddaughter, and most contemporary generation in this three-generation story, had gone to a meeting to learn how to take an oral history. Her goal was to coax Grandpa Mike's story out of him. The following excerpt introduces the Thanksgiving connection. :

          “Thanks, and I appreciate all your help. I’m going to study these hand-outs and look up all the online sites so I can be as prepared as possible. Wish me luck on Thanksgiving Day, will you? That is the one holiday my mom’s side of the family always spends together. Even though he sometimes gets quiet and grumpy after dinner, it seems to be Grandpa Mike’s favorite holiday.”

          “Really!” said Kayla. “I think Christmas is most people’s favorite holiday. I know it’s mine, hands down.”

          “Grandpa Mike says we can visit other sides of the family any other holiday, but Thanksgiving belongs to him. It’s really important to him to spend it with as many of the family as possible. I just hope that since it’s his favorite holiday, he will be in a good mood and agree to talk to me.”

          “We will be pulling for you one hundred percent, Jennie,” assured Sandy. “We can hardly wait until next month when you tell us how things worked out.”

          “Yeah, and find out why he likes Thanksgiving so much while you’re at it,” said Kaylee.

Why did Thanksgiving become so important to Grandpa Mike? For him, it had nothing to do with remembering the Pilgrims. 

Celebrating Thanksgiving in the 1960's was perhaps not much different than how many of us celebrate it now. The style of phone was different. Instead of a cell with a multitude of apps, rotary phones were the thing, even though all you used them for talking.

Watching football on television was a favorite Thanksgiving pastime on that holiday as it is for many families today. Instead of flat screens, the nicer televisions were mounted in a wooden cabinet. If a family was fortunate, they might have a combination television, radio and 78/45/33 rpm record player console. Although color television was available by 1964-66, not all shows were broadcast in color. Some of them had a whopping big 25 inch screen. And, I can remember our family having one of the first remote control televisions made. It had a control box attached to the screen with a twenty foot cable about 3/8 inches in diameter.

Like I said, I'm not that old and it is hard to think of those days as "history."

That was the world in which Mike Carpenter lived the year or two before he left for Vietnam. The chapter that follows the above excerpt starts with the following told in first person by Mike Carpenter:

          By rights, I should have celebrated the last Thanksgiving Day of my life in Vietnam. That should have been my last time eating turkey and dressing and pumpkin pie and everything that goes with it. 

          There were no football games to watch in Vietnam, and that is what I really missed about the holiday. I didn’t miss listening to Patty tying up the telephone with her friends and all her giggling and whispering and squeals that went with it. Sometimes she talked so loud that her voice drowned out a referee’s call. No, I sure did not miss that.

…     

          So, in my mind, Thanksgiving as a family celebration was out. And, although I liked the turkey dinner well enough—especially the pies afterwards—without the football to watch, the holiday just was not that important to me the year I was in-country. 

Another activity families used to enjoy during holiday dinners was sit around the table and tell stories about themselves and other family members. My grandmother's stories of her parents and grandparents crossing the plains in a covered wagon are what prompted in me a love of family history. 

Although Thanksgiving is over, if you gather with family for Christmas, after the meal, instead of playing X-box, using your cell phone to catch up on emails, or getting lost in some other technological wonder, take time to listen to the older generation tell their stories. If you are part of the older generation, open your mouth and share your family's history with your children and grandchildren.

In Family Secrets, many years after Mike returned from Vietnam, married and had children, his granddaughter, Jennie, did convince her grandpa to tell of his experiences in Vietnam. 

However you and your family and friends celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope this year is one of gratitude and love for you. And, please remember:

Zina Abbott is the pen name used by Robyn Echols for her historical novels. Her novel, Family Secrets, was published by Fire Star Press. Please visit and follow the Zina Abbott’s Amazon Author Page by clicking HERE.

Zina Abbott Author Links:

Website  |  Blog  |  Facebook  |  Pinterest  |  Goodreads  |  Twitter

PURCHASE FAMILY SECRETS ON AMAZON  

New Release -- BLUE SPRINGS by John D. Nesbitt

Wilf Kasmire is surprised to hear from his ex-girlfriend, Dawn Jenkins—and even more puzzled when she asks if she can stay with him “for a while.” The note of worry in her tone has Wilf agreeing—against his better judgment, but also wondering if she’s in trouble. Her stay with Wilf is cut short when she disappears without a note—and Wilf realizes he was right to be concerned.

When another young woman’s body is found nearby their small Wyoming town, Wilf knows he’s got to assure himself of Dawn’s safety. But as time goes by, the clues he finds tell him otherwise. Now, someone’s after Wilf, too, and he’s determined to discover if the would-be murderer is the same man who has abducted Dawn.

With little help from the local authorities, Wilf must stand alone against the man he believes is involved in a drug ring—a criminal who is likely responsible for at least two killings. A man who intends to murder Wilf, as well. But the need to know what happened to Dawn burns hot, and Wilf Kasmire is not one to admit defeat. Can he survive long enough to piece together the evidence he needs to bring the murderer down first? Nothing is certain in BLUE SPRINGS…

“Nesbitt is a true artist” — Western American Literature

EXCERPT

     Wilf pulled in parallel to the curb in front of the sheriff’s office. In the parking lot next to the building, two patrol cars and a white Jeep Cherokee, all with foot-high yellow-and-black lettering, sat with their noses lined up even. Past the vehicles, a man in uniform stood smoking a cigarette. Beyond him, the sidewalk led past the two-story part of the building that held the jail. Wilf remembered seeing prisoners in orange outfits walk that way toward the courthouse, and he was glad not to see them now.
     He got out of his pickup, waved to the cop, and went in the front door of the Hamilton County Sheriff’s Department. Inside, he waited at a glass reception window until a hefty woman pushed herself away from a desk and came to the counter.
     “How can I help you?”
     “I’d like to report a missing person.”

     

HAWKING YOUR WARES, by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer

Twenty-three years ago, while my husband was working in Japan, I got up in the middle of the night and sat at his computer. I didn’t know anything about computers beyond the very basics; I didn’t really know how to type, for that matter. But a sentence had come into my head. A first sentence. The first first sentence, with many more to follow, though I didn’t know that at the time. I only knew that I was compelled to write this one down. When the sun rose on a new day, I had forty-five pages of what was to be my first book. Several months later, it had grown into four-hundred-and-fifty, over 100,000 words, the final ones being “the end.”

According to everything I’d read about being a writer, now it was time for me to begin hawking the book to publishers. It wasn’t really “hawking” at first; in fact it was more like baring my soul to strangers. I had created this wonderful thing and wanted to share it with the world, to gently lay the baby kitten of my immagination at the feet of those who would appreciate it. I was in for some serious reality checks. After time, I learned that selling a book was like selling anything else: part enthusiasm, part good advertising, and part being louder than everyone else in the room.

That book was never published, but I didn’t mind. As long as I remained unpublished, I could write anything I pleased with no deadlines, restraints, or obligations. Then came my Crazy Cat Lady cozy mystery series, and life has never been the same. I can’t just write my stories anymore: I need to blog and use social media, tweet and post. I have launches and book signing events. I take part in large book shows with multiple authors. I dress the part, wearing cat-print clothing and furry ears, a crazy cat lady costume. It’s fun, draws people’s attention, and is an integral part of “hawking my wares.” 

The term “hawker” comes from the 16th century or before and was originally defined as a traveling street vendor.  The verb “to hawk” means “to offer for sale in a very vigorous, public fashion, especially by calling out loudly in the street.” I don’t actually sell in the streets, but some of the big shows such as the international cat show I’ve been doing this weekend can feel that way. As people walk by, I shove a promotional postcard into their hand and give them the 1-sentence book pitch: …more trouble than a cat in catnip! It works. They stop. They talk. I tell them what a cozy cat mystery is and they tell me about their cats. Sometimes they buy, and I’ve achieved my goal: to lay that kitten of my imagination, if not at their feet, at least on or near their bookshelf.

Check out more blogs by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer at:

Mollie Hunt: Crazy Cat Lady Mysteries and more

Happy reading!

Research: The R Word

RESEARCH: THE R WORD

Research for any book is essential. Even if I’m writing a romantic novel, descriptions for settings need to be accurate and protagonist flaws need to be realistic. Having the book’s setting in wet Seattle is vastly different from the desert landscape of Phoenix. Writing about a character with claustrophobia will certainly have different symptoms from one with a drinking problem.

If the plot revolves on the use of technology, I’d better know what I’m talking about or readers will correct me. If a character uses a gun, descriptions and uses need to be as accurate as I can possibly make them. Writing western romance makes it important to know a thing or two about horses. My last book was about a horse trainer who was injured while training a wild horse. Since horse training is not one of my talents, I needed to understand the process to describe it as if I’ve been training all my life. 

Research kicks into high gear when I’m writing historical fiction. I’m on book two of my World War II series about the wartime experiences of a young embassy secretary in military intelligence. My protagonist began her adventures in London at the end of the war, so it was mandatory that I understood the events, speech, dress and food from that time and place. I was lucky to have the diary of a young woman who was in London at that very time and was able to extrapolate her experiences to enrich my fictional story.

Now that my protagonist is in Oslo, Norway, details about life after the German occupation become paramount. I’ve never been to Norway, but after months of research, I feel I know the place intimately. That does not necessarily translate to flowing prose or an interesting story. Combining story with research is a neat trick to pull it off without the dreaded Information Dump. There’s so much you, the author, want to include, but it needs to serve the story, not the other way around.

So the R word with its close ally L (library) go hand in hand when you’re writing anything. Sure it’s good to write what you know, but face it—we don’t know everything.

www.jeanneharrell.com

jeanneharrellauthor@gmail.com

You are the author by Michael Gonzales

Halloween is behind us, Thanksgiving is directly ahead, and Christmas, wonderful Christmas, is soon to follow.

But then…then comes the specter of the new year. Looking back at 2017, with all of its ups and downs, its good, and its bad, is, nevertheless, somewhat comforting because we know how it turned out.

2018, on the other hand, is the great unknown. It is the blank page faced by the writer.

Remember…the page does not write the story, the story teller does.

What will you write onto the yet empty pages of the coming year? Will it be a comedy, a tragedy? Whatever happens it won’t be fiction, even if you're abducted by Gabernites from the planet…ah…Gab, if it actually happens to you…then it ain’t fiction.

Perhaps you’ll come into vast wealth? Discover a pirate treasure, the lost gold of the Inca, or win Publishers Clearing House!

You might just live an action adventure, visit strange places, and distant lands.

This next orbital rotation just might be your year for romance.

Just remember, you must be the writer, the captain of your ship, the commander of your fate (where have I read that?).

As the writer sits before the blank page, or the blank monitor, he or she has a concept in mind, perhaps the story is all sketched out and the plot solidified. However, as the story unfolds the writer is bombarded with new ideas and concepts. Outside influences will act upon his mind, and the story will morph.

When finished, the author may not have the story the author intended, not at all, but as the author reads the finished work she may find she is not at all displeased with the story.

This then is the ultimate goal, to be pleased with your story. For unlike the pages in the writer’s computer that allows her to edit, even re-write whole chapters at a time, the pages of a new year are indelible, each is a chapter of our life’s book, that in the end, we, the author, must find to have been fulfilling.

And, oh…there is only one reviewer whose opinion counts.

  

Read books I and II of The Unborn Galaxy -- before the release of book III, Across a Sea of Stars.

https://www.amazon.com/Dark-Moon-Rising-Unborn-Galaxy-ebook/dp/B01CBNSAEG/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_product_top?ie=UTF8

https://www.amazon.com/Battle-Broken-Moon-Unborn-Galaxy/dp/1540645681/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Web site:  http://www.mikegonzalesauthor.com/home.html

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Not a Grammar Nazi

We all know them, those people who live to correct the grammar mistakes of others - preferably on public forums such as Facebook and Twitter. They are known collectively as Grammar Nazis and have the ability to suck the joy out of almost anything by focusing on what was most likely a mistake.

I came across an awesome tweet one day which included a pop culture reference which just pushed the awesomeness to another level. The tweet (which of course I can't find again) had countless likes, retweets, and comments. I was shocked to find that most of the comments focused on the one grammatical error in the tweet instead of the amazing overall content. (If I remember correctly it was "whose" instead of "who's".) I just wanted to shake people and scream "You're missing the point!" It's no harder to use your 140 characters to give the originator of the tweet kudos for creativity than it is to point out a mistake that they are (now) well aware of. However, Twitter doesn't allow for editing of tweets so the originator's only option is to delete it or just deal with the negativity.

We have an "instant messaging" feature at work that we can use to contact other employees. One of my coworkers knows that I'm an author (most don't) and she told me one day that she is always nervous about messaging me because she's worried about making some sort of mistake. I (hopefully) assured her that I'm not one to nit pick which may seem to be an odd trait for a writer.

So, am I saying that good grammar isn't important? Not at all. When I send a book off to an editor, I'm going to make sure that it is as perfect as I can make it. I also know when I get that book back, the editor will have found simple grammatical mistakes that I overlooked. It's easy to miss our own mistakes, especially when we have been working on the same manuscript for any length of time. After a while, the brain sees what it expects to see instead of what is actually there. This is why editors are so important.

So, if my passion involves the use of words and grammar why am I not a grammar nazi? Simple:

1. Everybody makes mistakes - even those so fond of policing others.

2. Autocorrect is the great equalizer. Anyone who uses a smartphone or tablet is well acquainted with typing a message and hitting send only to realize that autocorrect reared its ugly head and made changes - sometimes rather embarrassing ones.

I fell victim to autocorrect this morning. I typed up a tweet, proofread it, sent it, and moved on with life. A couple of hours later I realized that in spite of proofreading there was a typo in the tweet. *sigh* How did I miss the error? It was an example of what I mentioned earlier - I saw what I expected to see instead of what was actually there.

There, their, they're. It's just a mistake, not the end of the world.

On another note, while I am not one to be offended by any and every thing, I actually am not fond of the use of the term "nazi" in this context. I feel that it somewhat demeans the atrocities that occurred during the Holocaust but that's a topic for another post.

So, are you a grammar nazi? Be honest. I won't tell. ;-)

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New Release -- Second Chance Dreams by Agnes Alexander

 A Coverton Mills Romance Book 2

All of Jude Winslow’s friends know he avoids politicians and preachers. Enter widow, Kay Littleton, a US Senator who has no idea about his feelings. Her occupation isn’t talked about when she comes to Coverton Mills to visit her nephew. When Jude comes to the Parker farm to help fight a barn fire, he meets Kay and falls for the tiny woman on sight. After giving his heart, he feels betrayed when he learns she’s a politician.

As much in love as he and she both are, Kay can’t understand why he rejects her. Knowing there is nothing else she can do to change his mind, she gives up her dream of retiring to North Carolina. Then a secret letter is found that changes everything.

EXCERPT

     “Jude Winslow, I can’t believe you said that.” Mavis Parker rolled her brown eyes at him, then looked at her husband. “Can you, Neil?”
     “I can believe he said it, but I can’t believe he believes it,” Neil replied. “It might sound okay in theory, but in real life it’d never work.”
     “I disagree with both of you,” Jude said as he stretched his long legs out in front of him. “I think it’d work as well as anything else. Look at all the people who’re divorced and they dated their spouse for months and sometimes for years before getting married.”
     “That may be true, but to marry a perfect stranger can’t be the answer. I don’t care how you slice it. I still say it’d never work.” Neil shook his head at Jude. “Man, I’d hate to marry a woman I didn’t know. Why, I’ve known Mavis since we were kids and she still baffles me, at times. A stranger would be impossible to figure out.”