Showing posts with label Nearly Historical Novels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nearly Historical Novels. Show all posts

Friday, October 27, 2017

NEARLY HISTORICAL FICTION, PART TWO - GUEST POST by SHARON WILDWIND

Photo Credits, from left to right: Sharon Wildwind, Cindy Kirkpatrick, Ashley Wilson


THIS POST, AS THE TITLE SAYS, IS PART TWO OF SHARON WILDWIND'S excellent article on writing nearly historical fiction. If you haven't read it yet, you can read Part One here





NEARLY HISTORICAL FICTION, PART TWO

If the story is set at least 50 years in the past, it is an historical novel~ The Historical Writers of America

If the story is set less than 50 years in the past, but still feels like it’s taking place a long time ago, it’s a nearly historical novel. ~ Sharon Wildwind, mystery writer

In 1975, I was going to graduate school by distance learning. Two evenings a week, I drove 53 miles (83 kilometers) along Interstate 40, through the Great Smoky Mountains, sharing the road with high-balling truck drivers. I went to class, then drove home, often arriving after midnight.

Bored out of my skull on those drives, I spent car time developing a romantic-mystery. The premise was an American nurse seeking adventure, who takes a job in a northern Alberta nursing station. She knows nothing about, and is totally unprepared, for nursing station work, northern Alberta weather, and living in a tiny hamlet. (Never mind about why I chose Alberta. It’s complicated.)

So, I’m living in the U. S. south and writing about northern Alberta, about which I know nothing. Nada. Zip. The big mistake I made was that while I bought an Alberta map, it wasn’t a topographical map. Regular maps show distance — how to get from here to there. Topographical maps show if there might be up and down obstacles, like canyons or mountain ranges, between here and there.

The Caribou Mountains form a large part of northern Alberta geography. I’d seen photos of Banff, so I blissfully transferred a Rocky Mountain landscape to the north, and set my story in a Banff-like setting in the Caribou Mountains. (Those of you familiar with northern Alberta can stop laughing now.) The Caribou Mountains are a flat plateau, rising steeply in an impossible-to-traverse escarpment for some 1,864 feet (568 meters), and then levelling out into a flat, boggy muskeg plateau. There are no mountain peaks there, and certainly no gold mines, both of which were essential to the story I wrote.

Fast-forward forty-two years.

Sharon Wildwind in High Level, Alberta.
Having lived and worked in northern Alberta, I now had first-hand knowledge about nursing station work, northern Alberta weather, and living in a tiny hamlet. I also had terrific characters still residing in my heart, and a completely impossible plot. I had to keep the mid-1970s time frame because of events related to the characters and story. What had been a current novel had become a near historical one. So, where to start?

I bought a topographical map, and went over it with an oil and gas man who had actually walked the Caribou Mountain escarpment, and didn’t care to do it ever again. I moved my hamlet, Whiskeyjack, off the plateau to the base of the escarpment, ditched the mountain scenery, substituted logging and oil and gas exploration for a gold mine, and started again.

When we’re writing a near historical novel — something that happened less than 50 years ago — lots of readers will remember the year, the month, and sometimes the exact day in our stories. If we make a mistake, they will let us know. We owe it to our readers to have at least a nodding acquaintance with things like geography and weather. That doesn’t mean we have to be constrained by real events such as weather or real history, but if we choose to ignore or tweak something major, we owe it to our readers to tell them we are doing that. Our introduction might say something like this, “Those of you familiar with sawmills in High Level, Alberta, know that Leo Arsenault didn’t build the first mill there until the late summer of 1964. This story required that the mill be in operation several months earlier, so that’s what I did.”

How to ground nearly historical writing in a semblance of the real world:

1). Live thereThe best near historical research is to live in the place, at or near the time. I wrote more about this in Part One of this blog.

2). Talk to people who lived there. My engineering buddy gave me details I would never have invented.

3). Read journals and diaries of people who lived thereThe following books gave me a sense of the time and place about which I wanted to write.
•  Joy Duncan (ed). Red Serge Wives. Centennial Book Committee. 1974.
•  Ruth Lee-Knight. When the Second Man was a Woman. Imagine Publishing. 2004 – a story of Mounties’ wives in remote settlements.
•  Gordon Reid’s set of first person accounts of Northern Alberta. Lower Peace Publishing Company, 1963 – 1978.
•  Dr. Brad Stelfox, and others. Logging the Fairview Area. Publisher and date unknown. – While Fairview is some distance from my setting, one chapter had a general view of logging in Northern Alberta.

4). Download a calendarThere are any numbers of sites, which will produce a calendar for dates specified.

5). Download a sunrise and sunset chart. Here's one to use: http://www.sunrisesunset.comFill in the place name and the dates you want, and it makes a chart for you.) I once had two characters enjoying a lovely October sunset, north of Fort Vermilion, at 8:00 pm. At that latitude, in October, the sun sets at 6:30.

6). Look at a topographical map. Here's another good site: Canadian Topographic Maps: http://www.nrcan.gc.ca/earth-sciences/geography/topographic-information/maps/9767. Note: This site is a little hard to navigate. Instead of carrying maps in stock, they now have a printing arrangement with regional map companies to print maps on demand. On the site, find a map company near you, and send them an e-mail about what you might need. Or visit your local library. They may have a topo map or be able to get one.

7). Find out what the weather was at the time. Look for the so called “weather incidents” that people would remember. The Government of Canada Historical Climate Data: http://climate.weather.gc.ca/
can get information for specific dates or monthly summaries. For a lark, some of the weather in Whiskeyjack follows exactly what the weather was in 1977.

8). Always be on the lookout for little gemsI recently discovered Merrily K. Aubrey. Place Names of Alberta; volume IV, northern Alberta. University of Calgary Press. 1996. After looking up real places, like Fort Vermilion, High Level, and Margaret Lake, I was able to construct the following, imaginary summary for Whiskeyjack: 

  • Whiskeyjack (settlement and eventually a hamlet) 
  • 84 J/5 — Whiskeyjack (this is the topographical map reference)
  • 34-111-10-W5 (this is where it’s located on the topographical map)
  • 58 degrees 40 minutes North 115 degrees 35 minutes West (this is its longitude and latitude)
  • Approximately 110 kilometers east north-east of High Level (how far to the nearest larger population centre).
Located near the Beaver Ranch River, the area was first surveyed in 1915. The settlement was founded in 1922 as a farming community by Henry Martel, who named it after the large flocks of grey or Canadian jays in the area. After a typhoid epidemic in 1929, the settlement was abandoned, though two or three families remained in the area. In 1946-47, brothers Steven and Jonathan Randall founded the hamlet. A post office was established in 1954. The first postmaster was Thomas Purdy.

Oh, yes, always make up an imaginary cover before working on a book. Pin it some place you can see it. It’s a great reminder to keep writing. Featured above, are my imaginary covers for this trilogy. The photo for Whiskeyjack is mine. Cindy Kirkpatrick (Fireweed) and Ashley Wilson (Tamarac) have my thanks for allowing me to manipulate their copyrighted photos (personal use only). The photography is entirely theirs. Please do not forward or reproduce these photographs.

Whiskeyjack is with beta readers. I’m about a third of the way through Fireweed. I have a major event outline for Tamarac. So far, I’ve managed to stay firmly out of Banff.

(Thanks so much, Sharon. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we look forward to reading your new work. All the best with it! - Susan).

Sharon's Bio: Sharon Wildwind is a Calgary mystery writer. You can find more about her and her books at www.wildwindauthor.com.

Thursday, September 28, 2017

NEARLY HISTORICAL FICTION, GUEST POST by SHARON WILDWIND


WHEN I WAS AT THE WHEN WORDS COLLIDE FESTIVAL this past August, I was lucky enough to speak with Sharon Wildwind. Sharon writes nearly historical novels set during and after the Vietnam war, where she worked as a nurse with the U. S. Army Corps. (If you're not impressed by that alone, you should be.) Since we both love writing and think it's important to remember what the past has taught, I asked Sharon if she'd be interested in contributing to Suzenyms. (I'm so pleased she said 'yes'.) What follows is the first segment of her two-part post: 

THANKS TO SUSAN FOR ALLOWING ME an opportunity to talk about writing nearly historical novels. When does a book become a historical novel? The Historical Writers of America has one simple rule: if your setting is at least 50 years in the past, it's historical.

2017 minus 50 equals 1967, so anything set in 1967 or before is historical. Considering I was in my third year in university in 1967-68, I find that date disturbing. I must be older than I think. So what about that - to borrow The Doctor’s phrase - wibbly, wobbly, timey, wimey period - between, say 1967 and 1997? Can you remember life in 1971? Were you even born?

When I planned my first mystery series arc, I knew there was an absolute, fixed end-point: April 30, 1975, the day the Saigon American embassy fell. My protagonists were veterans who had served in the U. S. Army, and I wanted the last book to explore their lives in the two weeks after the Vietnam War ended.

I thought, maybe five books in the series? If I backtracked five years, that would set the first one in 1971. Serendipity. In the late spring of 1971, I arrived at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, having just come off of my post-Vietnam leave. Wiggle the time a bit and start Some Welcome Home with Captain Elizabeth Pepperhawk, U. S. Army Nurse Corps, just back from Vietnam, arriving at Fort Bragg on July 1, 1971.

(Yes, the photo to the left is me the previous year, a first lieutenant at the 67th Evacuation Hospital in Vietnam.)




Problems and perks of nearly historical novels:

1.   Nobody knows how to classify the book. It’s not truly historical, it’s not contemporary. I had more than one person 'in the know' say that setting a book in the 1970's meant it would never sell because it couldn’t be pigeonholed. It wasn’t like I could change the date the war ended, so I knew I had to go with what I had. Turned out I was right and they were wrong.

2.   There were a lot of people around who remembered 1971 to 1975, and most likely, remembered it wrong. Ask any cop: four witnesses to the same traffic accident will tell four different stories of an event that happened in the past hour. To build my authentic historical shell, I started with Wikipedia because it had a (likely) reliable historical timeline for each year. Then I went to the library and looked at all of the Newsweek and Time issues from January to August 1971, paying particular attention to the coverage of the Vietnam War.

3.   A nearly historical writer can’t afford to take anything for granted, especially things everybody knows are true. The nice thing about near history is that there are likely to be numerous resources to verify facts. The downside is having so many references available that it sometimes turns the nearly historical writer into the nearly hysterical writer. 

Here’s a photo taken the day before Saigon fell. What building has the helicopter landed on?

Most people will say The American Embassy in Saigon. They’re wrong. It’s actually 18 Gia Long Street, which was a house that the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) may or may not have used as an apartment for some of its operatives. When I found that out, I realised I had a perfect location for an event that happened to one of my characters.

4.   I was very fortunate that I’d kept a journal in Vietnam and had taken over 1,000 photos, mostly black and white. And I had buddies with whom I could check not only the facts, but the sense of time and place.

When you sat around in the evening over a beer, what did you talk about? Answer: home and food. 

What did you order from a Sears catalogue and have delivered to Vietnam that you couldn't do without? Most frequent answer: an electric blanket because it kept your blankets and sheets from mildewing. 

During basic training, what songs were helicopter pilots most likely to queue up on the juke box in the basement snack shop? Answer: Sky Pilot by Eric Burdon and the Animals and Ruby, Don't Take Your Love to Town by Kenny Rogers. 

In the end, the five book/five year span worked. I had loads of fun writing the series, and when Saigon fell, me and my characters were satisfied and happy to go our separate ways.

Two sites I recommend if you’re writing historical or near historical fiction:

Historical Writers (UK)

Historical Writers of America (USA)

(Thanks, Sharon. Great post, and I look forward to your next one. - Susan.)

Sharon's Bio: Sharon Wildwind is a Calgary mystery writer. Although her Elizabeth Pepperhawk/Avivah Rosen mystery series is currently out of print (she has some print copies available), the series will soon be out in electronic format. Ditto for her non-fiction book Dreams That Blister Sleep: A Nurse in Vietnam, based on the journal she kept and the photographs she took while serving in Vietnam. 

You can find more about Sharon and her books at http://www.wildwindauthor.com.