The Most Important Book You'll Ever Write

Then, Now and Forever-
One Book Leads to Another

I'm not going to show you my most important book. You've never heard of it. There is one editor who has, and he's actually still around as an editor, but I'm not going to name him. I'm hoping, you see, that he doesn't remember he ever saw it.

It was called A TIGER PURRING (isn't that clever? I certainly thought so at the time.) The time was 1993 and this was the first full-length novel I actually finished. I'd always given up before. I was such a lousy typist, you see, and all I had was a portable typewriter with a broken "e" key. Imagine typing even a sentence without an "e". Unfortunately even the repair guy gave up trying to fix it. And I had another life as a working single parent making barely enough money to keep us in a roof and clothes. It took so long to get even a short story typed that didn't look like a chicken had used the page for its dirty work that I just couldn't justify it.

Then in 1993, my son built me a computer. We had them at work, but shared in groups of eight people, and two guys in our unit wouldn't get out of the chair long enough to let the rest of us learn. I was fascinated with them, yet kind of terrified too. My son responded to my gratitude by saying, "This is so you'll leave mine alone." Well, all right, I was sort of getting attached to his.

So I started plotting my story. Had a great plan. The first three chapters went very smoothly. Then the plot started drifting because there were, well, a few things I hadn't thought of in the beginning, and I could already tell I was going to have to go back and change some things. I had the sense to at least make notes of those and keep on going.

About halfway through, I was convinced my mind was dissolving. I had all kinds of threads going, and my story was not all that complex. I'd lose one thread while working on another. A different one would suddenly become impossible. The tangle grew and grew, and I was close to panicking. But I couldn't quit. I kept untangling knots, re-working, and even completely re-writing some parts. And the plot shifted in a completely different direction. I researched more, found a new angle, wrote, wrote, and wrote, and my hero and heroine grew. In the middle of it all, new story ideas started popping into my head, demanding to be written. Afraid to let go of the current story, I jotted down the ideas and rushed back to find out why a Tiger would be Purring. Never mind that no tiger was ever mentioned in the book.

Finally I reached The End. And I knew it wasn't the end after all, but I was sure a second draft would take care of that. Proudly, I revised, twice even, and hey, you know, it looked pretty good. I sent it off to the unnamed editor, who I'd had the audacity to tell in my first editor interview, "I'm Delle Jacobs and I've never done anything like this before in my entire life."

Well, I found out it wasn't pretty good. Not horrible, but certainly not publishable, and the editor kindly pointed out that although it was shot through with inconsistencies and inaccuracies, he did see some real talent emerging. I re-read. He was right. And even more, I could tell the story was not salvageable as commercial fiction. It's still on my hard drive because I had the sense to convert it from my primitive word processing program to Word Perfect.


(By the way, one scene, re-written, did find a home in one of my best loved Regency Historicals, HIS MAJESTY, THE PRINCE OF TOADS, and most recently all that research I'd done on the Skeleton Coast of Namibia worked its way into my historical romantic sea fantasy SIREN, which is about to go out for submission next week.)

But I told you, this, my worst, most inexperienced, most primitive piece of fiction, is the most important book I've ever written. You must be wondering if I keep my marbles in a bag with a hole in the bottom. Maybe, but I'm right about this assertion. Here's why.

To begin with, the process of putting together something as complex and inter-woven as a full length novel re-wired my brain. I'd always been a multi-tasker, but something about going through this process gave me a new dimension. I'd learned something I might call Threading, a sort of process in which multiple linear lines can weave in and out of each other, always contributing to the whole. This was the point at which I became an author. Because my mind had become different. I thought and organized my thoughts in a wholly new way for me.

What I didn't know until later is, this is exactly what happens physiologically with drug addiction. The neurons get re-routed in the brain. No doubt, yes, I had also become addicted to the entire process. It was also true that every time I wrote a book, I went through the same physiological process a reader experiences, but on a more intense, more complex level, over a much longer time span.

That rather awful book was even more important in other ways. From its roots and the knowledge gained in writing it sprang the next book, and the next, and next. The creative process spawned more creative thought, new ideas for new books. The first book showed me how to organize a novel. Because it was imperfect, I learned the things I needed to know to make the next book perfect (so I thought). I researched for more accuracy and better writing skills. Each new book presented a new challenge, something I had to learn or overcome, or something new I didn't know if I could do.

That's all still true. The chain of books goes on. And none since the first one could have been written if I hadn't done the first one. It may dwell forever in Dust Bunny Heaven, but it will always be the most important book I'll ever write.

You can't have a best seller without first writing a book. And all best sellers began when the author sat down to write his first book.

The Queen's Court

Here's something I received today from a person who is very dear to me. We were sharing with some friends our sadness over the shallowness of friendships we had mistaken for something of depth, and learning we were not alone in our loss and grief.  She sent me this comment on her own pain, and I thought it sadly beautiful, and wise.

"Sometimes I stumble through the vast twisted forest of shoulds. I should make a bridge. I should fix this fence. As if relationships are sacred. Some just aren't. While I could take full responsibility for failing to tolerate abuse and that might permit me back into the Queen's Court, I know not to expect accountability from the Queen and I know the abuse will continue.

"What I cannot do is find the right words to convince the Queen that our values are equal, that I deserve to be treated with respect, that her "Off with her head!" method of relating might just be WRONG. So I stumble out, back into the harsh light of reality.

"I know the Queen has some amazing qualities. I know she has admirable traits. I know her existence has great value to me. However, I am powerless to change how she treats me and I have two choices, be her footstool or be separate from her. So this relationship remains sacred in a new way. I wish her well. I wish her happiness. I wish her love. I wish the same for me. We are bonded forever in my heart, but that is where the relationship begins and ends."

The Double Life of a Confederate Soldier

Benjamin Martin Braxton,
Confederate or Union Soldier?

I've been dabbling a bit in genealogy lately, trying to solve some of the puzzling stories about my family history, and instead I've come up with even more puzzles. Along the way, I re-connected with my cousin Della, and then discovered another more distant cousin Della. So now the three of us dream of meeting in Southern Mississippi-Alabama to research together, with me introducing us: "Hi, I'm Delle, and this is my cousin Della, and this is my other cousin Della."

But that's just an aside. I really want to tell you about our mutual puzzling ancestor, Benjamin Braxton, a man who appears to have led two lives and gotten away with it.

Years ago I overheard a visitor-possibly a relative- tell my mom and grandmom a story about an ancestor , a Confederate Army officer with a wife and child, who had disappeared in the war and was presumed dead. Years later his son had found his father living in Florida with a wife and several children, but when confronted, the man denied  having any family in Alabama. After the "son" returned home, his mother told him to just let it go because there were children involved. I remember the visitor showing Mom and Grandmom pictures, but I was sort of on the sidelines and didn't get to see them. I do remember them debating with my aunt and grandfather about what the real truth might be. And I remember that somehow this was all related to my great-grandmother, who was deceased by this time.

Fairly recently we all came upon a rpadblock in our ancestral hunts, and it was at this time the three of us found each other. It was all over a man named Benjamin Braxton. Then I remembered the strange visitor with the photos who had come to my grandmother's house. It looked to me like the two stories might represent the same person.

Martha Lambert, Ben's "real" wife

My two cousins Delle and I all confessed confusion over this man because we had so little information on Benjamin. Was the story true, or a family myth? Did he have two wives or one? At the same time? Was there a divorce? Was one of the marriages not legal? Was my great-grandmother really his daughter, since she wasn't listed on any of the census records of his family?

Then we discovered there were stories about Ben being a Union soldier. But there were also stories about him being a  Confederate soldier. Was he both? A deserter? A traitor? And  if he was also a bigamist--what was he thinking?

Della Y came up with some pictures and information that said he was a Confederate private, along with two of his brothers, as well as the photo of Benjamin in CSA uniform. Della N found our great-grandmother's death certificate that confirmed she had gone by the maiden name Braxton (that, too, had been in question). But she had also used the last name Lambert at one time.

Then I read something about a Union fort, Fort Barrancas, near Pensacola. I hadn't realized that parts of Florida had remained strong in Union sympathies. So I checked Union Army records on the internet. Also looked up Fort Barrancas and Fort Pensacola. There I found Benjamin and his two brothers, complete with a physical description. But they had all joined the 1st Cavalry of Fort Pensacola on the same day, surprisingly late in the war, December 31, 1863.

Margaret Lambert Braxton
Norton,  my g-g-grandmother

Benjamin Braxton, at 5'8", was the middle brother, and also in between in height, between his 5' 10" older brother and 5'4" younger one. He was dark skinned, black hair and brown eyes, where the two brothers were fair skinned, one with dark hair and yes and one a blue-eyed blond. Their parents had lived in Alabama but moved to that very wild Florida Peninsula area around 1851 when they received a land grant, when Ben was around 10-11 years old. On the map, the distance is barely 15-20 miles from Geneva, Alabama, where Mary Crowder lived, so some connection with the area would be within reason. On the Florida census rolls, Ben and his wife Martha Lambert Braxton married in 1866 and didn't have children till 1867.

But supposedly he married, using the name John William Braxton, in 1861 to Mary Crowder, and a son was born within a year, before Ben went off to war. Suspicious, huh? And another question formed. Was my g-grannie, born in 1866, illegitimate, possibly raised by her maternal grandparents, the Lamberts, perhaps? She used that name too, and apparently had come from Florida, but I don't know where. Was she Martha's child, or Mary's? Or maybe some other woman's?

Mary Crowder, Ben's supposed first wife

And the instant I saw his photo, I was confronted with yet another puzzle. My instant thought was, This man is Cherokee. He just plain looked Cherokee to me. I had been looking for a Native American ancestor, but he was my great-great-great grandfather, a Choctaw named Mihatima (real spelling and White Man's Name unknown). Benjamin's parents originated in Cherokee country, not Choctaw country, so it wouldn't be surprising if he were Cherokee, and Della Y says people often comment that she looks Native American. She bears a strong resemblance to Benjamin, and also his wife Martha who has that same high cheekboned flat face. Choctaws tend to have a more rounded face, like my grandmother, who was the last member of my family to be a member of the Mississippi Choctaw Nation. So why, if the family admits to an older Choctaw connection, wouldn't there be any mention of a newer Cherokee connection? Then again, maybe he wasn't Cherokee, or Native American at all.

We will probably never have all the pieces. But we did find a piece of Florida history that is very eye-opening. It seems Ben and his brothers were Confederate deserters. But they weren't the only ones. An entire group of North Florida residents deserted around the same time. Dale Cox, http://civilwarflorida.blogspot.com/2009/04/1st-and-2nd-cavalries-union-soldiers.html
a very thorough researcher of Florida during the Civil War, presented an enlightening blog on the development of the 1st Cavalry at the Union Fort at Pensacola.

Settlement was pretty new there, and the people were quite independent, mostly subsistence farmers. In 1863 the Confederate general in charge of supply had over-reached his bounds in Florida and had stripped local farms bare, leaving families to starve. The soldiers from that area had mostly been conscripted, including Ben and his brothers. With the newly established Union Fort Barrancas at Pensacola being so close, a system developed to guide deserting Southern soldiers through the swamps to the fort. Ben and his brothers are known to have escaped, supposedly one captured, but he must have got away again because all three signed on to the fort's rosters together. The Union didn't know quite what to do with all these men, but ended up with the brand new 1st Cavalry of Pensacola, which officially was in business on the last day of 1863. A fourth brother joined them in 1864.

So Ben really was in two opposing armies. But his reason for deserting now appears much stronger. He didn't have children then, and hadn't married his official wife yet, but he had strong relationships with his family of origin. And he seemed to be in the same situation as a lot of others who lived in his area.

Ben's Pension - which wife got it?

But had he been married to an Alabama woman in the early 1860s and produced a child? We don't know. Perhaps that child was really illegitimate. He isn't on any census records we've found with the supposed first wife, Mary, and child, John William Braxton. We can't find any marriage records. And Mary claimed at one time to be widowed and another to be divorced. But that sort of thing isn't unusual in old census and other records. Further, after Ben died, she tried to claim his Union Army pension. We don't think she succeeded, but can't find that info either. Where was Ben between 1861 and 1863? Did he really use an alias of John William Braxton, as Mary claimed? Was Ben sneaky? Was Mary hornswoggled? Was Ben just a jerk? Or maligned? Or do we simply not know the real story?

But the big question still looms: What was that man thinking? If you've got any ideas, the Della-Della-Delles would sure like to know.

Paty Jager: Blog Tour Stop #5

Paty Jager is my guest today, telling us all about her exciting new book, SPIRIT OF THE MOUNTAIN. She has an interesting puzzle and contest, which she's mentioned beneath her excerpt. Be sure to check it out. She's doing a bit of journeying today, but be sure to leave a comment and she'll get back to you.

Delle, Thank you for having me here today to talk about Spirit of the Mountain, a historical paranormal releasing this Friday the 13th!

This is the first book of a trilogy set among the Nez Perce of the Wallowa Valley in NE Oregon. I have sibling spirits and each one has their own story and how they fall in love with a mortal. I kept the day to day life of the Nimiipuu factual and inserted all the fun spirit stuff, which is only a figment of my imagination. While the Nez Perce did believe in spirits and the Creator, I have made up my own sense of how the Creator and the spirits in my books influenced the band and my characters.

Nez Perce were animists; They believed that everything in creation- animals, birds, fish, rocks, trees, stars, plants and all natural phenomena- had spirits or a supernatural side that appeared to humans in visions and could influence them for good or harm. I took this notion and brought good and bad spirits to life in my book. With this ingrained belief in their society it was easy to make my heroine believe in the hero when she sees him for the first time as a man and realizes he is the wolf she has been talking to about her fears.

Blurb for Spirit of the Mountain
Wren, the daughter of a Nimiipuu chief, has been fated to save her people ever since her vision quest. When a warrior from the enemy Blackleg tribe asks for her hand in marriage to bring peace between the tribes, her world is torn apart.

Himiin is the spirit of the mountain, custodian to all creatures including the Nimiipuu. As a white wolf he listens to Wren’s secret fears and loses his heart to the mortal maiden. Respecting her people’s beliefs, he cannot prevent her leaving the mountain with the Blackleg warrior.

When an evil spirit threatens Wren’s life, Himiin must leave the mountain to save her. But to leave the mountain means he’ll turn to smoke…

Excerpt
She knew not of this man. He was not from any of the Nimiipuu tribes. He would not have gone unnoticed. She had heard stories of a band with flaxen hair who lived before the coming of the horse in the area far beyond the River of Many Bends.
Could he be of that band? If so, why was he here, on this mountain?
“Come, Wren,” he bid in a deep, soothing voice.
She started forward at his command then stopped. How did he know her name?
Wren moved a foot backward to step into the trees and run if necessary. “How do you know me?”
“Your friend called you that.” His gaze never left her face. She stared into his eyes, recognition flashed, warming her to her toes.
His presence didn’t threaten her. It puzzled her. Why did he stand in the clearing where she met the wolf? She took a step forward.
“You are called?”
“Himiin,” he said with a slight tip of his head.
Wolf. She stared in disbelief. Was he the wolf?
She gazed into his eyes. The recognition she saw within the depths set her heart racing. How could he be? It was not possible.
“You have received bad news?” His light blue eyes turned a deep blue, showing her he was the wolf she sought.
But how could this be?
She took a step back, unsure of this man and the turmoil within. Her mind grasped at all the tales told by the elders around the winter campfires.
Many stories told of shape shifters and how they showed themselves to only a few. Could her wolf be a shape shifter? If so, could this be a sign about her future? Her heart thudded in her chest. If he truly was the wolf, he knew everything about her, and she knew nothing of him.
“How do you come to be both man and wolf?” Her father always told her she asked too many questions, but this seemed a very good time to ask many.
“I am the spirit of the mountain.” He shrugged.
“The creator has given me the ability to take many forms.”
“How is it you have come to me?” She took a step forward. The warmth of his voice and unguarded stance drew her.

Fifth Puzzle Piece

“You came to me. I merely tended my wounds, when you came upon me.”
She gulped in air and choked.
He was truly the wolf.

This is the fifth day of my six day blog tour that includes a puzzle and a prize. Copy the puzzle piece in this post to a document and collect all the pieces at the blogs I visit. Then when you have them all, send them to me at patyjag@gmail.com and I'll put your name in the drawing for a copy of Spirit of the Mountain and other goodies.  I'll draw the name and post it on my blog on Monday, August 16th. If you want to go back and check out all the blogs to join the contest, hop over to my blog and find the places I've been. http://www.patyjager.blogspot.com

If you'd like to read more about me and my books or enter my website contest go to: http://www.patyjager.net

Delle, Thanks for having me!

Paty

Blog Tour Contest Winner!

Well, life does have a way of side-swiping, doesn't it? I feel like I've been on the losing side of a 100 to 1 snowball fight. But things are doing better and I'm catching up.

Brandlwyne   # 6997
The winner of the glass necklace and ebook from 1Romance Ebooks! Fortunately for me this time, I actually have her contact information so I don't have to go hunting for it.

And for the others who posted comments on the blog, I will arrange a 50% gift coupon for any of my books on 1Romance EBooks. I am right now setting up my contact page again in such a way that the spam monsters can't find either you or me, and all you'll have to do is send me contact info through that.

Change in Blog Stop #31!

Blog Tourists: There's been a change in the next blog stop, #31. I couldn't get online to change my post or inform anyone, so I apologize for not getting the new URL posted, Here it is Author Raine Delight:
http://rainedelightbooknook.blogspot.com/2010/07/happy-anniversary-1romancecom.html

More later. moving on to the condo and joining visiting family. Happy Blog Tour, everyone!

Delle

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO 1ROMANCEEBOOKS.COM!

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO 1ROMANCEEBOOKS.COM!
(INTRODUCTION TO BLOG, INCLUDING LINK TO PREVIOUS BLOG) Thank you for my stop on the 1RomanceEbooks.com one year anniversary blog tour!

This is blog stop # 30, following  #29, J.M. Snyder, URL:  http://jmsnyder.com/
The link to the next stop will be found at the end of this post.

While this is not exactly the trip from Hell, it does have some of those characteristics. The Swan is a lovely hotel, but the room is problematic. Little things: We asked for a cot, and after many hours had a rollaway delivered when we were at dinner. But I am not very good as sleeping vertically, so I did request that somebody come back and place the bed parallel to the floor. Other little details along the same vein, yet the place is pleasant and nice at the same time. Naturally a personal family crisis had to hit at the same time and getting back home early doesn't seem to be a workable option.  On the bright side, the scary part of that has passed, and friends are stepping in to help out.

I'm actually writing this Tuesday night, in case I can't Wednesday night. Tomorrow I'll be meeting with about a hundred other authors who write Regency-set romances, with workshops aimed at historical information, improving writing skills, market and sales, and so on. And food. The food is spectacular. Tomorrow night, we'll have a "soiree" with a lot of us coming in Regency costume and performing real English country dances. Regency style gaming.  And food. More great food.

What I'm going to try to do tomorrow is take several photos and then just add them to what I've writter here. rather than try to re-write in the middle of the night when I finally get back to my room. But the very fact that I will be too exhausted to write anything  more should tell you what I great time I'm having!

As a prize I'm giving away 2 things: a copy of  winner's choice of any of my ebooks on 1RE- including the award-winner I'm going to put up after I get back home, HIS MAJESTY, THE PRINCE OF TOADS. In addition, there will be a beautiful hand-blown glass  necklace. And maybe, just for a whim, I'll add a little souvenir from Harry Potter-land or Disney World Depending on what I find.

Please leave a comment to enter the drawing to win!  Maybe a question about Disney World or something about writer's conferences or this special interest one which will be the day before the huge Romance Writers of America conference starts. In my spare time. I'll try to answer.

Yah, sure, you say.  Okay, just post your comments, then., and maybe you'll win the Grand Prize, the fabulous Sony Touch EReader. Remember: the more comments you leave on the tour, the better your chances of winning the grand prize.  
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The next stop on the anniversary tour is #31, Claire Thompson, URL:   http://clairethompsonauthor.blogspot.com/