Showing posts with label historical fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label historical fiction. Show all posts
Writing groups are wonderful for convicting you of your writerly sin. You go along, thinking everything is A-OK, and then someone says something, the smallest little question, and it makes you think, hmmmm. I wonder ....
Lois did that for me the last time I was convicted of my writerly sin. It wasn't what Lois said -- it was what I read, and how my reading fell flat. And we both knew it. What was my sin? I broke the commandment of Thou shalt know thy characters inside and out.
Unfortunately, this is not one that Lois ever breaks. She has notebook upon notebook of character notes. (I'm exaggerating out of jealousy) When I presented my chapter on Delilah to her (Billie was absent on the night in question), at the end of the reading it was obvious that this Delilah was nowhere near the Delilah who had been the secondary character in my story. It was Delilah's turn to shine, and she was dull, dull, dull. Not what I'd intended in this character.
I drove home that night knowing I'd wasted hours and paper. What was the deal? Who was that goody two shoes I'd written a whole chapter about? And if I couldn't answer that question, who on earth could?
That was disturbing.
Two years, Teresa. Two years, and you don't know this character? What kind of a writer are you, anyway? (intuitive, I answered myself, not analytical) What's more, I started going down a list of my major characters, and there were two more I was drawing a blank on when I asked myself, what's their story? What are they like?
The next day I sat down with my laptop and thought, I'm not going anywhere until Delilah is grittier.
So, I thought about her behavior, all the ways she's reacted to my major character, Angeline. What makes her such a good person? Why is she SOOOOOOOO good? She is unfailingly modest, she's in love with a missionary, she's loving, compassionate, generous, etc., etc., etc.
So what's up with that?
Sometimes, when people are extreme in their behavior, they are reacting to something in their past.
So I began to think of what was opposite of her behavior, and presto! My fingers started flying over the keyboard. Delilah's backstory now is gritty but believable, and oh so common no matter what the century.
It's amazing how the story changes when you actually get to know your characters.
It's been plaguing me ever since beginning this daunting task -- what did a stockade look like, what did it smell like, what was it like to live there?
No problem. Just hit Google. Right?
Not hardly.
Well, maybe if I were talking about a generic stockade, the kind I picture when I think of the word. The kind of stockade that is synonymous with "fort". The kind I visited many times growing up in Texas. Fort Parker, for one.
However, the kind of stockade I'm writing about is different. I think.
Here's what I know for sure: 1) the stockades were built in the late 1830's in Georgia, Alabama, North Carolina and Tennessee to temporarily house the Cherokees and other tribes who were being removed to the west in 1838 and 1839.
2)They no longer exist.
3)There are scanty recollections of life inside the stockades from survivors via diary entries or oral histories (these are more often told by survivors' children). However, because the time period inside the stockade was a short compared to the vast and more traumatic experience of the Trail of Tears, little info really comes out through these sources.
Unfortunately for me, a lot of my story takes places within those stockade walls.
So I'm faced with a decision, as a writer: do I make things up, based on the knowledge I have? Call it "artistic liberty"? I'm really not comfortable doing that.
At the same time, I can't allow my writing to come to a grinding halt because I don't know whether every person within the stockade was allowed to have a blanket or not. Or because I don't know how the campsites were laid out within the stockades -- a neat little grid, or mass of humanity? Were the Cherokees allowed to have knives? That's important to know for my birthing scene.
However -- today I happened upon the Georgia Trail of Tears website, where I saw that Dr. Sarah Hill has done extensive research in locating where the stockades once stood in Georgia. I downloaded her report and it was very helpful (and mind-boggling!) as to what the stockades looked like, how many Cherokees might have filled their walls, how long they stayed, and an idea of what the supplies were. Now as to who received those supplies, the army or the Cherokees, is another question.
I'm hopeful now that some of my questions might find answers!
Labels: 1838, army, Cherokees, Dr. Sarah Hill, Georgia Trail of Tears, historical fiction, stockades, supplies, writing
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