P is for Passion

Passion is a curious issue for the Hudson's Bay Company around the 1840s. For while the fur traders and officers of the Company had been marrying native and Metis women for many decades, such liaisons, once advantages to securing trade and having a helpmate familiar with the demands of living in the wilderness, suddenly were viewed as barriers to a man's advancement.

Sylvia Van Kirk's classic Many Tender Ties: Women in Fur-Trade Society, 1670-1870, shows pretty clearly how many native and Metis women were treated. A sharp contrast can be seen between two powerful men:  John McLoughlin and George Simpson.

Sir George Simpson
Source: Wikipedia

Sir George Simpson, a rather short man but all powerful Governor in Canada of the Hudson's Bay Company, had some 11 children by 7 different women, only one he married 'officially.' He referred to his native 'wives' as "bits of copper" (3), and instructed a friend to watch over his 'mistress', writing: "Pray keep an Eye on the commodity if she bring forth anything in proper time & of the right colour let them be taken care of . . . " 

Of Margaret Taylor, he wrote, "The commodity has been a great consolation to me" (Van Kirk 162-163). Margaret bore a second son in August, 1829, but in February 1830, Simpson at age 43, married his European cousin, Frances, age 18 (Van Kirk 185-187). 

The darker side of such passion, with some native and Metis women being abandoned, set examples for the next generations. For these women were at risk for unwanted, arranged marriages and rape. I'm not surprised that the children were at times hidden from their European fathers.

John McLoughlin
Source: Wikipedia

John McLoughlin, a tall, intimidating man, had been already criticized by Simpson for being too generous in helping US immigrants when they arrived at the strategically placed Fort Vancouver. McLoughlin married Marguerite Wadin McKay à la façon du pays (in the style of the country), when she had been abandoned by a Northwest Company officer in 1810 (Van Kirk, 121).  

But when Reverend Herbert Beaver came to Fort Vancouver in 1836, he sharply criticized such marriages, considering Marguerite a "kept mistress" and demanded the McLoughlins remarry within the Church of England. Instead, they chose to marry in a civil union. McLoughlin took a cane to the minister when his shocking insults did not cease (Van Kirk,155-157).

A writer's note: Sometimes my readers ask me why my stories don't always end with happily-ever-after. Real life shows that sometimes not even happy-for-now is possible. 

For further reading:

(1) Sylvia Van Kirk's study, Many Tender Ties, is a must read for understanding the scope and depth of how women were treated. Her frequent quotes from letters and journals of the time reveal the intense debate between those who sharply attacked country marriages and those  men and women who married and honored their vows.

(2) A fascinating summary of Hudson Bay Company treatment can be found at Women of the Fur Trade 1774-1821, that reports that between 1740-1760, marriage was prohibited because the Company feared the expense. The result? Officers often took many wives, sometimes as many as 5 or 6, perhaps because they were in for a penny, in for a pound. Why not?

(3) Brian Richardson's "The Quality of Friendship: Andrew McDermot and George Simpson" an article on Manitoba's History site) shows the complexity of the relationships between a fur trader and the all-powerful Governor of HBC.

O is for One-Pound-One

If I were traveling by canoe or York boat along the Saskatchewan River to Fort Edmonton in the 1840s, I would have been impressed by Rowand's Folly, a three-story house built for Chief Factor John Rowand. 

John Rowand (1787-1854), originally from Montreal, began working in the fur trade when he was 16 as an apprentice clerk. His passions? Hunting bison and riding horses. When he was 23, Rowand had a disastrous fall from a horse, resulting in a broken leg. He was rescued by a young Metis woman, Louise Umfreville. From that point, he walked with a limp, earning the nickname, "One-Pound-One."

Rowand contracted a 'country marriage' with Louise and was gifted a herd of horses as a dowry -- which added to his prestige among the Plains Indians. John and Louise remained together until her death in 1849.  He called Louise " . . . my old friend, the mother of all my children . . ." They had at least five children. 

John Rowand
Dictionary of Canadian Biography

John Rowand was a short, rather large man with an explosive temper, and was considered a strict taskmaster. A visiting priest tried to convince Rowand that one of his workers was sick. Rowand replied, "Any man who is not dead after three days sickness is not sick at all." It's no surprise that he died of a heart attack when he intervened in a fight between boat builders and voyageurs.  

One challenge in writing historical fiction that involves what Ken Follett calls historical personages is this: How do I capture the sense of this man, without knowing him?  

In my current work-in-progress, Rivers of Stone, John Rowand is a minor character as Paul Kane and Cat stop off for a few days at Fort Vancouver on their journey west. 

Here's a snippet as Kane and Cat attend a formal dance at Rowand's Folly, late in 1847:

   One of the voyageurs stumbled against Rowand's daughter, Marguerite, who was dressed in yellow silk trimmed with fur. Rowand shoved the man to the floor, nearly at Cat's feet. "You blackguard! Think you to despoil my precious daughter?"

   The music stopped. All eyes turned to Rowand.

   "There's no harm done, sir," called Kane.

   "Get that man out of here," hissed Rowand. "He needs a whipping."

   With a courtly bow, Kane approached Margaret Rowand and invited her to dance. He offered his hand and led her ceremoniously on the floor, somewhat dwarfed by her imposing size, for she mirrored her father in bulk. Yet no one laughed. Instead, they applauded the couple's graceful sway to the music. Cat sighed. When will I wear such a dress? She snorted. As if I ever did.

   She made her way out onto the open parade ground, leaving the noise of the party behind her. Above, a full moon appeared encircled with white. Cat felt as if she were in a small city, yet she knew outside the fort's palisade, they would face near a thousand miles of wilderness before they reached Fort Vancouver. She rubbed her face with her hands. One day at a time. Bend, don't break.

Rowand's Folly, Residence of Chief Factor at Fort Edmonton
Source (Wikipedia)
Click to see larger image.

This month, inspired by the April A to Z Blogging Challenge, I'm writing about the research for Rivers of Stone as I finish up final edits. Check out what others are writing HERE.  Only 11 letters to go!

N is for Naming those Characters

I have a few favorite strategies for coming up with names for my characters when the first few efforts don't sound quite right. 

Since we're halfway through April's A to Z Blogging Challenge, I'm changing pace just for today and hoping some of these will help you.

1. Use the first names that appeal to you. This is rather a short cut and may mean all your characters will wind up being called Amelia. I have to watch out for rhyming names. Sandy, Randy, Andy just don't play nicely together. But you may find unintended consequences. For example, the heroine of Rivers of Stone is named Catriona Brody, a good Scottish name, with Brody being fairly common in the Orkney Islands where she was born. But her nickname, Cat, also was slang for prostitute back in the 1840s.

2. Search baby names. This is kind of fun, especially if you are writing historical fiction, because you can also search for popular names by century or specific decade, as in "19th Century popular baby names." One site, the CT State Library also includes nicknames. One that caught my eye was 'Nabby' for Abigail.

3. Browse through genealogical sites, again useful for historical fiction, but these are real people who once lived, so sometimes I feel that using some of these names is too exploitive. But we could always mix and match. For Rivers of Stone, I needed names of voyageurs. Most useful? General searches on Google about the fur trade and skimming the indices of my research books. Family Tree Magazine lists 25 top sites for family history, a potential gold mine for names of people and places.

4. Look at street names when you're driving around. This is my personal favorite because I've been able to name hotels, characters, and towns from these very anonymous street signs. Even my quilting group contributed its name to my fictional Waterford Hotel.

Speaking of quilts, I don't quite have a quilt yet in Rivers of Stone, but I'm still looking. This site on Rocky Mountain Quilts looks interesting. Sadly, the exquisite Hawaiian quilts did not truly emerge until the 1870s, a little past my story's time frame. 

Gore Vidal once said, “Each writer is born with a repertory company in his head. Shakespeare has perhaps 20 players. … I have 10 or so, and that’s a lot. As you get older, you become more skillful at casting them.”
So, how do you come up with the names used in your stories?

Image found on Google
Widely used but not attributed.

M is for Mount St. Helens

When I first began writing Rivers of Stone, I was daydreaming about the connections between Hawaii and the Northwest Territory in the 1840s. We traveled along the Columbia River, discovered petroglyphs overlooking the river, and walked our feet off.


At this early point, I kept asking what did Hawaii and the Northwest Territory have in common? The answer -- volcanoes. Lava. 

USGS Photo of Mount St. Helens' Eruption
Source: Wikipedia

Mount St. Helens erupted on May 18, 1980, at 8:30 in the morning, just a few years before we moved to Oregon.

We visited Mount St. Helens on one of those memorable family vacations. Aunt Yetta hid under the blanket as we drove through the newly opened, one-way gravel roads. 

We stopped at overlooks, in awe at the sweep of the damage, the destruction and loss of lives. 

At the visitor's center, I spotted a small dark painting of something unexpected -- Paul Kane had captured a night eruption of Mount St. Helens when he traveled by canoe along the Columbia in the spring of 1847. 

Paul Kane, "Mount St. Helens Erupting at Night"
March 1847 (source: Wikipedia)

Kane's journals reveal that the volcano was not active when he stopped to sketch the volcano from a distance of about 30 miles, but as he drew the mountain, a great burst of white smoke blew out from the left side. Kane learned the volcano had exploded violently three years previously. Despite offerings of bribes, none of the Indians accompanying Kane would explore the mountain. 

I was fascinated by Paul Kane. Who was he? How did he get to the Northwest? How did people react to that eruption? And so the research began, and the title to my third book in the McDonnell series came along. Rivers of Stone. 

If you write, have natural catastropes influenced your stories?

Check out what others have written for the April A to Z Blogging Challenge HERE.

L is for Lane, Mary and Richard, and that twisting research lane we follow.

When Paul Kane traveled west to Fort Vancouver, the leader of the brigade was an Englishman named Richard Lane. Lane had been entrusted with not only the documents resolving the 1846 border dispute between Canada and the U.S., but also the infamous otter furs, an annual gift to the Russians to ensure trade.

Lane was relatively new to the Hudson's Bay Company, arriving at York Factory in June, 1838, and transferring down to Red River by September where he stayed as an accountant until 1845, some 7 years.  Sir George Simpson sent him next to Fort Vancouver, promising Lane he could return to Red River in 1846. Why?

These are the facts. But I'm having a harder time finding out the story behind these surface facts.

Lane did return to Red River in 1846 to marry Mary (Marie) McDermot, daughter of prominent trader Andrew McDermot and his wife Sara McNab, a Métis with whom he had 17 children.

Annie McDermot
Source: Destination Winnipeg
Click for larger view.

Mary, then 30, and Richard (also 30), then joined Kane's party to travel over the Rocky Mountains. They must have known each other in those years Richard Lane spent in Red River. Kane admired Mary's skill with snowshoes as they traveled over the Rocky Mountains, but, as far as I know, he did not paint her.

I did find some lovely stuff about their wedding for Mary's mother Sara loved to dance. Métis weddings could last several days of feasting and dancing. Paul Kane should have painted this (I'm imagining a Peter Bruegel type scene).

I did find a photograph of Annie McDermot (b. 1830), Mary's sister, who may give a sense of what Mary looked like as a young woman. 

Portrait of a Half-breed Cree Girl
Source: Kane's Wanderings of a Young Artist
Click for larger view.

Another side issue is how Europeans romanticized and yet exploited the Métis and native women they met as seen in this painting by Paul Kane of a young Metis woman he met at Fort Edmonton and later painted. 

Cunnewa-bum (whose name means 'She That Looks at Stars') holds a fan. Her innocent gaze, some critics say, suggests flirtation, but I don't see that, but her name is lost when retitled as "Portrait of a Half-breed Cree Girl" in Paul Kane's Wanderings of a Young Artist.

In my story, Rivers of Stone, would Paul Kane have recognized Catriona as a woman in the grubby boy who traveled with him, given his romantic vision of women?

Richard Lane's story ends sadly with alcoholism and suicide some 30 years after the death of Mary in 1851.

But in the 1840s, and possibly before, the Hudson's Bay Company echelon viewed marriages between Europeans and Métis or native women (in the style of the country) as impediments to future promotions. Some men put aside their country wives. John Hargrave admonished a colleague to wait, as he had done, and not undertake such a marriage. And some men (including Sir George Simpson) said nasty things about the women they loved and left behind in short-term liaisons. When those precious European wives arrived, they often lived in isolation, unwilling to include the native and Metis wives in their company. 

After probably two many hours of reading and research this morning, I found a sumptuous new book on Paul Kane by Arlene Gehmacher, Paul Kane: His Life and Works (available as a free PDF download).

Now, back to work on revising and editing Rivers of Stone. Tomorrow's entry for that April A to Z Blogging Challenge will be "M" for Mount St Helens. Now what would a volcanic eruption have to do with Rivers of Stone?

Check out what others have posted for A to Z HERE.

K is for Kane -- Paul Kane

Just how did I wind up including Canadian artist Paul Kane in my current historical novel, Rivers of Stone? 

In the early days of plotting a novel, ideas swirl around, and it's hard to tell who the heroine is and what the major conflicts will be, I had a sweet, young woman disguising herself as a boy to travel with her husband to the wilds of Canada. When they arrive at York Factory in Upper Manitoba, both are put to work, but Dougal is sent immediately to Fort Vancouver with the fur brigade express, while Catriona (Cat, for now, and still in disguise), is put to work at the trading post. 

Paul Kane was born in Ireland in 1810, but his parents moved to Toronto around 1822. He discovered his interest in painting early and patched together a living painting signs, furniture, and portraits. Finally, he was able to cover the costs of a trip to Europe to study the great masters. Unable to afford actual classes, Kane did what many artists do today; he copied originals. While in London, Kane ran into George Catlin, that famous American painter of Indians. Enamored of Catlin's tales of the West and his paintings, Kane decided this would be his driving ambition for the aboriginal peoples of Canada. 

When he returned to Canada, Kane met John Ballenden who then recommended Kane to Sir George Simpson, the head of the Hudson's Bay Company. 

Simpson commissioned a few paintings for his private collection and offered Kane carte blanche to travel to Fort Vancouver. Kane very nearly missed the first leg of the journey when the boat left early, but somehow, he caught up. The rest is history, a slew of gorgeous paintings that capture native life on the Plains and in the wild upcountry of Rupert's Land. 

Photograph of Paul Kane
about 1850 (Wikipedia)

Of course, historically speaking, Kane did not begin this journey until late 1846, in fact, a little late to be making that Rocky Mountain crossing. And there's my heroine, abandoned at York Factory in the fall of 1842.  How did she survive until 1846? Here's where plot twists begin. My only quibble is that I wanted Kane to be addicted to laudanum, but I can't quite bring myself to do that to a historical personage!

Paul Kane's Wanderings of an Artist Among the Indians of North America tracks his journey with much detail, organized by date, a fascinating read. He was quick to give a hand to his fellow travelers and equally slow to leave a spot he wished to sketch. Perhaps he needed an apprentice helper along the way, someone to organize and carry his art supplies.

Paul Kane's self-portrait,  
about 1845 (Wikipedia)

Compare the photograph of Paul Kane above with this self-portrait, painted sometime in 1845, rather closer to that time at the age of 36, he began his journey west.

You can read more in Diane Eaton and Sheila Urbanek's beautifully illustrated book, Paul Kane's Great Nor-West.

One of the great joys of writing historical fiction is the invitation to dive into the research of another time and somehow reconstruct the 'reality' of what it once was like. If you write, what role does research play for you?

Check out what others are posting for the April A to Z Blogging Challenge HERE.

J is for Just Another Poem and a Little about Jasper House

Outside the white choke cherry 
blossoms so full this year,
the branches dip down.
No wind,
no rain
to end their beauty. 
At least not today.
That's the lesson
of this season. 
New life is fragile,
as is old life,
and yet the seasons turn,
another spring of pink and white,
of strength in small things.
Everything is going to be all right.

Spring at Manito Park, Spokane (Camp)

I had planned to write about Jasper House today, a way station in what is now in Jasper National Park, Canada. Road construction prevented us from stopping at the actual site where no trace of the house remains, but we saw the mountains and encountered a snowstorm in August. 

Back in fur trading days, the brigades stopped at Jasper House to trade canoes and boats for pack horses on the trek across the Rockies.

In the 1840s, you might have met Colin Fraser here, a former bagpiper for Sir George Simpson, the head of the Hudson's Bay Company, who traveled across Canada to visit these far flung posts, and announced his arrival with a skirl of music. 

Fraser lived at Jasper House in a two-room cabin, one for all comers, and the other for his family, his Cree wife and nine children. Paul Kane visited here in 1847 on his trek to Fort Vancouver and "got an Indian" to make him a pair of snowshoes for the crossing of the Rockies. His words. I do not think he paid for the snowshoes with money, for Kane traveled very light. Maybe he exchanged a painting for them, for his gift was valued highly.

Paul Kane, "Sketch of Jasper House" 1847 (Source WikiArt)

Have you wondered what happened in the places you've visited in years gone past? One delight of writing historical fiction is digging into research.  Discover what others have written by visiting other blogs in this A to Z Blogging Challenge.

I is for Interview with Sue Eller, Cozy Mystery Writer Extraordinaire!

 After reading just the first paragraph of Meadowlark Madness by Sue Eller, I felt right at home, knowing I was in the hands of an excellent story-teller.

About the book: Just when overdue rent threatens to close the doors of Emily Trace’s E.T. Investigations, a new client arrives with an unusual concern (and a bundle of cash): The meadowlarks are missing! Willing to accept nearly any commission to keep the doors of her private eye business open, recently widowed Emily Trace is determined to prove that her husband’s death was not accidental.

What ensues is a riotous and eventually overlapping series of events, engaging characters that come to life, and a plot that mixes a cozy mystery with science fiction flair. 

After I finished reading Meadowlark Madness, I knew I wanted to talk with Sue Eller to find out just what motivated her as a writer. She graciously accepted. Welcome, Sue!

Why do you write? I love the creative process, and my imagination gets impatient if I don't let it out on a regular basis. Okay, I'll be a little more serious. When I hold a book in my hand - a book I created - it's a feeling that's like . . . well, I could say like a parent when they see their newborn child for the first time. I put my heart and soul into each of the books I have written, and I hope that perhaps someone will read one of them and it will change their life in some small way.

I have a whole drawer in my filing cabinet that is stuffed to overflowing with story ideas, outlines, and research on various subjects. I figured out that I will need to live to be 156 years old to complete them all and get them in print.

Who do I write for? Of course, I write for the immense pleasure I derive from telling some of the stories which are rattling around inside my head and bouncing off the inside walls of my cranial cavity.

I write for my friends and loved ones. Part of the joy is watching their faces as they read one of my creations. I can't be right there every minute, of course, but when they share a scene or character they especially liked, it makes it all worthwhile.

I also write to create some positive input. It's a point of pride that my books don't rely on sex or graphic violence or foul language to entice people to buy them. Yes, I know that it's not quite realistic, that the world has lost its innocence, but I want to provide a haven from the storm. And yes, I believe I can still tell an interesting, suspenseful story without all that stuff.

What advice would you give to a writer starting out today? I have actually talked to many people who tell me they want to write a book. The first thing I tell them is to get started. Then I tell them to find a good critique group, one where they feel comfortable sharing what they write. I tell them this is where they will hone their writing skills; and as a bonus, they will also make some very good, lifelong friends. Finally, associate with other writers. Follow some blogs, search on Facebook, WordPress, Google, or other internet resource. Go to some book signings in the area and introduce yourself to the author. "Seek out new life and new civilizations; boldly go . . . ." Sorry, my Star Trek Tourette’s Syndrome just kicked in.

What's next? The name of the next Emily Trace adventure is Send in the Drones. I haven't decided yet whether or not it will be the last tale I tell about our intrepid detective. I could liken it to Dr. Watson's dilemma on which tales about Sherlock to relate to the public, or I could pull my ego back to Earth and say I'll let the fans decide whether or not they want to hear more about Emily Trace and friends.

Thank you, Sue, for sharing your thoughts. I’ve already added your second book in the Trace series, Taming of the T-Bird, and think this will make its way to the top of my to-be-read stack pretty darn fast. 

Sue Eller
Web site: www.emilytracemysteries.com
E-mail: author@emilytracemysteries.com
Facebook: ww.facebook.com/booksbysueeller/
Twitter: @sue_eller

Sue’s books are available online (Amazon and Smashwords) and can be ordered at any book store. They’re also available at Hastings and Aunties in Spokane; Hastings in Coeur d'Alene, and Vanderford's Books in Sandpoint.

H is for Letitia Hargrave of York Factory

Why do people marry? Looking back to the 19th Century's fur trade era, many marriages (sometimes called liaisons) were made in the fashion of the country. Fur traders contracted with Native wives, honoring their wives and large families. Sometimes, like today, the marriage was a shambles, and the wife and children were abandoned. 

In the earliest days of the Hudson's Bay Company, such marriages were discouraged. But the benefits of having complex family relationships -- not only for companionship at isolated posts -- but connections to power brokers, the cousin of my cousin, were highly valued in the competitive fur trade. 

Around the 1840s, those Company officers and gentlemen began to import European wives, women with little experience of the wilderness that would surround them. 

Letitia Hargrave was an exception, for her uncle and three brothers were active in the fur trade. In 1837, She met James Hargrave, Chief Factor of York Factory, when he came to Scotland on a home visit. Their courtship was by mail. On his return, they married in 1840 and traveled to the hub of Hudson's Bay Company operations in Canada.

When Letitia Hargrave arrived at York Factory after nearly 3-1/2 months on the sailing vessel, Prince Rupert, she broke down in tears. Some think this may have been due to the isolation and wilderness at York Factory, but I found an article that suggests the rigors of the voyage led her to cry out of sheer joy the voyage had ended! 

I cannot imagine spending nearly 3 months being seasick on a rolling ship through storms and ice, and sharing a small cabin with three other women and several unnamed servants.  

George Back, watercolour, “An Iceberg, a Ship and Some Walrus near the Entrance of Hudson Strait,” dated c. 1840. Source: N. Jean Hall, Doing Canadian History.

York Factory was to be her home. She brought her maid and a piano. And she wrote letters to her family back home. Long, gossipy letters that captured the reality of living at York Factory that today offer a unique resource for understanding what life was like. In April 1841, her first child caused a sensation in the small community. In December 1842, she lost her second son. 

Truly, I don't know how I feel about Letitia. I admire her tenacity and deplore her strict social codes that ostracized some. Her insights about the people who were a part of York Factory are invaluable and help me answer what it must have been like to have lived then. Of course, most likely, I would have been one of the maids.

For further reading: Dictionary of Canadian Biography, article on sea travel, "Opportunities in Transit: HBC Ships as Sites of Social Process," and Norma J. Hall's encyclopedic resources on Doing Canadian History.  Letitia Hargrave's letters are available online through the Champlain Library (individual pages) HERE.

Writing historical fiction relies on research. Sometimes I get sidetracked by fascinating stories. This month, for the April 2016 A to Z Blogging Challenge, I'm writing a bit on the history behind my novel, Rivers of Stone (forthcoming 2016). The novel began when I discovered Hawaiian workers at Fort Vancouver in Washington and then read of a young girl who disguised herself as a man to work for the Hudson's Bay Company in the 19th Century.

Check out more than 1,800 CONTRIBUTORS for the A2Z Challenge HERE.

G is for Gambling -- 1840's Style

My daddy was a gambler back in the 1940's. He could fan a deck of cards and hold a few back without anyone knowing -- most of the time. He loved betting on the horses and took my sister and I once to the Santa Anita Racetrack. They lost their go-to money by the end of the second race. I came home with $20 because, as he put it, "I bet like a school teacher."

My daddy would have fit right into the outposts of the Hudson's Bay Company back in the 1840's. For leisure, everyone -- the fur traders, the voyageurs, the clerks, the Métis, and Native peoples -- liked to bet on the horses, on who would win a fight, or who would come in first in a canoe race or a foot race. Maybe because of all that testosterone and not quite enough women to go around. But that's a different issue.

I found a neat description of the traditional stick game played by Native peoples, also known as the 'bone game' or bloodless war game across the United States and Canada. 

Two teams, each with a leader, play a guessing game about the 'bones' (about 50 sticks marked with differing numbers of lines). The team holding the bones tries to distract the other side by making a racket with drums, traditional songs, or rattles. The opposing team tries to guess the exact number of lines. At stake? Furs, food, robes, bows and arrows, and any other item of value. 

Tsimishian Bag with 65 Inlaid Gambling Sticks, 19th century
Source: Wikipedia

Some research hints at the sacred nature of the stick game, but outsiders are not always privy to hidden meanings.

I was fascinated to learn that Lacrosse originated as a native game played by teams. This painting by George Caitlin (who later was so influential on Paul Kane's journey west) shows such a Lacrosse game in full play.

"Ball-play of the Choctaw — ball up" by George Catlin, circa 1846–1850 (Source Wikipedia)

Priests and missionaries considered such gambling sinful. But, truly, this is the tip of the iceberg as far as gambling goes. Imagine playing cards all day and all night on a cold winter night with little to keep warm -- except a beaver-lined jacket called a capote or wrapped in a Hudson's Bay blanket, and fueled by rum or brandy. 

I'm having fun talking about the research behind my historical novel, Rivers of Stone (currently at the editing stage), set largely in 1840's Canada. Why not check out what others are posting in this month-long A to Z Blogging Challenge.

F is for Forts of Hudson's Bay Company

Imagine you are a day laborer at a remote Hudson's Bay Company fort, an outpost in the wilderness during the fur trading era, far removed from any city luxuries of the time. 

C. W. Jeffreys, "The Descent of the Fraser River" (1808)
Source: Wikipedia

It's 1846, and around the bend comes a flotilla of canoes and boats at full paddle, the men singing loudly in French, the ribbons on their hats flying. They bring mail, those trade goods you ordered six months ago, visitors, perhaps a priest or missionary, and news of the outside world.

When we lived in Oregon, we visited Fort Vancouver fairly often, in the summers now, a living history museum that lovingly recreates what once was reality for many, complete with Chief Factor's house, outbuildings, the palisades enclosing the fort, period gardens, and the Village nearby, home to a motley crew of French, Scots, Sandwich Islanders, Chinook and Cree. 

Last summer, we traveled to Canada to visit Calgary, Banff and Jasper, and the highlight, Fort Edmonton. Canadian artist Paul Kane painted this romantic version of Fort Edmonton, perched on that glorious hill. But what an oasis in the wilderness, Fort Edmonton must have seemed, especially for those who visited Chief Factor John Rowand who built the Great House there, dubbed Rowand's Folly for its sheer size.

Paul Kane: Fort Edmonton on high ground
above the North Saskatchewan River, (Wikipedia)

I've dreamed of setting foot at far-flung York Factory, that outpost on Hudson's Bay itself, a land of nine months of winter and three months of mud and mosquitos. Did I mention polar bears? York Factory, today largely abandoned, is accessible by small airplane and guided tour. I've visited York Factory many times in my imagination, aided by internet resources, books, and the chatty, gossipy letters of Letitia Hargrave, wife of the Chief Factor there in the 1840s, so many years ago.

All these are folded into my current work-in-progress, Rivers of Stone, that tells the story of one woman's trek across Canada in the 1840s.

Meanwhile, check out what others are posting in this month-long A to Z Blogging Challenge. 

Deep in Revision? A Pantser? Try this!

Some folks do write without an outline. We're called 'pantsers' because we write from the seat of our pants. 

True, I feel guilty about being a pantser now and then. My DH thinks in a very structured manner; our discussions often require recognizing contributions from both logical and intuitive thinking. Perhaps how he thinks is finally starting to influence me -- either that or I've been influenced by reading posts about how organizing and outlining can improve writing productivity, which is one of my ongoing goals.

Picasso, "Boy with a Pipe"
1905, Rose Period (Wikipedia)

I've made a commitment to finish my current wip, Rivers of Stone, this year, and my draft is truly messy. One section of the draft was so messy, I despaired of ever finishing. 

What could I lose if I tried outlining? 

So, here's the process I used on one section of the draft, offered in the hopes it may help you, gentle reader.

STEP ONE: Reread the entire section you're working on. Set it aside overnight. The next morning, draft a messy working outline (without looking at the entire section) that describes briefly those scenes that MUST go into this section. Then, add scenes from your rough, rough section draft to your list of scenes. 

STEP TWO: Organize your list of scenes into chapter order (what needs to come first?). Keep the list simply worded, a variation of who, what, and where. Avoid adding why.

STEP 3: Revise descriptions into a chapter summary on the list (so you can always understand the ‘big’ picture – how A leads to B, how all the scenes fit together, and where key events support the overall story structure and character arcs.

STEP 4: Now use COPY and PASTE to reorganize the rough section draft so that the order of chapters now matches your  summary list.

STEP 5: If you are truly anal, copy chapter summaries from the summary list into each chapter in the rough, rough section draft. OK, I did this.

If you are a pantser, you can now write whichever scene appeals to your imagination. Or you can begin 'logically' at the beginning of this section to keep those threads together. Persevere.

NOTE: Before I begin editing, I copy the entire section draft (with the chapter summary list and new chapter headings) into a RESEARCH file, so that I have a backup. I now can easily delete any research notes, photos, and unwanted scenes from the actual draft I'm working on. 

Some people do this kind of organizing before they begin to write. Kudos to you if you write like this. What I learned from this process? The revision moves ahead with much less stress because I know where each scene belongs and how it affects my character development and story line.

Now you have it. My contribution to the April posts for the Insecure Writers Study Group, a great online community of writers started by Alex J. Cavanaugh. Check out their helpful resources and posts the first Wednesday of each month. Consider joining. May your own writing go well!   

E is for Excerpt

Today, E is for an excerpt from my current wip. I'm taking a bit of a break writing about the history surrounding my story, Rivers of Stone, about Catriona's continent wide search for her husband, Dougal. 

Set in the 1840s, Cat, disguised as a boy, has just traveled west with Canadian artist Paul Kane to Fort Vancouver where she hopes to find Dougal. 

The excerpt below is also part of Wednesday's WIPpet (a snippet from a work in progress, somehow based on the date) and is 10 paragraphs (April = 4 + today's date = 6). Key to this snippet is the fact that Cat remains disguised as a boy.


"I didn't recognize you," said Colin, peering at Cat in the dim light of the Company store.

"I'm not surprised. It's been a long time, almost three years." Cat straightened her shoulders.

Colin was taller than she remembered, with a ruddy face, new lines around his eyes, and a full beard. He no longer was scrawny, and his hands were work-scarred. A knife protruded from the red woven Metis belt wrapped tightly around his waist.

Colin squinted in the dim light of the trading post. "I see you still dress as . . ."

"Yes. No need to mention that."

"How did you come here?" asked Colin.

"I came out from York with the brigade." She searched for a welcome, but she couldn't read his face. "Paul Kane, a painter, hired me to be his assistant. He's with the Chief Factor just now.”

At Colin's nod, she continued. "We got in this morning."

"You look like you’ve been on the road. Yer pants are ready to fall apart. Does he know about you?"

"No, and I plan to keep it that way." Cat stared for a moment. She hadn’t expected to find her brother-in-law at Fort Vancouver. “Do you know where Dougal is? Is he well?”

And so revision continues. I'll be back tomorrow with a post on Fort Vancouver  for the A to Z Blogging Challenge. Meanwhile, the plot thickens.  Consider stopping by either of these challenges (links above) to see what other writers are up to.

Fort Vancouver, 1846 (Wikipedia)

D is for Dalles des Mortes

Maybe twenty summers back, I went whitewater river rafting, a three day trip down the Salmon and Snake Rivers. 

The roughly eighteen of us, plus three guides, loaded up with safety equipment, piled into those puffy little 3-man rubber boats, and were handed oars. We launched on the river, a large, flat supply boat behind us. Of course, we hit white water. We rowed furiously, shouted, and laughed. At night, we feasted, and, after telling stories around the campfire and watching the stars, we slept in tents. Allen and I talked in low voices. Would we survive another day?

I didn't consciously remember that trip when I began writing Rivers of Stone three years ago until I started reading about the approximate 4,000 miles the fur brigades traveled from York Factory in Upper Manitoba to Fort Vancouver on the Columbia River. By boat, canoe, horse, and snowshoe. Depending on the river, sometimes against the current. 

Paul Kane about 1850 (Wikipedia)

In 1846, Paul Kane, the Canadian artist, traveled with the west-bound fur brigade. After the long journey across the Canadian plains, stopping at Fort Edmonton, and crossing the Rockies, his party met with a contingent from Fort Vancouver at Boat Encampment. 

On November 16, they brushed snow off their boats to finish the last 1,200 miles. 

That day, they safely passed a stretch of the Columbia River nicknamed the Dalles de Mortes -- French for Falls of Death. On November 24, further down the Columbia at Grand Rapid, they lost a canoe, but no lives. Such deaths were fairly common, marked with a rough cross made of tree limbs. By December 8, they passed the most dangerous stretch of the Columbia and exchanged snow for rain as they neared Fort Vancouver.

Fort Vancouver with View of Mount Hood, 1855
Source: Wikipedia 

I was only on the Snake and Salmon Rivers for three days in the summer time. I remember paddling as hard as I could as our little rubber raft raced toward a solid wall of rock. Once, our raft overturned. I remember the taste of the water, the shock and relief as we were rescued.

I cannot imagine what it would have been like to travel across Canada and down through Washington Territory to Fort Vancouver, such a long journey, for over three months, safely past the Dalles des Mortes, only one among many such falls along the wild rivers the fur brigade traversed.

Read more about Kane's journey in his book, Paul Kane's Wanderings of an Artist or Diane Eaton and Sheila Urbanek's Paul Kane's Great Nor-West, or Isaac Cowie's classic, The Company of
Adventurers. 

Stop by the Blogging A to Z April Challenge to explore what others have written!

C is for Christmas and Class

Well, I certainly didn't expect to revisit Christmas this soon, but my intrepid gang of voyageurs arrived at Fort Vancouver on December 8, 1846, after a harrowing trip over the Rocky Mountains by foot and snowshoe in sometimes waist-deep snow. 

Paul Kane reports being thrilled to sleep in a bed once again. Despite the rain, the rest of the party must have been very grateful for food, drink, shelter, and companions as they settled in at Fort Vancouver. I lived several decades in Oregon and yet remember our first winter there when the incessant rain led us to feel we might drown.

Fort Vancouver 1845 (Wikipedia)

Fort Vancouver in 1846 was the center to the Hudson's Bay Company's Columbia Department. More than a fur trading center, Fort Vancouver shipped furs, lumber, agricultural products (including salted salmon), and other trade goods to ports as far flung as San Francisco, Sitka, Honolulu, and England.

Fort Vancouver also reflected sharp class distinctions between officers and gentlemen, craftsmen, voyageurs, and unskilled workers who were called 'servants'. Most were Metis, a mix of European, native, and Hawaiian heritages. They worked a 6-day week, and, to the chagrin of the Fort's priests and pastors, often preferred to work or garden on Sundays.  The 'servants' also received a weekly allotment of food, somewhere between 20-60 pounds of dried or salted salmon and a bushel of potatoes or 10 pounds of biscuit (1). No wonder they were motivated to cultivate their own gardens!

Each day began with a work bell rung at dawn. The bell rang again at 8 am for breakfast, at 1 pm for dinner, and at 6 pm to mark the end of the day. Holidays like Christmas represented a remarkable break in routine. Starting several days before Christmas until well after New Year's, all could expect extra rations of food and drink, for the 'servants' in 1845 called "rum and eatables," while the officers and gentlemen drank wine and ate roast beef and plum pudding (2). 

During the holidays, the officers and gentlemen dressed in their best to call on friends, play cards, attend balls, and card parties.  Even the visiting ship H.M.S. Modeste was decorated from stern to topsail with garlands of greens and the site of dancing, well lubricated with toasts. Servants celebrated with horse races, gambling, and their own parties. 

When the holidays ended after New Year's, life returned to normal. Long days. Hard work. Sharp divides between social classes. But I have a hunch folks then were pretty much as they are now -- and that's where the storytelling fills in the gaps.

Gentlemen's Dining Room at Fort Vancouver (Camp 2015)

Read what others are writing for the Blogging from A to Z April Challenge.

Read more at (1) Barb Kubik's paper on The Village, (2)  
Greg Shine's National Park Essay on Christmas at Fort Vancouver, Parts 1-2, or (3) Dr. Edward and Alice Beechert's 8-part study on History and Culture of Hawaiians in the PNW.