Hard Road South and The King's Oracle...safe travel through books

"Books" photo via Pixabay.com

Reading is a way to travel through time and space and never leave the safe harbor of our homes. And even though our country is slowly reopening to the new normal of mask-wearing social distancing, the Covid 19 pandemic still ravages the planet, and the number of related deaths in the United States has risen by nearly 100,000 more than I noted in my blog post, just two months ago. Thank goodness for books to "take us away!"

So, today, I'd like to introduce you to two wonderful new books I've recently read, from my publisher, Blue Ink Press. (You may remember that Blue Ink Press will be publishing my middle grade book, Zephyr Stone and the Moon Mist Ghost, in 2021.) Before reading my reviews of each book, below, I think it’s important to note that although historical fiction, Hard Road South by Scott Gates, and young adult fantasy, The King’s Oracle by Sherry Torgent are from completely disparate genres and target readership age groups, they both excel at voice, pacing, world building, and character development. Both books succeed in making the reader care about the characters and become emotionally invested in the outcome of the story and how it affects those characters.

Another element they have in common is the theme of a journey. Journeys can be geographical or spiritual or a combination of the two. In the best stories, the physical journey leads to spiritual growth, as it does in these two novels. And when I speak of spiritual, I refer to the core of the person on the journey. That which is home to, and a reflection of, their true selves, regardless of the physical vessels in which they are housed. Following, are my reviews for each book in the order in which I read them.

Hard Road South by Scott Gates 

 (Published by Blue Ink Press and available through Amazon  and independent book stores listed at IndieBound )

Hard Road South is historical fiction set in the era just after the end of the

Hard Road South by Scott Gates

American Civil War. On an April morning in 1869, former union solider, Solomon Dykes, leaves his Connecticut home, of which he has little to hold him, and begins his journey to a place that caught his heart and imagination during the American Civil War—the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. He doesn’t make it quite that far, but settles in Loudoun County, near Middleburg, Virginia. There, his life becomes entangled with a South struggling to recover, both physically and spiritually, from the ravages of war and that which drove the nation to civil war.

Jeb Mosby is a farmer living with his wife and his elderly father, a father whose mind and body, both, tend to wander. On their farm, just outside of Middleburg, Mosby coaxes crops from the rocky ground as his lovingly tends to the needs of his home and family. It’s one of his Pappy’s wandering spells that brings Solomon Dykes into Mosby’s corner of the world. An encounter that forever changes the life trajectory of both Mosby and Dykes.

Although written for an adult readership, it would be appreciated by young adult readers, as well. After all, high school-aged readers are not limited to reading books written specifically within the Young Adult genre. High school is where I discovered and devoured some of the great works of literature, from Shakespeare to Dostoevsky to Hemingway. Although parents have less influence over their teenaged children’s reading habits than they did when those offspring were younger, they can rest assured there is nothing, in this novel, that could be construed as inappropriate for younger readers. If it were a movie, I’d rate it PG-14 for subject matter and interest.

The story is told, primarily, from the points of view of its two main characters, Dykes and Mosby, with a smattering of chapters told from the viewpoints of minor characters. Each chapter is devoted to one POV at the time and skillfully captures the voice of the character in dialogue, thought, and action.

Scott Gates, author of Hard Road South

Scott Gates wisely sets the pace of the book to that of a gentle, but steady and unceasing, plow-driven mule. It perfectly matches the pace of the era and the reader easily slips into that 19^th century spirit, never boring, always pushing forward. The author seamlessly weaves in details of life in the 1860s, which add to the interest and credibility of the “historical” part of this historical fiction.

The King’s Oracle by Sherry Torgent

(Published by Blue Ink Press, available June 16, 2020 and may be pre-ordered through Amazon and independent book stores listed at IndieBound)

Set in an indeterminate time, the clothing, modes of travel, and weaponry give

The King's Oracle by Sherry Torgent

the novel’s setting a medieval quality. Because of a long-ago clash and disagreement among the civilization’s leaders, approximately half of its population (the Alrenians,) resides in the tree canopy, living and moving about by an intricate network of rope bridges and platforms, and the other half (the Uluns,) are earth-bound, attempting to survive on the ground, much of which was made toxic during a past event known as The Great Destruction, when fire rained down upon the earth.

Twenty-two-year-old Wynter is a member of the Alrenians, the people of the eagle, and, like her father before her, is a Transporter, whose job is to transport items from place to place among the branches. We first meet Wynter as she reluctantly and secretly takes the place of her cousin, Jack, as an escort for the Alrenian queen. What follows, tests not only Wynter’s ability to disguise herself as a man, but her ability to think on her feet when she finds those booted feet, not skittering among the Alrenian treetops, but planted firmly on the dangerous ground of the Uluns.

The other primary character is Gideon, heir apparent of the Ulus, the people of the wolf. Troubled by a disturbing and recurrent dream of interaction with the Alrenian queen, he seeks the counsel of the Ulun seer, a Merlin-like character named Gotz. As the future king tries to make sense of the dream-induced vision Gotz presents him, and how it plays into his destiny as leader of the Uluns, Wynter enters his world of ground-dwellers and an uneasy partnership of sorts emerges as they both attempt to do what is best for their people.

Sherry Torgent, author of The King's Oracle

I was privileged to receive a digital version of The King’s Oracle as an advanced reading copy (ARC) and have, since, pre-ordered a paper-printed edition of this intriguing novel. Call me old-fashioned, but when I truly enjoy a book, I long to hold it in my hands and give it a home on my bookshelf!

 Although it falls within the young adult genre, I believe it has crossover appeal to both older (11-12 year-old) middle grade readers and adult readers. Parents of older middle grade readers will find the subject matter and its treatment, entirely appropriate for that younger readership. Although, at twenty-two years old, the main character’s age falls beyond the common young adult genre’s teenaged protagonist, “the star of the show,” Wynter, has a youthful personality to which teen readers will relate. (I use the phrase “the star of the show,” because the book has a cinematic quality, which engages the reader and makes the book hard to put down.)

Although the majority of The King’s Oracle is told from the point of view of either Wynter or Gideon, the POV of a few other characters is also entwined throughout the book, with each chapter titled with the name of the character whose viewpoint is utilized in that section. By this method, the reader learns not only the thoughts and actions of the two main characters and their views of the world, but also becomes privy to the co-existing intrigue of other characters of which Wynter and Gideon are unaware.

There is just enough humor to buoy our spirits as the action moves swiftly along among forays into both realistic battle scenes and into the desires and sometimes confusing emotions of the human heart. Sherry Torgent has managed to weave together the look and feel of a long-ago time and far-away fantastical land with a fresh, contemporary voice that invites 21^st century readers to feel at home amid the strangeness.

I invite you to read more about the authors, Scott Gates and Sherry Torgent, at Blue Ink Press.

Thanks for stopping by. Ya'll come back, now! (And, please, stay safe and healthy out there.)
Kate

An 18th Century Halloween Treat, from our special guest blogger, Mr. Daniel Defoe (1660-1731)

"Daniel Defoe"  Unknown, in the style of Sir Godfrey Kneller 

Thanks to the miracle of the Internet, I am able to read and share with you fascinating though obscure literary treasures. The Project Gutenberg is an excellent source for reading these pieces in their original form and the one I present to you, today, is a ghost story written by Daniel Defoe (of Robinson Crusoe fame) telling of a ghostly encounter recounted to him by a Mrs. Bargrave in Canterbury, England in the year 1705. Defoe presents the tale as a true event though there is some speculation to the contrary. Judge for yourself after reading my following edited version or, better yet, read the original at:
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/36587
(Be sure to read the footnotes following my signature.)

Mr. Defoe tells us Mrs. Bargrave had not seen her friend, Mrs. Veal, for over 2 years and attributed her absence with the forgetfulness of a woman busy with her husband's new-found prosperity. Mrs. Bargrave is sitting alone in her home attending to her sewing-work when...

... she hears a knocking at the door. She went to see who was there, and this proved to be Mrs. Veal, her old friend, who was in a riding-habit. At that moment of time the clock struck twelve at noon...

"Henrietta Cavendish Hollles" by Sir Godfrey Kneller
(digital enhancement by K. Wood)

Madam, says Mrs. Bargrave, I am surprised to see you, you have been so long a stranger; but told her, she was glad to see her, and offered to salute her; which Mrs. Veal complied with, till their lips almost touched; and then Mrs. Veal drew her hand across her own eyes, and said, I am not very well; and so waived it. She told Mrs. Bargrave, she was going a journey, and had a great mind to see her first. But, says Mrs. Bargrave, how came you to take a journey alone? I am amazed at it, because I know you have a fond brother. Oh! says Mrs. Veal, I gave my brother the slip, and came away because I had so great a desire to see you before I took my journey. So Mrs. Bargrave went in with her, into another room within the first, and Mrs. Veal sat her down in an elbow-chair, in which Mrs. Bargrave was sitting when she heard Mrs. Veal knock. Then says Mrs. Veal, My dear friend, I am come to renew our old friendship again...

Then Mrs. Veal reminded Mrs. Bargrave of the many friendly offices she did her in former days, and much of the conversation they had with each other in the times of their adversity; what books they read, and what comfort, in particular, they received from Drelincourt's Book of Death, which was the best, she said, on that subject ever written... 

Says Mrs. Veal, Dear Mrs. Bargrave, if the eyes of our faith were as open as the eyes of our body, we should see numbers of angels about us for our guard. The notions we have of heaven now, are nothing like what it is, as Drelincourt says; therefore be comforted under your afflictions...

She would often draw her hand across her own eyes, and say, Mrs. Bargrave, do not you think I am mightily impaired by my fits? No, says Mrs. Bargrave, I think you look as well as ever I knew you... 

And to divert Mrs. Veal, as she thought, took hold of her gown-sleeve several times, and commended it. Mrs. Veal told her, it was a scowered silk (see my note below*), and newly made up...

She said to Mrs. Bargrave, she would have her write a letter to her brother, and tell him, she would have him give rings to such and such; and that there was a purse of gold in her cabinet, and that she would have two broad pieces given to her cousin Watson...

Photo by K. Wood

Then Mrs. Veal asked for Mrs. Bargrave's daughter; she said, she was not at home: But if you have a mind to see her, says Mrs. Bargrave, I'll send for her. Do, says Mrs. Veal. On which she left her, and went to a neighbour's to see for her; and by the time Mrs. Bargrave was returning, Mrs. Veal was got without the door in the street, in the face of the beast-market, on a Saturday, which is market-day, and stood ready to part, as soon as Mrs. Bargrave came to her. She asked her, why she was in such haste. She said she must be going, though perhaps she might not go her journey till Monday; and told Mrs. Bargrave, she hoped she should see her again at her cousin Watson's, before she went whither she was going. Then she said, she would take her leave of her, and walked from Mrs. Bargrave in her view, till a turning interrupted the sight of her, which was three quarters after one in the afternoon...

On Monday morning she sent a person to captain Watson's, to know if Mrs. Veal was there. They wondered at Mrs. Bargrave's inquiry; and sent her word, that she was not there, nor was expected. At this answer Mrs. Bargrave told the maid she had certainly mistook the name, or made some blunder. And though she was ill, she put on her hood, and went herself to captain Watson's though she knew none of the family, to see if Mrs. Veal was there or not. They said, they wondered at her asking, for that she had not been in town; they were sure, if she had, she would have been there. Says Mrs. Bargrave, I am sure she was with me on Saturday almost two hours. They said, it was impossible; for they must have seen her if she had. In comes Capt. Watson, while they were in dispute, and said, that Mrs. Veal was certainly dead, and her escutcheons (see my note below*) were making. This strangely surprised Mrs. Bargrave, when she sent to the person immediately who had the care of them, and found it true. Then she related the whole story to captain Watson's family, and what gown she had on, and how striped; and that Mrs. Veal told her, it was scowered. Then Mrs. Watson cried out, You have seen her indeed, for none knew, but Mrs. Veal and myself, that the gown was scowered. And Mrs. Watson owned, that she described the gown exactly: For, said she, I helped her to make it up. This Mrs. Watson blazed all about the town, and avouched the demonstration of the truth of Mrs. Bargrave's seeing Mrs. Veal's apparition.

Vintage Halloween Postcard

And so, dear Reader, I am sure you join me in saying, "Thank you, Mr. Defoe, for reaching to us beyond the grave to share this story with us!"

Happy Halloween to All!

Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now!

Kate

*Footnotes:

*Scowered silk is raw silk that has been put through a special washing to render it smooth and silky.

*Escutcheons are engravings such as family crests which I gather, in this case, were for Mrs. Veal's gravestone.

**Special (appropriately strange) Footnote regarding the 2 portraits I found to illustrate this post**
I found these portraits with separate Internet searches. Defoe's portrait I found in Wikipedia.org while searching for "Daniel Defoe" and the portrait of the woman wearing a riding habit (which looks a lot like striped, scowered silk to me) at http://jeannedepompadour.blogspot.com/ while searching for "Painting, 1705 Riding Habit." The odd thing is that both paintings are attributed to the same artist, Sir Godfrey Kneller (although the artist of this Defoe portrait hanging in the National Maritime Museum in London is officially unknown, it is listed as being in the style of Kneller.) Anyway...I thought it was a lovely, strange coincidence to share with you.

(Per the Project Gutenberg terms of use: "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org" )

http://seasnowhauntedlighthouse.com/
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15890071-sea-snow?from_search=true

A Haunting in Hanover, a true story for a Halloweenish digression

The Apotheosis of Penelope Boothby (1796) 

by Michele Benedetti after Henry Fuseli

As a change of pace from sharing my discoveries of 18th century life and in keeping with the season, I will share another true ghostly encounter experienced by my down-to-earth husband.

Several years ago when Bill lived in Hanover, Massachusetts and worked as a graphic designer, he had a part time office assistant named Mildred who worked off and on for him over a three year period of time. Mildred lived in town, about a quarter mile from Bill's residence, and often expressed her love of her home and the neighborhood. She experienced personal challenges and found great comfort in her home and the kindness of her neighbors.

Mildred was brokenhearted when her husband informed her that the company for which he worked was transferring him to Nashua, New Hampshire, about 70 miles away.  She decided she had no choice but to join him and, with great regret, packed up and moved away.  Their house sold quickly to new owners who pretty much kept to themselves. Occasionally, Mildred returned to Hanover to visit and would stop by Bill's office to see how things were going.

"Welcome to Hanover" By John Phelan (Own work) [CC-BY-3.0
(http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)],
 via Wikimedia Commons

About four years passed when, around 10:00 on a lovely autumn Sunday morning with golden light shining down on the brightly colored leaves, Bill drove from his house to a newsstand for his weekly ritual of purchasing the Sunday newspaper. His route took him by Mildred's former home and, to his surprise, he saw her out in the front yard raking leaves.  She looked up and they exchanged a wave and a smile as he passed by. He couldn't imagine what she was doing there, raking leaves in the current owner's yard, and when he came back by a few minutes later he planned to stop and chat with her.

When Bill reached the house, she was no longer in the yard. He looked in the driveway and only saw the current owner's car. Puzzled, he pulled up in front of the house and walked to the front door. Looking around for any sign of Mildred, he rang the doorbell and a man he had only seen a few times, but who Bill recognized as the homeowner, opened the door.

Bill answered his quizzical expression with his own question, "Hi, I'm a friend of Mildred's and when I drove by a few minutes ago, I noticed her raking leaves out in your front yard. Is she still here? I'd love to see her."

The man wrinkled his forehead, "Mildred?"

"Yes, you know, the woman you bought this house from."

The man shook his head and told Bill Mildred wasn't there. He hadn't seen her since he bought the place.

"I could have sworn it was her I just saw out there," he said, pointing to the front yard. "Is there another woman here who was doing yard work this morning?" 

"No," the man said beginning to look suspiciously at Bill. "No one's here today except me."

With that, he closed the door leaving Bill standing alone in complete bewilderment.

"Hanover Center Cemetary" By John Phelan (Own work) [CC-BY-3.0  

 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)],

 via Wikimedia Commons

Once he returned home he went about his usual Sunday morning routine but couldn't get the odd incident out of his head. Several hours later he received a phone call from a neighbor who asked if he had heard the news about Mildred.

"No," he said, and before he could tell her about his experience earlier in the day, she announced, "Well, she's dead! Poor dear was killed in a car accident around 10:00 this morning."

"Here?" Bill asked, "In Hanover?"

"Oh no," she replied, "right near her house in Nashua."

So, dear Reader, what do you make of that? Was Mildred making a quick, ghostly stopover to visit her beloved home one more time before she went...wherever she was going? To quote Shakespeare's Hamlet, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

"Hamlet, Horatio, Marcellus and the Ghost," 1796

by Robert Thew after Henry Fuseli

I'd love to hear your own ghost stories. Leave them as a comment, please, so we can all marvel at them.

Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now!

Kate

http://seasnowhauntedlighthouse.com/

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15890071-sea-snow?from_search=true

Ghosts of New Orleans, a personal experience

Both my first novel, Sea Snow- the gentle haunting of a 19th century lighthouse, and the novel on which I am currently working for my series, Time Shadow, involve ghosts of one kind or another. Actually the first one is about a ghost and the one I am writing now is about a spirit. You may think of these as one in the same but I think of a ghost as a spirit that is bound to a person or a place beyond their control and have no choice but to haunt said person or place until they have come to some kind of resolution of unfinished business. A spirit, on the other hand, is that part of ourselves that lives on beyond our physical lives and exists in a different plane of existence but who may, if they so choose, visit or interact with the physical realm. (Just my thoughts as they are at the moment. I am always open to evolving ideas.) 

I have had only one interaction with a spirit but my dear, down-to-earth husband has had several, one of which occurred when we were traveling around the country on a 33,000 mile journey pulling a 13 ft camper trailer from Virginia to Alaska and all parts in between. With his kind permission I will tell you what happened to us on November 1 (All Saints' Day,) 2011 as we camped just outside New Orleans in St Bernard State Park Campground.

 

We had just pulled into this lovely park and were setting up camp around 5:30 pm. All the campground staff members were gone by then so we picked our spot and placed our payment into the self-pay box provided for latecomers. The park only had a few of its many campsites filled so we were able to find a good spot, far enough away from other campers for privacy but not too far from the bathhouse. (Our usual criteria.) We had a nice, level campsite, one side facing the camp road and one facing a stand of young trees. Our two dogs and I were inside the camper, which we affectionately called "Lucy," as I undertook the usual reorganization of supplies necessary when we set up camp and performing that most important of tasks, making two cups of hot tea, while Bill did his usual outdoor chores of securing the trailer. One of the things he had to do each time there was a water supply available, was to hook up the water hose from the water source to the camper. This is a job he had performed hundreds of times before with ease. This time, however, he could not get the hose end to thread properly and he struggled to securely connect it to the fresh water connector on the camper.

 As he crouched by the trailer, his frustration mounting by the second, he felt someone approaching and looked back over his shoulder. There, standing about eight to ten feet away between two narrow tree trunks at the edge of the campsite, was a slender black man about 70 years of age, curly grey hair, gold-framed glasses enlarging his kindly eyes, dressed neatly in a long-sleeved blue cotton shirt buttoned up to the neck, khaki trousers and sneakers. (As a photographer, my husband is extremely observant with a great memory for detail.) The man was carrying a bright yellow water hose that trailed behind him and was smiling reassuringly at Bill, looking as though he were about to speak and offer assistance. At that moment, Bill felt the hose slip securely into its connection and turned his eyes back to the trailer. He immediately turned back to face the man and speak to him but there was no one there. He stood up and walked to the spot where the man had been standing and looked around through the trees, no trace of his existence. He walked quickly around the trailer and looked up and down the road, no one there at all. When he looked through the trailer's screen door to ask me if I'd just seen a man outside, his face was as white as a proverbial sheet. Later, he was talking to an older man who spent a lot of time camping at the park and broached the subject of apparitions in the area. The man replied, "Oh yeah, you know this whole parish was flooded after Katrina. There're hundreds of ghosts swimming around here." Bill asked a park ranger if anyone else had ever reported seeing anything like he had witnessed. The ranger said he wasn't at liberty to say but, in his words, "It wouldn't surprise me one bit."

As time goes on, I will relate other true ghostly encounters and I would love for you to share any experiences you have had.

Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now!

Kate

http://seasnowhauntedlighthouse.com/
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15890071-sea-snow?from_search=true

Photographs on today's blog are copyrighted by my husband, William Ahearn.

Welcome Readers, Curiosity Seekers and Pirates!

A cup of tea, a shaggy dog at my feet, and an old laptop warming my lap-- ready for the next adventure, sharing tantalizing tidbits I run across as a writer of supernatural/science/historical fiction. So glad you could join me on this journey! My plan is to write one post a week, The Wednesday Weekly you might call it. (Or the Wednesday Weirdness, or the Wednesday Wonderment, or...whatever you might decide to call it behind my virtual back or, even better, right out front by way of a comment. I would love to hear from you and welcome your thoughts. Sometimes I will put out a question for you to answer and look forward to reading your responses. So, here we go!

Currently, I am researching for my next novel which will be the first book in my Young Adult series, Time Shadow. No title for the book yet, so it goes by the working title of Shadow 1. It concerns a 16 year old girl living in the lovely old town of Edenton, North Carolina (my hometown) who is launched back to the year 1718 where she must solve a murder mystery that has a direct impact not only on her own personal happiness but on the future of the entire planet. Now, seeing as this begins in Edenton which is part of the Inner Banks (directly connected by the Albemarle Sound to the more well known Outer Banks) and seeing as Blackbeard the infamous pirate was known to inhabit the Inner Banks and seeing as he met his demise in November of 1718 on Ocracoke Island just 100 miles as the gull flies, it might be reasonable, dear Reader, to assume that Edward Teach AKA Blackbeard would play a part in the story. And, he does! I have uncovered many stories regarding Captain Teach, some more reliable than others, of course. One of the most fascinating resources is an account written in 1724 by a Captain Charles Johnson (although there is speculation that this was a pen name for Daniel DeFoe of Robinson Crusoe fame) entitled, A General History of the Pyrates . Don't you love old spellings? Be forewarned if you read his book yourself,  that "f's" were not only used as we use present-day "f''s" but sometimes also in place of "s's" we use today as in the following passage:

"Before he failed upon his Adventures, he marry'd a young Creature of about fixteen Years of Age, the Governor performing the Ceremony. As it is a Cuftom to marry here by a Prieft, fo it is there by a Magiftrate; and this, I have been informed, made Teach's fourteenth Wife, whereof, about a dozen might be ftill living."

(Spell-check was not at all amused by these 18th century spellings and persisted in slashing angry red lines under the offending "f" words.)

That "young creature of about sixteen years of age" was a plantation owner's daughter by the name of Mary Ormond and the governor performing the marriage ceremony in Bath, NC was none other than the governor of North Carolina, one Charles Eden. Hmmm...the governor, for which the town of Edenton was later named, consorting with pyrates? The plot thickens!

Photo from WITN.com

Blackbeard's sunken ship,  Queen Anne's Revenge, was discovered in November, 1996 just off Beaufort, North Carolina by a private research team. Since then, researchers from the North Carolina Department of Resources Underwater Archaeology Branch have recovered 17 cannons from the ship, 2 of which were brought up in the past month. Several more remain in the ship. Many other artifacts found in the wreck are on display at the NC Maritime Museum in Beaufort ( http://www.qaronline.org/exhibit ) and can be seen in a traveling exhibition at Edenton's 1767 Chowan Courthouse Sept 6 to Oct 19. I've heard that Blackbeard, himself, may pay a visit to Edenton during a special celebration Oct 11-12! ( http://www.visitedenton.com ) Now, that sounds like a hoot.

Have a good week dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now!

Kate
http://seasnowhauntedlighthouse.com/
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15890071-sea-snow?from_search=true