Judy Nickles's Blog, page 2

Historical 'Fun' Fact or Human Tragedy?

     Bordello, bawdy house, brothel, whorehouse, house of ill repute, red light district. All the words conjure up the same image: a place where women sold themselves.
      A friend once observed (with a wink) that I seemed to have an inordinate interest in the subject. I do, but it's not the obvious (whatever that is). I grew up in a town once so notorious for the wild and wooly life centered around its saloons (and what was upstairs) that the frontier fort commander often forbade the men to cross the river to vsit it when on leave. As late as the 1930s, my father had an office in a hotel where everyone knew the business that flourished on a higher floor. In the auto finance business at the time, he and his father loaned money to one of the "girls" who promptly disappeared with the car. The madam came to see Daddy and suggested that, in the future, he should check with her before financing a vehicle for anyone in her employ. And, the next morning, he found the missing car parked at the curb. Daddy told the story tongue-in-cheek and with a rueful chuckle from the hindsight of age and experience. But he didn't really think it was funny.
      One of my mother's bridge buddies opened an antique store on the historic 'old town' street and conducted tours upstairs to where a bordello allegedly flourished until being shut down by law enforcement in the late 40s. Along the hall leading to a back door 'escape' over the roof of another building, hung bells to be rung when a raid was eminent. Growing up after WW II, I became familiar with the old homes, now boarding houses, which had been part of the 'red light district' serving the men from two bases located in the town.
      I knew the stories in general, but it wasn't until much later that I consider the 'actors' in those long-ago and not-so-long-ago dramas. Only seeing their faces--some young and vulnerable, some old and hardened--in books and framed in tourist attractions, did I come to understand the human drama which took place in those establishments devoted to pleasure for some and perhaps a living hell for others.
      My 2012 novel, The Face on Miss Fanny's Wall, sprang from such an encounter and light-bulb moment. It is a romantic suspense which in no way glorifies those days. I struggled with bringing it to life and, in some ways, did a bit of 'preaching and pontificating' about the subject--though not, I hope, to the detriment of the story.
     I suppose I tried to incorporate sayings (There but for the grace of God...) and scripture (Judge not...) while building a story around historical fact. You can decide for yourself when you read the first chapter and view the trailer.

Good News, Bad News, and Just Plain News

The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series continues to sell steadily. That's good news.

Royalty checks from The Wild Rose Press and Champagne Books point to an upsurge of sales for my traditionally-published books. I'm guessing this is related to Penelope's success. That's also good news.

My belief that there is an audience out there who wants a realistic-but-clean read has been validated. That's the best news of all.

The first book ( Meet Me Tonight in Dreamland) of the new Dreamland Series is finished and has gone for editing. More good news.

I'm two chapters into Book #2 ( Under the Silv'ry Moon) , and it's going slowly. Bad news.

Book #3( Come with the Love Light Shining) isn't even formally thought out yet. Bad, bad news.

For you younger readers, "Meet Me Tonight in Dreamland" is an OLD song now in the public domain. I love the lilting, free-flowing music and, yes, I even like the sappy lyrics. For how it sounded when it was charting #1 in 1910, listen to Henry Burr's rendition on YouTube.

For a little later version, here's Glen Gray and his Casa Loma Orchestra. Yes, yes, chickadees, I know you never heard of Glen Gray, but my parents had a cabinet full of his records when I was growing up. What are records, you ask? How do I explain. Just listen and enjoy!

And don't miss this one! Once upon a time, dancing was...

What's ahead at The Word Place? I'll be reintroducing you to The Face on Miss Fanny's Wall (Champagne Books, 2012).



When a young woman sets out to discover why her great-grandmother worked in a notorious bordello, she stumbles on secrets buried for years, but which, if resurrected, may bury her. Blurb     After recognizing her great-grandmother’s picture on the wall of a restored bordello-turned-museum, Tessa Steele sets out to track down exactly how Hallie became one of Miss Fanny’s ‘ladies’.  Threatening phone calls and letters warning her that Nosy little girls get into trouble become the least of her worries when she meets Sgt. Dale McCord, a state police officer investigating a series of so-called ‘hauntings’ at Miss Fanny’s.  Caught between her own curiosity about Miss Fanny’s and Dale’s disapproval, she goes ahead with her research. Each time she uncovers a new piece of information, she faces an even more sinister threat as well as Dale’s unexplained anger. She’s as determined to learn the truth as someone is to stop her. And Dale is determined to keep her alive—if he can.
  

Writing Conferences: What's Not to Love?

Writing conferences--what's not to love?

Several things, but let's start on a positive note. When writers get together to listen to/learn from knowledgeable speakers, ask questions, share ideas, visit one-on-one, exchange business cards, learn about other authors' books, commiserate about everything from finding a publisher to marketing--all those are good things.

After having more or less turned my back on writing conferences in general, I drove up at the last minute to attend the Northwest Arkansas Writers Conference on Saturday. What did I like about it? For one thing, it was free, although that's not necessarily a prerequisite to liking these get-togethers. There are, after all, expenses involved--a meeting room, refreshments, remuneration for speakers, and so on. I'm willing to pay a reasonable price and usually leave feeling I've gotten my money's worth.

But back to free--somehow that set the tone for a comfortably casual day. My book table was also free, and I shared it with another author (more on that later) and had the chance to visit with others nearby. Now, it's been my experience that books don't fly off the tables at these conferences, and that's not why I take mine. It's exposure. For example, I downloaded a couple of authors' books for Kindle after the conference, and hopefully some of the folks I had the chance to talk to did the same with mine. In contrast to a formal sit-down dinner, attendees had the option of a box lunch or bring-your-own.

Greg Camp and Casey Cowan of Oghma Creative Media covered a variety of topics during the morning. In the afternoon, Duke and Kimberly Pennell of Pen-L Publishing let us in on "the dirty little secret of writing" which is, "Writing is writing. Business is business." Finally, Velda Brotherton clued writers about how to become an overnight success in 20 years! Dusty Richards wound things up with Writing 101. All the presenters handed out good hard facts interspersed with humor and entertained questions during their presentations, giving the whole day an interactive touch.

I have to say, my faith in my fellow writers took an upward turn--which leads me to the negative side of (some) writing conferences.

Conferences longer than a day, maybe a day and a half, often (not always) become tedious. Some writers take more than their ideas, questions, and books with them; Mr. Ego sits at their tables and follows them around, dominating their conversations. There's a fine line between letting folks know where you are along the writing road and making sure they know you're ahead of them whether you are or not! Contests can be a good thing, but competition doesn't necessarily promote camaraderie. (Mr. Ego likes it, however.) Sometimes I get the feeling the chance of placing in a contest is the only reason some people attend.

Book tables are good for exposure, but I don't like staying with mine so much as mingling and meeting other authors. I don't take my books to make a killing, and being tied to a book table interferes with my main purpose for attending a conference.

So--in summation--I give the NWA Writers Conference five stars--and I'll be back next year!

Authors Blog ChainThe author with whom I shared a book table invited me to participate in the Author’s Blog Chain. Blanche Day Manos tagged me. Visit her blog at blanchedaymanos.com  Blanche Day Manos has written for many years and had numerous articles, children's stories, fiction, and poetry published in periodicals and newspapers. Her first two books, The Cemetery Club and Grave Shift, written with co-author Barbara Burgess, are cozy mysteries, as is her third book, Best Left Buried, due to be released within the year.

Pollyanna

    Encounter for good or ill      Lenore often accompanied Judge Sutherland into court, so she was knowledgeable of judicial proceedings and comfortable in that setting. Alan Ashley, however, was not. His barely-concealed anger on the first day of the lawsuit interfered with his carefully cultivated authoritative demeanor. That fueled the fires of his anger to burn even hotter.
     "Would you like to walk out and stretch a little?" Lenore asked during a recess at mid-morning.
     He jumped at the sound of her voice in his ear. "You startled me. Be kind enough to announce yourself before you speak."
     "I'm sorry, Mr. Ashley. I did tell you before we began that I was sitting next to you at the table." she hesitated. "I was thinking of going to the porch at the end of the corridor. Cortrooms are rather stuffy sometimes."
     "Yes, all right." He rose. "I'll have to take your arm."
     "Certainly." She offered a slender arm. "This way."
     "Perhaps you're wondering where my white cane is," he said abruptly as they exited the courtroom.
     "I didn't know you had one."
     "Every blind man has a white cane."
     "I see." She pushed open the door at the end of the hall. "We're at the porch. There isn't a step down."
     They moved outside into the warm autumn sunshine. "We're on the west side of the courthouse. Are you familiar with the large red brick building across the street?"
     "It's the bank," he said promptly. "My great-grandfather founded it."
     "So the Ashleys have been in Rumers Crossing for a long time."
     "Since before the Revolution."
     "How interesting."
     "Is it, really?"
     "Oh, yes, I love history. My father used to read aloud from A Child's History of the World when I was a little girl. I always wanted to travel and see the places he read about."
     "But you didn't."
     "Not yet, but I hope to someday."
     "Travel requires money."
     "Have you traveled widely?"
     "I spent six months on the continent before entering Harvard in 1913."
     "Is the Acropolis as magnificent as it appears in pictures?"
     "More so, actually."
     "I should love to stand there and soak it all in."  Lenore sighed. "The sun is nice this time of year, isn't it?"
     "A hard winter is predicted."
     "Yes, but until it comes, we have this lovely weather to enjoy."
     "Are you always so optimistic?"
     She laughed. "My brother Teddy calls me Pollyanna. That's the name of the title character in a children's book for girls, so I'm sure you're not familiar with her. She always looked for the good in everything.:
     "And you follow suit?"
     "Not always, Mr. Ashley, but I'm happier when I try to find some good in every circumstance."
    "I suppose you think I should try to find some good in my blindness?"
     "Not at all, but you have a great many advantages despite that, and Judge Sutherland  feels that this lawsuit will be thrown out."
     Sam Bernard put his head out the door. "It's almost time to reconvene," he said. "I'm going to find the facilities, Alan. Would you..."
     Alan dropped Lenore's arm. "Yes, thank you, Sam. I'm sure Miss Seldon would be mortified to lead me there."
     "Alan..."
     "Lenore smiled at Sam and shook her head to stall his defending her. When the men had gone, she closed her eyes and turned her face to the sun, breathing in its warmth.

Follow me here at The Word Place for more background blogs about Finding Papa's Shining StarThe Showboat AffairDancing with VelvetThe Face on Miss Fanny's Wall all coming soon.Visit Someday Is Here for more information about the Shining Star books and the others listed above.

Is he willing to fight?

PROLOGUEFrance


September, 1918
He remembered a flash of light. Blinding brilliance like the sun reflecting off the snow in the mountains where he’d skied with his college fraternity brothers. Searing heat. A burning more intense than he’d ever felt from the early afternoon sun on the sandy beach where he’d frolicked as a half-naked boy. He forced his eyes open in the light of midday, but there was nothing. The darkness, blacker than any he’d ever experienced, terrified him. His mouth felt full of cotton. “Water,” he begged hoarsely. “Please...in God’s name... water!” The tin cup pressed against his lips was warm, and so was the water that trickled onto his tongue. “Who is it?” “Rycroft, sir.”“The others?”“Dead.”“My God.” Shock gave way to pain. He groaned.“I thought you were, too, but then you moved. Rest easy, Captain Ashley. Help’s on the way.”****Brookston, New YorkNovember, 1918
She sat unmoving, her rigid back pressed against the wooden slats of her mother’s low sewing chair. Her father caressed her small, delicate hands. “I’m so sorry, Lenore. I wish I could tell you that it’s a mistake, but here’s the telegram Mrs. Broome sent over.”The young woman shook her head, gently at first, then so vigorously that her glossy black hair loosened from its pins and fell over her shoulders. “No. No!” She had been nineteen a few minutes ago when her father led her to the chair. Now, though she rocked her body rhythmically, reminiscent of her early childhood, her youth had fled.****Barnwell, TexasMay, 1920
“She’s a beautiful baby, Roberta. Just look at her.”“I don’t want her. I never wanted her! I thought I was going to die. The pain was terrible!”The man transferred his gaze from his new daughter to his wife. “Dr. Smithwick said you did very well.”“Dr. Smithwick wasn’t lying here being ripped apart, and neither were you.” The woman’sattractive face twisted in anger. “Roberta...”“Get out, Albert. Get out and take her with you. And send in the nurse.”He did as he was told. Cradling the infant in his arms, he walked into the nursery he had furnished alone and laid her in the white wicker bassinet. “You’re my best little girl, you know, my shining star. Never forget that, sweetheart. Never.”The doctor paused at the door. “She’s a fine, healthy girl, Rycroft. Your wife’s all right, too.”Albert Rycroft didn’t look up. “Thank you.”“I’ll be back tomorrow to check on both of them. Meanwhile, the nurse can handle things. Roberta says she doesn’t want to feed the baby.”“No, I’ll take care of it.”The doctor sighed. “Well, it would be better if...oh, maybe not. I don’t know. I’ll see you tomorrow.”He watched the new father bending over the cradle. “My beautiful little girl, my best little girl. You’re my shining star, you know. You’re Papa’s shining star.”****
Brookston, New York1921
Judge Amos Sutherland, recently retired from the New York State Supreme Court, turned the pages of the thick file on his desk as he contemplated his first case since returning to private practice. The will he had just finished reading for the second time was straightforward; the pending litigation seemed without merit. He had known Alan Ashley, Sr. and disliked him intensely. He wondered if the son, to whom everything had been left, was anything like the father, though it didn’t really matter. It was for Samuel Bernard, a former student and clerk, now counsel for the son, that he had agreed to serve as co-counsel when Ashley Senior’s nephews decided, belatedly, to contest the will. “I won’t argue the case for you,” he told the younger attorney. “Turning this over to me would be a clear admission that you don’t feel competent to represent your client.”“I don’t. Frankly, I’m terrified at the idea of going up against Trotham and Dunbar.”“All you have to do is prove your case.”“I’m not in their league. I didn’t even go to law school.”“You read law with me and passed the bar on your first try. Don’t sell yourself short, Samuel.”“I’m just being realistic.”“The will is straightforward. Everything belongs to the son.”“I know that, but they’re saying he can’t successfully assume the directorship of Ashley Enterprises because he’s blind.”“Can he?”“Of course. He studied business at Harvard and graduated summa cum laude, then took an advanced degree before enlisting in 1918. He’s spent the past two years at the Institute for the Blind, learning Braille and every other method that’s available for adapting to a sightless world.” Sam pounded his fist into his palm once, then again.“Is he as angry as you are?” The judge sat back in his cracked leather chair, his faded eyes boring into Sam’s.“I’m sorry. I lost control.”“Not a good thing to do, especially in the courtroom.”“I know, and to answer your question, yes. Yes, Alan’s angry about everything. His blindness, the fact that his fiancée broke their engagement because of it, how my father has betrayed him...and I don’t blame him.”“Perhaps not, but you’ll counsel him against displaying his emotions, won’t you?”“Yes, of course.”“All right. I’ve looked at the will. Now tell me why they think it can be broken almost ten years later, and how they plan to do it.” “Percy’s and Geordie’s father was Alan’s uncle and a partner in Ashley Enterprises until 1910, when he sold his interest to his brother. My father moved up as second-in-command. Two years later, when Mr. Ashley and his wife were killed, Father took charge because Alan was still in school. He was also Alan’s guardian. That was eight years ago. But he should have known that Alan would step up as soon as he could.”“Perhaps he didn’t want to know.”The quick mottling of Sam’s neck crept into his face. “My father has always liked being in charge of everything and everyone.”“He opposed your marriage, I understand.”“That’s putting it mildly.“But you married Ellen despite the opposition.”“I have no regrets. She’s everything to me.”“I’m pleased that you’re happy. Now about the cousins.”“Their father died two years after Alan’s parents, and they ran through their inheritance within a few years. Now they see an opportunity to recoup their fortunes. They told my father that if they were in charge, he could remain in the directorship, but they’d draw the lion’s share of the profits after expenses.”“Those profits are considerable?”“Ashley Enterprises is worth several million dollars—without the subsidiary holdings.”“How do you know?”“Alan requested the books when he came back, and Jerome Vannoy, the comptroller, thinking that Alan was going to step in immediately, produced them. Alan and I went over them carefully before my father found out and told Jerome to get them back.”“Were there any irregularities?”“I’m not an accountant, but they seemed in order to me.”“Tell me about Jerome Vannoy.”“He’s a few years older than Alan. In fact, they knew each other slightly at Harvard. Alan seems to think he’s honest. I suppose I trust him as much as I trust anyone at this point.”“So your father and the cousins are going after Alan on the grounds that he’s incompetent because of his disability.”“I don’t want it to come to trial for a number of reasons, among them the fact that it would be an additional humiliation for Alan, in view of everything he’s experienced already.”“I don’t think they have grounds to bring it to trial.”“Their attorneys, Trotham and Dunbar, seem to think so.”“Well, the legal-beagles will profit, in any case. What do they bill an hour?”“I couldn’t begin to guess. More than I do.” Sam ran his hand through his hair. “I really need your help.”“Young Mr. Ashley is willing to fight?”“To the death, he says.”“All right. I’ll speak with him. But remember, this is your case. Because of the Ashley name, it will get a great deal of notice all over the state. When you win it, your career will be assured.”“Don’t you mean if I win it?”“Unless these men know something we don’t, they haven’t a prayer.” He glanced at the young woman sitting a few feet away with her stenographer’s pad. “Did you get all of this, Miss Seldon?”“Yes, sir, I believe so.”“Make a typewritten copy and a carbon. I’ll want you to go with me to Rumers Crossing tomorrow. If your mother is concerned, assure her that Mrs. Sutherland will make a proper chaperone and that you won’t have time to get into any trouble.”Lenore Seldon’s normally pale face took on more color. “I’m sure Mother won’t have any concerns, sir. How long will we be there?”“A week, perhaps. I don’t think it’s going to take that long, but we’ll prepare for alleventualities.” He lifted his spare frame from the chair and addressed himself to Sam again. “Go back and tell young Mr. Ashley that he needs to decide on something for your father, whether it be a settlement or outright dismissal, and I’d advise you to learn whatever you can about where the loyalties of the others in the executive offices lie. If Ashley Enterprises needs to be restructured, it will fall to your friend to do it. He’ll need an independent audit of the books immediately. I’ll subpoena them if necessary.”“I can’t tell you what a relief this is, sir. I was in well over my head.”“Up to your eyebrows, perhaps, but not completely over your head.” The judge chuckled. “Don’t worry, Samuel. You were one of my brightest clerks on the court. I was sorry to lose you. Your practice is going well, I take it?”“Ellen grew up poor, so she knows how to manage. We aren’t starving.”“You’ll appreciate good times more, having experienced the lean ones.” He extended his hand. “All right. I’ll see you in Rumers Crossing tomorrow. There’s still only one hotel, I suppose.”“It’s not elegant, but you’ll be comfortable enough. I’ll make your reservations as soon as I get back this afternoon.”
TOMORROW:Alan and Lenore meet for the first time under less-than-optimal circumstances. Has he finally met his match in this quiet, unassuming young legal secretary?  FOLLOW ME HERE AT THE WORD PLACE FOR MORE TO COME, AND LEARN MORE ABOUT THE SHINING STAR SERIES AT SOMEDAY IS HERE. (FREEBIE ALERT AT THE END OF THE LINK!)

What is she hiding?

Meet Lenore Seldon
Interviewer's note:  Miss Seldon entered the room almost as if she were afraid of something. She is a slender woman, with pale, porcelain-like skin. She wears no makeup, and her dark hair is pulled back into a severe knot worn low on her neck. Her dark navy suit and white blouse are unadorned with any accessories. She might be attractive with some education in style. During the interview, she kept her eyes down, hands in her lap, and spoke almost too softly to be heard. It was difficult to know if her demeanor is due to her upbringing, which I understand was a most sheltered one, her desire to reflect a totally businesslike manner--or fear of something or someone unknown. TWP: Today we welcome Lenore Seldon, administrative assistant to Alan Ashley who was with us a few days ago. Tell us about yourself, Miss Seldon.
LS:  There’s not much to tell. I graduated from business school and worked ten years for retired Judge Arthur Sutherland until his death.
TWP:  Then you went to work for Alan Ashley, right?
LS: Not right away.
TWP:  Can you explain that?
LS:  I’d rather not. Those intervening years aren’t pleasant to remember.
TWP:  But now you have a good job.
LS:  Yes.
TWP:  What is it like to work for one of the most prominent entrepreneurs in America--and one of the wealthiest and most eligible bachelors?

LS:  I’m grateful for employment. So many don’t have work. The Depression, you know.
TWP:  Right, but back to Alan Ashley…he’s quite handsome—and very rich!
LS:  He’s my employer.
TWP:  Can’t he still be good-looking? Have there been other men in your life?
LS:  Not really. I was engaged briefly to the boy next door, but he died in France during the war.
TWP:  And Alan Ashley lost his eyesight in the same war.
LS:  Yes, but he manages very well.
TWP:  He says you’re a great help to him.
LS:  I do my best.
TWP:  Since you live in, you must spend a lot of time with him outside of the workplace.
LS:  I don’t know how it happened, but we have breakfast together and then dinner every night. Sometimes after dinner I read aloud to him, or we listen to music. But I’m well-chaperoned. His housekeeper Mrs. Swane lives in. And I’m going to get my own place when I get a bit ahead.
TWP:  He won’t like that.
LS:  It’s for the best.
TWP:  Is he easy to get along with?
LS:  For the most part. He still bears some bitterness about the loss of his sight…but mostly because it was the reason his fiancée broke their engagement.
TWP:  Have you met her?
LS:  Briefly. It was unpleasant to say the least. However, she’s very beautiful…very elegant.
TWP:  Do you see your working relationship with Alan Ashley transitioning into something more personal?
LS:  Oh, no, it can’t! I have…responsibilities.
TWP:  Can you share what those responsibilities are?
LS:  No. No, I can’t, and if he thinks this interview will get him the personal information I have a right to withhold…
TWP:  Nothing like that, but be honest. Aren’t you the least bit interested in him, woman to man?
LS:  I can’t be. You don’t understand. He’d never understand either. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me. I must transcribe some notes into Braille before his meeting tomorrow morning.
TWP:  All right. We understand. Thanks for stopping by.
Interviewer's Note:   In speaking with Miss Seldon's colleagues here at Ashley Enterprises, I learned she is respected as a hard worker and liked for her kindness to others. No one seemed to agree with my conclusion that she is secretive.Tomorrow:  Read the Prologue from  Where Is Papa's Shining Star?Don't forget to follow me here at The Word Place and also drop by Someday Is Here for more information on The Shining Star Series. There are...freebies...lurking about!

Keep going--we can't take care of our own!

Black TuesdayTuesday, October 29, 1929, marked the official beginning of the Great Depression when the stock market "crashed". Bank closings followed, and the suicide rate rose. Within a year, a cloud of despair and hopelessness had drifted across the country only ten years removed from 'the war to end all wars'.
Dust Bowl to New DealOn the Great Plains, drought and dust storms decimated family farms, and people packed up what they could carry and began to flood toward the west coast in hopes of jobs and a new start. Many people, especially teens, took to 'riding the rails', and hobo camps sprang up as well as Hoovervilles (named for then-President Herbert Hoover), shantytowns where folks tried to survive. Often these unwilling migrants walked past billboards advising them to "Keep going--we can't take care of our own." Soup kitchens tried to feed the hungry; back-door handouts became a way of life.

Then in 1932, Franklin Delano Roosevelt replaced Hoover and instituted the "New Deal" with work programs to stem the tide of unemployment. Still, it wasn't until the country geared up for a second war in 1941 that the cloud of Depression finally began to lift.


Enter Lenore Seldon Gently brought up and completely sheltered, Lenore Seldon expects to become a wife and mother until the boy next door dies in France. Her father directs her to business school, and after graduating, she becomes the personal secretary to retired state supreme court judge Amos Sutherland who later finds himself defending Alan Ashley's right to head his family's business.Despite his cynicism, Alan is drawn to the quiet young woman who accompanies Judge Sutherland to Rumers Crossing for the duration of the legal battle. In the flush of victory, he offers her a job at twice the salary. To his astonishment, she walks away.Ten years later, he finds himself astonished again when she walks into his study to interview for the job of personal assistant. Though he's made up his mind to hire a previous applicant, something in the weariness of her voice changes his mind. A casualty of the 'crash'Like so many, Lenore Seldon was a casualty of the economic nightmare which paralyzed a once-vibrant nation. And, like so many, she knew she had to do whatever necessary to survive. Alan Ashley dangled the job like a carrot, but he imposed certain conditions. Now Lenore had to make a decision--as well as keep the secrets accumulated since she had last seen Alan.
Tomorrow: Lenore guards her secrets, but reading between the lines of the interview may tell you what you need to know.
 LinksThe Great Depression

Images of life in America after the crash

The Dust Bowl

Riding the Rails

Hoovervilles

FDR's New Deal
Don't forget to follow this blog and visit Someday Is Here for more information on the Shining Star books.

The Bitter Fruits of War

Character Interview: Alan Ashley
TWP:  Thank you for making time in your schedule for The Word Place, Mr. Ashley.
AA:  What is it you’d like to talk about?
TWP: Now that the war is over, people seem to want to get back to business as usual, but for returning soldiers, especially those who have been wounded, it’s not that easy. Could you share your perspective with us?
AA:  My perspective on being blind?
TWP: Yes, if you don’t mind.
AA: It’s not something I like to talk about, but it’s an obvious handicap. Some people think because a man can’t see, he can’t think either.
TWP: But you’re head of Ashley Enterprises, the largest corporation in this region.
AA: Yes, I am. I lost my sight—not my education, which by the way includes an MBA from Harvard.
TWP: There were newspaper articles recently on some disagreement about who would be CEO of the company.
AA: My two cousins ran through their own inheritance and wanted mine. They thought it would be like taking candy from a baby, but the court sent them packing, and I took over as my father intended me to do. Our profits have risen steadily since then, and employee turnover has virtually stopped.
TWP: Did the government provide you with some training…so far as living in a sightless world?
AA: I had other injuries. (Removes his dark glasses) You can see the scarring from the shell explosion which left me blind. (Holds out his hands) And my hands. You don’t play catch with a shell, even if it’s a dud. I had some plastic surgery to repair the worst burn scars. Then I was offered a few months of vocational training. Vocational training! They wanted me to learn to cane chairs! So I used my own money to pay for eighteen months in a private facility where I learned to read Braille and to use a Braille writer.
TWP: I understand your engagement had just been announced when you went overseas, so you had to put off your marriage until you came home.
AA: There was no marriage! My fiancée informed me she couldn’t marry half a man. That’s how she sees me now—as half a man!
TWP:  I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a painful subject.
AA:   It’s over.
TWP:  You’ve moved back into the life you always meant to lead. Has it been more difficult for others you’ve known?
AA:  I had the advantage of money and social position, so I expect it’s been somewhat easier for me. I haven’t kept in touch with any of the men I knew over there or in the hospital here.
TWP: Is there a particular reason for that? I wonder if being with people who’ve had the same experiences might not make the transition easier.
AA: I’ve heard there are groups in some places, but I’m not interested, nor do I have time. I have a business to run.
TWP: You sound…excuse my bluntness…somewhat bitter.
AA: Bitter? You have no idea what you’re talking about! You’ll have to excuse me now. I have an appointment.~~
Links of Interest   BrailleAlphabet
Louis Braille 
Braille writers/accessories
National Federation of the Blind 
American Foundation for the Blind

National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped 
TomorrowIt's ten years later, and the Great Depression is ravaging the country and its populace. The last person Alan Ashely expects to see is the young legal secretary who turned down his job offer and disappeared from his life...and when she walks into his office, he knows he can't let her go a second time.
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Over There! Over There!

 

"The War to End All Wars" Europe had been at war for three years when in 1917 the U.S. 'doughboys' marched off to join them. Woodrow Wilson was president, and this was the war to 'make the world safe for democracy', the 'war to end all wars'. The patriotic mood enveloping most of the country was embodied in popular songs like Waltzing Matilda, Bless -'Em All, It's a Long Way to Tipperary, Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Oh! How I Hate to Get Up in the Morning, Keep the Home Fires Burning, Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag, There's a Long, Long Trail A-Winding, and You're in the Army Now. The bravery and confidence of the men was perhaps most embodied in George M. Cohan's Over There. (Hear the song as it was sung in 1917 by Nora Bayes.)
A World (Not) Made SafeOn November 11, 1918, hostilities ended. The day became known as "Armistice Day" and later "Veterans' Day". President Wilson went to France to sign the Treaty of Versailles, but a historian later predicted "This is not a peace. It is an armistice for twenty years". Over Here And so it was that the boys who had 'packed up their troubles in their old kit bags' came home from the trenches of France.  Limbs gone, faces shattered beyond recognition, lungs scorched by poison gas, and shell-shocked, they came home to a different world than the one they'd left behind. Plastic surgery and prosthetics had advanced since the Civil War but only so far. The government made provisions for rehabilitation but individual potential was limited.
Some provision was made for vocational training, and vets and disabled vets were often given preference in obtaining employment. The Veterans Bureau Act of 1921 combined various agencies to provide services to veterans. Other laws followed to address employment and disability pensions. 
But despite memorials and medals, the original groundswell of patriotism waned. "Johnny" had come marching home to "Julia" who'd kept the homefires burning, but life would never be the same.
Enter Alan AshleyHeir to Ashley Enterprises after the deaths of his parents on the Titanic , Alan Ashley was a child of privilege: prep school, Harvard, the creme-de-la-creme of society...until he met a shell that blew him into No Man's Land, leaving him permanently blind and scarred in body and soul. Back home after two grueling years of rehab in which he learned to dress and feed himself in the dark and to read Braille, he finds his fiancee unable to stay the course. "I can't marry half a man," she tells him. Then his profligate cousins see an opportunity to recoup their wasted inheritance and take him to court as unfit to take the helm of Ashley Enterprises. 
And that's just the beginning of the story! Hear it tomorrow in Alan Ashley's own words!
LinksSongs of World War IDoughboy Center
Tomorrow: The HomefrontDon't forget to follow The Word Place and visit Someday Is Here for more information on The Shining Star Books!

 

Coming Home from Many Wars

Next month here at The Word Place, I'll be taking some of my older books off the shelf, blowing away the dust, and letting you know they're still available and still a good clean fast-paced read.In 2008, I was fortunate enough to connect with the wonderful Wild Rose Press which took a chance on an unpublished author and brought out Where Is Papa's Shining Star? as well as it's sequel, Finding Papa's Shining Star. The terrific editor for both was Nan Swanson, and Rae Monet crafted an outstanding cover from the hodge-podge of images I threw at her.
But I won't be just doing "promo" for the book(s). There's a wealth of information out there about how the past repeats itself: specifically, soldiers have been coming home from wars for hundreds of years, and each new era has welcomed/assisted them in different ways. I'll be taking a look atsoldiers returning from World War I--what was available to help them make the transition in 1919 compared with what the military can expect todaya recounting of the infamous Bonus March on Washington, D.C. in 1932 when an noted American general led the rout against his ownan overview of the changes  for women on the Homefront, many of whom played a critical part in defense work as well as "keeping the home fires burning"links to sites expanding on the information mentioned above'interviews' with the pivotal characters--Alan Ashley and Leonore Seldon, one consumed with bitterness and the other with keeping secretsYou'll also get the full Prologue which sets the stage for the rest of the bookand finally, a sneak peak at the sequel, Finding Papa's Shining Star which catapults Alan and Lenore into yet another war--on the battlefield and in their hearts    Take a minute to read this blurb for Where Is Papa's Shining Star?      Wealthy Alan Ashley, blinded in World War I, returns home to face a challenge to his ability to run the family business. As the case goes to court, he finds himself drawn to the cheerful, ever-optimistic Lenore Seldon, his defense attorney’s secretary. When he wins his case, he offers her employment, but she declines and disappears from his life.

     Ten years later, frail and in desperate need of work, Lenore answers his ad for a personal assistant. He hires her with the agreement she will live in, chaperoned by his housekeeper, so she can drive for him, and he can teach her to use the Braille writer. She is the perfect employee, but he senses that she is frightened of something—or someone.
     When he finds himself falling in love with her, he must uncover her secrets in order to save their relationship---and to save her from herself. Now... Visit Someday Is Here  and click on the tab for The Shining Star Books to view book trailers and read more about this multi-generational romance spanning two world wars.
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See you tomorrow!