Janalyn Voigt's Blog, page 27
October 9, 2012
Travel Journal: Sam Hill’s Stonehenge
Mt. Hood from Columbia Gorge @Janalyn Voigt
The buffeting wind countered the warmth of summer as I slipped into shadow. This was a momentary stop, a diversion on a long day of driving from Emigrant Springs in Oregon’s Blue Mountains in the east to Astoria on the Pacific coast. Above me lofty heads lifted against a blue sky. Whispering of a forgotten past, of a time when young men went off to war, they circled me, stone upon stone, Stonehenge revisited, but more. There, etched on a plaque, names recalled Klickitat County’s fallen sons, heroes from World War I. Beyond it the blue waters of the Columbia slid on their way to the sea and golden hillsides slumbered below a distant snow-peaked mountain.
Sam Hill’s Stonehenge © Janalyn Voigt
You would think this was the English countryside, where ancient stones stand, but Sam Hill’s Stonehenge Memorial, a tribute to Klickitat County’s fallen World War I soldiers, rises on a hillside above the Columbia gorge in Washington state.
Sam Hill, a millionaire businessman and Quaker, built this model as a full-scale replica of the original Stonehenge in Wiltshire, England. The Stonehenge Memorial lies four miles east of the Maryhill Museum at the site of the original Maryhill townsite. On a bluff a short distance away Sam Hill’s crypt overlooks the Columbia.
Stonehenge Memorial © Janalyn Voigt
“… Hill was mistakenly informed that the original Stonehenge had been used as a sacrificial site, and thus constructed the replica to remind us that ”humanity is still being sacrificed to the god of war.” …” (Maryhill Museum Website, 2006)
I turned to go. It was time to move on Fort Stevens State Park, where a family reunion and an even more poignant remnant from the past awaited me. More on that next week.
DawnSinger Giveaway Drawing:
There is currently a giveaway drawing for a free copy of DawnSinger on Goodreads.
The High Queen is dying… At the royal summons, Shae mounts a wingabeast and soars through the air to the high hold of Faeraven, where all is not as it seems. Visions warn her of danger, and a dark soul touches hers in the night. When she encounters an attractive but disturbing musician, her wayward heart awakens. But then there is Kai, a guardian of Faeraven and of Shae. Secrets bind him to her, and her safety lies at the center of every decision he makes. On a desperate journey fraught with peril and the unknown, they battle warlike garns, waevens, ferocious raptors, and the wraiths of their own regrets. Yet, they must endure the campaign long enough to release the DawnKing—and the salvation he offers—into a divided land. To prevail, each must learn that sometimes victory comes only through surrender.
Purchase DawnSinger
Paperback: DawnSinger (Tales of Faeraven)
Kindle: DawnSinger (Tales of Faeraven)
©2012 Janalyn Voigt
September 27, 2012
Travel Journal: End of a Very Long Day
Journey by Night
The door swayed inward and a rush of air assaulted me with the odor of vomit. With a filthy carpet, exposed plumbing, and doubtful window locks, the hotel room pretty thoroughly matched its scent. I could thankfully, as one young member of our family suggested, have slept on the sidewalk, but we would not sleep here. I surrendered to the group decision with regret since (for obvious reasons) this was the last available hotel room in Mountain Home.
We’d have to drive on to Boise. Barreling down the highway in the tunnel of illumination from my car’s headlights in the small hours appealed to me only marginally more than sleeping in that bed.
One of our family members, being a night owl, was still awake. At his wife’s call, he told us to just drive and he’d figure out a place for us to stay. True to his word, he located a comfortable hotel and even prepaid so all we’d have to do is pick up keys. Crisis averted, and that husband elevated himself to hero status.
We checked in at 2 am so the next morning slept in, especially since the long drive had shortened the distance to Emigrant Springs, where we’d rented another cabin. This time we arrived by daylight and found a welcome message at the gate beside our names. Key codes for the door locks had already been emailed to us, so it was only a matter of locating my charming cabin and opening the door. Emigrant Springs proved a true rest that fed our souls.
Emigrant Springs Cabin ©Janalyn Voigt
Near the summit of the Blue Mountains, Emigrant Springs was a popular camp for Oregon Trail emigrants. It seemed fitting to halt our journey where other pioneers had found comfort and rest after arduous travel. Tomorrow would bring its share of challenges and adventures, but for now birds flitted in sunlight and a freshening breeze wafted through the trees.
Purchase DawnSinger
Paperback: DawnSinger (Tales of Faeraven)
Kindle: DawnSinger (Tales of Faeraven)
DawnSinger Giveaway DrawingsThere are currently two giveaway drawings for DawnSinger at the following addresses:
©2012 Janalyn Voigt
September 16, 2012
Travel Journal: Middle of a Very Long Day
Bonneville Sat Flats © Janalyn Voigt
I suppose a town with a casino should be called Jackpot. This one was, anyway.
Since Flagstaff my cash reserve had dwindled, and it was time to replenish my supply. Loath to pay an ATM fee, I asked at the grocery if I could get cash back but was told I needed to go to the casino and use the ATM. It was also time to attend more personal matters, but the grocery store apparently had no public restroom. I asked where I might find one.
The casino.
I’d crossed salt flats and desolate stretches of desert without trepidation, but entering that casino daunted me. With tangled hair, red eyes, and coffee-stained clothing, I felt and looked like a refugee from a dust storm.
A couple in evening dress entered the casino by double glass doors. I slunk in behind them and slipped through the dark interior. A woman I passed gave me a pitying smile, or so it seemed. Inside the tiled bathroom awaited all the self-dispensing appointments of luxury. The long mirror above the sinks glared at me.
I didn’t belong here.
When I emerged, shivering in the air conditioning, I stumbled upon an ATM, withdrew enough money to complete the trip, and made a beeline for the exit. It was only as a wave of heat from the parking lot hit me that I realized what I had just done.
My husband, who had flown home from Flagstaff, has a bunch of initials behind his name to say he manages money for other people. He also watches over our bank accounts pretty diligently. Next time he checked online, he’d see a withdrawal of several hundred dollars from the casino in Jackpot, Nevada.
John would know a casino is not my scene but I had to smile.
Sunset Through Car Window © Z Voigt
Jackpot dwindled into the distance behind the car, and we wound through hill country, farms, and the occasional town or city. Sunset splashed colors across the sky, but we were still hours from our destination. Besides starting the drive late, we’d experienced delays twice due to road construction. We’d also stopped to wade in the Great Salt Lake, feed a teenage boy, and purchase groceries. We reached Three Mile Crossing State Park, where we’d reserved cabins, around 10 PM by my car clock but it was really 11 since we’d crossed into Mountain Time.
The park gatehouse was abandoned, and there were no instructions or even a map waiting for us. The family member who had made the reservations pulled over just ahead and rolled down her window. I drew parallel and, stopping in the deserted road beside her car, stabbed a button to roll down my own window.
“We could be in trouble.” She waved a sheet of paper. “This says that late arrivals are supposed to call ahead to arrange key pick-up.”
After another circuit of the park, we located the campsite host’s trailer and tapped at the door. No response. It was by now 11:30 Mountain Time.
As crickets chirruped and bugs swarmed in the headlights, I faced the truth.
We were in trouble.
TO BE CONTINUED
Purchase DawnSinger
Paperback: DawnSinger (Tales of Faeraven)
Kindle: DawnSinger (Tales of Faeraven)
DawnSinger Giveaway DrawingsThere are currently two giveaway drawings for DawnSinger at the following addresses:
©2012 Janalyn Voigt
September 8, 2012
Travel Journal: The Start of a Very Long Day
Misty Isle in the Great Salt Lake © Janalyn Voigt
“It’s impossible!” A young member of our family shouted with a laugh.
I smiled at his boyish exuberance and at the memory of my own childhood failure to sink in the Great Salt Lake, a remnant of prehistoric lake that had once covered much of what is now the Great Basin, including stretches of Utah, Nevada, and Idaho. At its largest, Lake Bonneville had plunged more than 1,000 feet deep and spread across more than 19,691 square miles, which made it almost as large as but much deeper than present-day Lake Michigan. Lake Bonneville eventually receded, in part due to its breaking through a natural dam at Idaho’s Red Rock Pass to cause the Bonneville Flood and also because of climate changes. The Great Salt Lake, Utah Lake, Sevier Lake, Rush Lake, Little Salt Lake and the 30,000-acre Bonneville Salt Flats are all that’s left of Lake Bonneville today.
Great Salt Lake © Janalyn Voigt
Batting at persistent brine flies, I waded through the lapping water. Seagulls wheeled overhead and on the sandy beach an overturned rowboat awaited its owner. With sharp rocks over a solid stone lake bed underfoot, to spare my bare feet I had to pick my way with care. How strange to be able to walk so far from shore. No fish lived in these waters due to their salinity, but in the clear water tiny brine shrimp teemed. Seagulls and other waterfowl floated nearby and exotic feathered creatures winged across the sky. The Great Salt Lake has resisted attempts at development, and so its salt marshes remain as an important bird habitat.
Brine Flies at the Great Salt Lake © Janalyn Voigt
I wouldn’t submerge myself today, although heat pulsated downward from the sun and upward from the water. This would only be a brief stop. We’d slept in to recover from the effects of the mammoth traffic jam we’d encountered the day before, and then unthinkingly taken time to swim in the hotel pool. It was close to noon, and we had many miles to drive before we reached Three Mile Crossing State Park in Idaho, our destination.
After rinsing off the already-crusting salt in a hose provided for that purpose, our little convoy set out eastward. Today we needed to cover ground. With mostly salt marshes or salt flats on either hand, there were few stops to be made anyway, and as the road arrowed endlessly toward the receding horizon, I fought sleepiness.
Bonneville Salt Flat © Janalyn Voigt
Finally, we pulled into a rest stop, and the children ran ahead of the adults into the salt flats. Wind had been shoving at the car for miles now, but meeting its force face-to-face was breathtaking. I pulled up the hood of my windbreaker and followed after the children, as eager as they to touch, to smell, to taste the snowy substance on the ground. Putting from my mind thoughts of dogs and yellow snow, I made sure to find a pure-white crystal to place on my tongue. It was more mellow than I expected, being less sharp than mineral salt and more like sea salt I prefer.
Bonneville Salt Flat Detail © Janalyn Voigt
With the wind up and miles to go before sleeping, it was time to move on.
Purchase DawnSinger
Paperback: DawnSinger (Tales of Faeraven)
Kindle: DawnSinger (Tales of Faeraven)
DawnSinger Giveaway DrawingsThere are currently three giveaway drawings for DawnSinger at the following addresses:
©2012 Janalyn Voigt
August 30, 2012
Travel Journal: Strange Bedfellows
Sky Above the Painted Desert ©Janalyn Voigt
One constant on my recent road trip was the presence of lightning. It crackled in the air near Nevada’s Area 51 when I stopped to fuel my car, lending strangeness to an already-strange landscape. It arced overhead, striking from cloud-to-cloud on the north rim and lit the tent wall for hours as thunder boomed at the south rim. As we explored the Petrified Forest and Painted Desert, and then moved on to Bryce Canyon, tongues of lightning licked the earth just ahead.
With lightning often comes rain. Free car washes came intermittently, never worse than the storm we drove into on the last stretch before Bryce Canyon.
Thankfully, the storm abated long enough for us to unroll our sleeping bags in the night’s unusual lodging. We were a party of eight, which turned out to be best since the teepee, which normally sleeps ten, leaked at the edges. Oddly, the center hole didn’t let in water. I slept directly below and only felt a slight mist on my face once or twice.
Our teepee for the night ©Janalyn Voigt
Inside our teepee ©Janalyn Voigt
It took a while to quiet excited children but once everyone was settled, we all had a wonderful night’s sleep. I pondered the thought that the hard ground and the strange bedfellows of thunder and lightning seemed to suit me better than soft hotel beds and air conditioner fans. Perhaps I was weary from the long drive.
We covered many miles each day on this leg of the trip but made time to take in the beauty of Bryce Canyon.
Bryce Canyon Natural Bridge ©Janalyn Voigt
Crow Posing at Bryce Canyon ©Janalyn Voigt
The long hours of driving took a toll on us, the children becoming quarrelsome, the adults irritable. We endured the worst traffic jam I’ve experienced in my life (and I lived in the San Francisco Bay Area) south of Salt Lake City. At least one, possibly two, accidents were to blame. I’d intended to post another segment to my blog that night, but by the time we reached our hotel in the Utah town of Bountiful my head ached and my back hurt from having to shift, clutch, and brake for hours. Even the children were ready to turn in early.
With my muscles tensed from driving, I spent a restless night. This fact would come back to visit me later in what would turn out to be a very long day.
©2012 Janalyn Voigt
August 17, 2012
Announcing the Grand Prize Giveaway and Blog Tour (Win a $25 Starbucks Card & Signed Copy of DawnSinger)
ISBN:
978-1-61116-199-1
978-1-61116-200-4
Pages: 342 pgs
Publisher:
Harbourlight Books
(Pelican Book Group)
Paperback: $16.99
Kindle: $4.99
Grand Prize Blog TourVisit one of the blogs participating in DawnSinger’s Grand Prize Blog Tour and comment to enter before August 23rd for a chance to win a $25 Starbucks card and an autographed copy of DawnSinger.
Lesley Ann McDaniel: Real Life, Pure Fiction
Karen Jordan BLESSED Legacy Stories
Books, Books, Books: Pits or Pearls?
Plus a Second Blog Tour with More Chances to Win a Free Copy of DawnSinger
Each blog will offer the giveaway of one free copy of DawnSinger (winner’s choice of format). Stop by and enter at each blog for more chances to win. Here’s the upcoming schedule:August 17th: Read Winged Horses and Wingabeasts, my guest post for Christian Fantasy Writer in which I compare the wingabeasts in DawnSinger with the winged horse of Greek mythology.
August 18th: On Novel Rocket, I ask and answer: What if Your Dream Means You Buck the Odds?
August 19th: On Family Education Services, look for educator Sarah Gunning Moser’s review of DawnSinger.
August 20th: I describe DawnSinger’s journey to publication on Stories Touched by the Supernatural.
August 22nd: I tell a similar story on The Writing Kraft.
August 24th: Magical Ink will run my tongue-in-cheek interview with Shae, the heroine of DawnSinger.
August 26th: New Author’s Fellowship will run my guest post on the inspiration for DawnSinger and how it reached publication.
August 27th: We’re still working out the details, but there will either be a guest post or interview on Scita Scienda.
August 28th: Christy-award winner Jill Williamson will interview me on Jill Williamson: Where Adventure Comes to Life.
August 29th: Author Delia Latham will run my guest post on the ups and downs of my writing career on Living the Write Life.
August 30th: In a guest post for One Another Living, I describe how Walt Disney gained a wide audience and how writers can use Disney’s techniques to do the same.
©2012 Janalyn Voigt
August 16, 2012
Travel Journal: One Big Hole in the Ground
Las Vegas From Space
Astronaut photograph ISS026-E-6255 was acquired on November 30, 2010, with a Nikon D3S digital camera using an 180 mm lens, and is provided by the ISS Crew Earth Observations experiment and Image Science & Analysis Laboratory, Johnson Space Center. http://visibleearth.nasa.gov/view.php?id=47687
A young member of our family expressed his reluctance to visit our main destination by calling it “just a big hole in the ground.” Those of us who had seen the Grand Canyon smiled at one another and made no response.
Before leaving Las Vegas, where more family members flew in to join us, we drove down the famous strip. Among other things, there was a depiction of Camelot, dinosaur statues, and even a building of glass that shone golden in the sun. We stopped to explore the Luxor. More an experience than a hotel, the Luxor is shaped like a sphynx and pyramid. Besides hotel rooms it contains giant Egyptian statues, fountains, a food court, shopping mall, restaurants, and probably more than I had time to take in. We dined at an Irish pub where the waitress asked, “And what will yourself be having?” She leaned a little too close to my husband, John, and called him “Darlin’.” I’d already noticed men turning their heads to watch the women of our party. Although a roller coaster wound through Camelot, this was after all “Sin City.”
We didn’t see the strip lighted at night, but images taken from the international space station show Las Vegas as the brightest place on earth. Within that bright city, the strip shines with greatest force. These images literally show light that is lost in space, and therefore wasted. Since I prefer my nights dark, I was a little relieved when we left the big city for the long, hot drive to the north rim of the Grand Canyon. Along the way we encountered a thunderstorm and even drove beneath arcing lightning at a place called, appropriately enough, 2-mile wash. Inquisitive creature that I am, I wondered how the voltage of a single lightning bolt compared to the luminosity of Las Vegas.
We drove out of the storm and through miles of wilderness where deer herds grazed in misty meadows. We ‘d lingered so long in Las Vegas we worried about getting our tents up before dark, so we didn’t stop to take photos, but I managed to catch a decent photo of the forest by rolling down the car window as the car slowed.
Grand Canyon Forest © Janalyn Voigt
W set up our tents in the dark.
In the morning it was time to explore that big hole in the ground and rearrange the thinking of a jaded young traveler. We hiked to Bright Angel Point in the heat, but the stunning views were worth the effort.
Grand Canyon Path to Bright Angel Point © Janalyn Voigt
Grand Canyon North Rim Beauty © Janalyn Voigt
North Rim Grand Canyon © Janalyn Voigt
John pointed out a power line impossibly strung from the north rim down into the canyon. This puzzled us until he figured out that it must supply energy to the North Rim lodge from Hoover Dam. We puzzled over how such a feat had been accomplished and ventured various theories from use of a crane to the wire being hand-carried through the canyon.
We spent the night huddled in our tent, which we’d moved to the south rim, as thunder shook the ground and lightning flared above the thin fabric separating us from the storm’s fury. We weathered the night without getting wet, but others of our party weren’t so fortunate. More views compensated for our wild night.
Grand Canyon with Colorado River Bends © Janalyn Voigt
Grand Canyon South Rim Switchback Path for the Daring © Janalyn Voigt
Grand Canyon South Rim Contours © Janalyn Voigt
The force that created the Grand Canyon, the Colorado river, still threads through the canyon, but now Hoover Dam regulates its flow, directing once-untamed waters to create energy–energy to power Las Vegas.
Purchase DawnSinger
Paperback: DawnSinger (Tales of Faeraven)
Kindle: DawnSinger (Tales of Faeraven)
©2012 Janalyn Voigt
August 7, 2012
Travel Journal: Ghost Town In the Shadow of the Sierra Nevadas
Road to Bodie
The wild west town of Bodie had such a notorious reputation that a little girl whose family moved from San Francisco to Bodie is said to have written in her diary: Goodbye God, I’m going to Bodie. Built on gold, liquor, opium dens and houses of ill repute, Bodie was renowned for its lawlessness.
These days visitors fight nothing more sinister than heat, dust, and the wild and wooly access road. A stretch of dirt and gravel winds over sagebrush-studded hillsides, verging several drops before coming to rest at Bodie.
This ghost town at its peak boasted 10,000 inhabitants. Shops, mills and houses dot the hillsides and line both sides of streets in the town proper. Now a handful of rangers and crowds of the curious occupy Bodie, which is preserved in a state of arrested decay.
Tattered lace sways in invisible currents at wooden windows scoured bone-dry by sun and wind. Wallpaper peels from walls to expose bare wood and hangs like ghostly cobwebs from ceilings. Metal pipes, a mining cart, wagons and other artifacts lay strewn about in no apparent order. The effect is of a town abandoned in haste.
There is evidence of beauty here, despite the lurid facts of life in Bodie. I became fascinated with the artistry of doors and windows. There was a school and even a church. Despite its unfortunate history, someone cared enough to at least try to make Bodie a home.
I paused before leaving to capture the image of a seagull that had strayed far from the sea. There it sat, perched on the church’s bell tower. As I turned away, the moment struck me as oddly poetic. In this shrine to man’s lust and avarice, nature now reigns.
Window with tattered lace
Peeling Wallpaper
Me in front of a door to nowhere
Gentlemen’s Club
Seagull atop Church Tower
DawnSinger, by Janalyn Voigt
©2012 Janalyn Voigt
August 2, 2012
Travel Journal: Road to Yosemite
The treacherous mountain road was the stuff of nightmares. The car in front, already crawling, slowed for a turn so quickly that it took me by surprise. I hit the brake but forgot to clutch since I’m still adapting to driving my husband’s 5-speed versus my automatic. The car stalled and the automatic steering locked just as I hit the turn. Below lay a deadly drop. By instinct, I pressed the accelerator and the engine roared back to life. The steering wheel begrudgingly responded. I swung close to the edge but took the turn.
The whole thing happened so quickly I had no time to respond emotionally until afterwards. With my heart thudding, I sent up a prayer for wisdom in handling my vehicle. What if I hadn’t regained control of the car? Life can be snuffed out in a moment.
Such an experience helps you focus on what’s important and what isn’t.
Most of us expect a tomorrow, but really there are no guarantees. Yes, I was driving a dangerous road, but even in everyday living perils await. Today I’m asking myself if I had gone over that cliff, what I would have left unfinished in terms of relationships, goals, and accomplishments.
©2012 Janalyn Voigt
July 28, 2012
Travel Journal: Oregon to California (Grand Canyon Trip)
Windmills © Janalyn Voigt
The mirror reflected a red-eyed woman with wild hair. After a night spent in restless slumber in an outdated hotel in a less-desirable neighborhood, at the start of the day I was already tired. By mid-morning I pulled back into traffic to spend the next several hours driving through the Siskyou Mountains. But that was the easy part.
After a lunch stop in which I consumed half of an amazing burrito, the road shook free of the mountains to run with few turns across golden grasslands. The effect was hypnotic, soporific even. Despite an iced coffee pick-me-up, after an hour I was ready for a huge nap. Give me lumbering trucks and 6% downgrades any day.
At a rest stop I hugged my pillow for a while. That helped more than I expected, and I made the rest of the day’s drive without another attack of sleepiness. We abandoned the main drag for a smaller, less-traveled highway through some interesting rural scenery. When windmills loomed across the horizon, I worried that their constant cycling would put me back to sleep, but even that didn’t effect me. When our convoy stopped to snap a few photos, I indulged in a little complaining about the visual pollution caused by wind farms. A younger member of our family took me to task when I called the windmills ugly. “They’re beautiful in their own way,” she told me. “And besides, beauty isn’t everything.”
I’m learning to look at windmills through a child’s eyes.
Janalyn Voigt’s unique blend of adventure, romance, suspense, and fantasy creates worlds of beauty and danger for readers. Beginning with DawnSinger, her epic fantasy series, Tales of Faeraven, carries the reader into a land only imagined in dreams.
Janalyn also writes western romance novels, and will publish in that genre under Janalyn Irene Voigt. She is represented by Barbara Scott of Wordserve Literary. She serves as a literary judge for several national contests and is an active book reviewer. Her memberships include ACFW and NCWA.
When she’s not writing, Janalyn loves to find adventures in the great outdoors.
DawnSinger, available at Amazon in kindle and paperback and also at Barnes and Noble in book and ebook.
The High Queen is dying… At the royal summons, Shae mounts a wingabeast and soars through the air to the high hold of Faeraven, where all is not as it seems. Visions warn her of danger, and a dark soul touches hers in the night. When she encounters an attractive but disturbing musician, her wayward heart awakens. But then there is Kai, a guardian of Faeraven and of Shae. Secrets bind him to her, and her safety lies at the center of every decision he makes. On a desperate journey fraught with peril and the unknown, they battle warlike garns, waevens, ferocious raptors, and the wraiths of their own regrets. Yet, they must endure the campaign long enough to release the DawnKing—and the salvation he offers—into a divided land. To prevail, each must learn that sometimes victory comes only through surrender.
©2012 Janalyn Voigt
