Laura C. Rader's Blog, page 3
February 29, 2024
Judging a Book by Its Cover
Yesterday was the full cover reveal of my soon-to-be-published historical fiction novel, Hatfield 1677. My publisher, Acorn Publishing, used the services of Damonza to create a beautiful cover.
I was part of the process, and sent them assorted images I found online that shared my vision but never completely, and vague descriptions such as “I have always envisioned the cover as something intriguing but ambiguous, like a hoofprint and a feather in the snow, or a woman’s linen cap hanging from a bush beside a trail, or smoke rising from a distant village or wigwam at the end of a trail in autumn.“
“You can’t judge a book by its cover.” Google leaps to the Bo Diddly Song (?!) from the early 1960s, but Goodreads claims it is in a piece of dialog from the novel The Mill on the Floss, published in 1860 by George Eliot. I’m going with the 19th century.
A beautiful cover can certainly portray the story within, the themes and setting, the characters and season. “My” cover (I love saying that) hints at a long journey in the late autumn wilderness, perhaps by canoe, and the promise of sunlight ahead.
Please read Hatfield 1677 and judge for yourself if the pages tell the story of the beautiful cover. Coming in May 2024.
February 28, 2024
February 14, 2024
Romance in Hatfield 1677
Blood-Red Bengal Rose, Rosa indica cruneta from Les Roses (1817–1824) by Pierre-Joseph Redouté. Original from the Library of Congress. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel.Happy Valentine’s Day!
One of the most enduring myths regarding the Puritans of 17th century New England is that they were asexual both in and out of marriage.
The confusion stems from their religious beliefs and doctrines regarding sexuality. Within marriage, sex was highly encouraged as a means of procreation, and also as a desirable intimate bond between husband and wife. In fact, refusal to have relations with one’s spouse was grounds for censure and divorce.
It is true that the Puritans had laws against sexual relations outside of marriage, adultery, and homosexual relations, and public displays of affection were frowned upon and often fined. However, behind closed doors, the Puritans enjoyed many, if not all, of the same pleasures people enjoy today, including those that were against the law. For more info, see this short article from Boston Magazine; https://www.bostonmagazine.com/arts-entertainment/2016/10/18/puritans-and-sex-myth/
In my upcoming historical fiction novel, Hatfield 1677, my main characters Martha and Benjamin Waite, a married Puritan couple, are separated by circumstances beyond their control for most of the book. As an author, I relied upon writing scenes before their separation and after their reunion to show the depth of their love, as well as their memories, thoughts, and longings for each other during their time apart.
I hope you enjoy their love story.
December 21, 2023
December 18, 2023
A Gift to You-Cut Scene from Hatfield 1677
Sinterklass und Zwarte Piete, Netherlands and New AmsterdamMy main character, Benjamin Waite, and his friend Stephen Jennings, traveled hundreds of miles on their quest to find their captured wives and children and ransom them back from their Algonquian captors.
As they must travel through the colony of New York, only recently taken by the British from the Netherlands, they spend several nights in Albany.
The following scene didn’t “make the cut” into the novel, as it doesn’t advance the plot or the characters’ development or heighten the tension, and scenes should do at least one of those.
But it’s a lot of fun and based on a lot of research, so here it is for you, and may you have a wonderful Christmas or Hanukkah and a Happy New Year!
CUT SCENE FROM HATFIELD 1677
By Laura C. Rader 2023
December 5 and 6, 1677
Albany
The never-ending snowstorm extended its stay, so we extended ours through Sinterklaas. As Hendrick had said, his two younger sisters were full of excitement, and two of his older sisters were expected to visit that evening with their husbands and children.
We were the only boarders at the inn, and I realized we were becoming part of the family when Dorothy Douw handed us a list of items, took three guilders from her purse, and bade us go to the bakers for Sinterklaas sweets. The baker had a long Dutch name ending in Van Den Uythoff. His store was crowded with other customers, but we inhaled the scents of ginger, anise, and cinnamon while we waited in line. Glancing at the list Vrouw Dorothy had given us, we were to purchase pepernoten koekjes, banketletter pastries shaped like alphabet letters, and speculaas koekjes.
We reached the front of the line, and I handed the baker my list. He carefully packed each of the letter-shaped pastries into individual boxes and wrapped the pepernoten koekjes and the windmill-shaped speculaas into another big box lined with waxed paper. We thanked the baker and went on our way back to the tavern.
“I wonder if there’s a pastry with an “S” or a “J” in there for me?” Stephen asked, laughing.
“I didn’t see which letters he packed. I hear only nice boys and girls get gifts from Sinterklaas,” I replied, laughing. Stephen shrugged.
Six pairs of wooden shoes were lined up carefully by the front stoop of the Douw home, two pairs of larger klompen, and four little ones. The softening snowfall was all that filled them for now. We entered to the sounds of small children playing and handed our precious parcels to Vrouw Dorothy.
“Bedankt, Mister Waite, kom und meet my family,” she said, placing the boxes in a tall cupboard and closing the doors.
She introduced us to her two older daughters, Anna and Greetje, their husbands, Hans and Jonas, and four golden-haired children. The younger girls Enjeltje and Elsje, 18-year-old Catrina, 14-year-old Hendrick, and our host, Heer Douw, filled the keeping room with love and laughter. Two pots bubbled on the fire, and Catrina tended a frying pan.
“What are we having for dinner?” Stephen asked.
Vrouw Dorothy smiled.
“Today is for the children, so what they like; Snert, Hachee, and pancakes.”
Stephen smiled but looked puzzled, so Hendrick laughed and explained.
“Snert is pea soup with carrots and sausages. Hachee is a stew. Mam makes it with duck, pumpkin, cloves, and laurel leaves. Pancakes— you know what those are?” he asked.
“Yes, pancakes, I know! Thank you!” Stephen said.
Out on the street came the ringing of bells, and the children jumped up and ran to the front windows. Heer Douw opened the upper half of the door, and Enjeltje and Elsje pressed against the bottom half, while mothers and fathers held their little ones up to look. Stephen and I took our place at the window.
Through the snowfall came a man on a white horse. He wore a tall bishop’s hat and a red cape and held a gold staff in one hand. Beside him walked a figure that appeared to be a chimney sweep, dressed in black and carrying a switch and a big sack.
“Het is Sinterklaas!” “Sinterklaas en Zwarte Piet!” the children screamed.
I smiled. It was hard not to catch the wee ones’ excitement. This was surely both a papist and a pagan custom, but at that moment, I didn’t care. At that moment, I only felt love for childhood, for that brief time of wonder and innocence. At that moment, I deeply missed my girls.
“My Mama was Catholic. Before she married. She told us of Christmas and Saint Nicholas,” Stephen said. There was a wistfulness in his voice.
Sinterklaas waved his staff and nodded at those standing on stoops and in doorways, while Zwarte Piet rattled his chains and feinted with his switch. As they approached, Zwarte Piet crept quickly up to the doors and filled the waiting wooden shoes with treats from his sack.
“Who are they, really?” I whispered to Hendrick.
“This year, our miller is Sinterklaas, and the blacksmith Zwarte Piet. The horse belongs to Heer Philipse Pieterse Schuyler. He is one of the founders, quite wealthy.”
“Lovely horse,” I said, missing Scout.
Zwarte Piet stepped towards the door, waving his switch, and the children drew back. The little ones hid their faces in their mothers’ bosoms, and even Enjeltje and Elsje gasped. The sooty-faced man laughed and placed candies in each shoe, then handed Vrouw Dorothy a half-peck basket filled with oranges.
“Do the townspeople chip in for the candy and fruit?” I asked.
“Ja, each gives what they can. The candy we make in Albany, but the sugar for it and the oranges come from Barbados.”
Once Zwarte Piet left, Enjeltje opened the door, and the children picked up their shoes and brought them inside to examine their treasures. Heer Douw poured two bottles of red Spanish wine into a kettle and added orange rind, slices, juice, cinnamon sticks, and cloves. Vrouw Dorothy took the other pots off the fire and set them on the hearth, then heated milk for the children’s cocoa. Hans and Jonas set up two trestles, and a second board was laid next to the table. The women opened the tops to the boxes of pastry letters we’d bought and set one at each place. We all searched for our initials to find our seats at the table.
Stephen and I found an “S” and a “B” for our names, seated kitty-corner from each other at the table, and so compelled to bravely use our limited Dutch. The women served the soup and stew onto blue and white glazed Delft china plates and piled pancakes and applesauce in the center of the table for all to help themselves.
Heer Douw poured the mulled wine, Vrouw Dorothy, the hot cocoa, and we drank to the health of family and guests. The bakery boxes were passed around. We sucked on the hard pepernoten, small spiced cookies flavored with cinnamon, nutmeg, anise seed, and finely minced citron, and we nibbled on the Banketletter initials of flaky pastry filled with almond paste. I found the windmill-shaped gingerbread speculas too pretty to eat.
The language of food and smiles made me feel very much at home. I slept well that night, of which I was glad, for the next morning dawned with not a cloud in the sky. Stephen and I bade our Dutch friends Vaarwell and headed northeast once more to seek the Mohawks’ help.
November 23, 2023
Egypt
Colonnade in the Temple of Hathor at Dendera, Egypt
I am currently working on the first draft of my third novel, propelled recklessly forward by the tides of NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month.
The Title: Lady Libertie’
The Pitch: It is the mid-19th century, and Frédéric Bartholdi is a wealthy, young Parisian sculptor who longs to create a monumental work to rival the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. He falls in love with his model, Jeanne Emelie, and she with him, but they sabotage their love and he leaves for his planned trip to Egypt, where he will photograph and draw the monuments and perhaps convince the khedive to grant him a commission to build a statue at the entrance to the proposed Suez Canal.
Will he create the immortal work of his ambitions? Will she pursue her love of painting and her dreams of travel? And will they ever meet again and rekindle their love?
Anyway, I am deep into researching Egypt and it is fascinating. Bartholdi’s trip takes him by small sailing craft up the Nile River from Cairo to Abu Simbel and back, exploring tombs and temples, carousing with three other artist companions, and sketching, painting and photographing everything.
I haven’t forgotten my first love, Hatfield 1677, but my goodness it is a time travel and cultural shock to move so swiftly from 17th century Puritan Massachusetts Bay to the 2000 to 6000 year old civilizations of Persia, Egypt, and Rome.
For updates on Hatfield 1677, please subscribe to my Newsletter:) Cover reveal in February!
October 8, 2023
First Nation Resources for Hatfield 1677
– Zora Neale Hurston
Hurston (1891-1960) was an American anthropologist and writer known for her research and writing on slavery, race, folklore and the African-American experience.
BIBLIOGRAPHY INDIGENOUS PEOPLE
Alchin, Linda. “Algonquian Names” Siteseen, Ltd. January 16, 2018,
Bourdeau, Melina. “Field Research for Battle of Great Falls/Wissantinnewag-Peskeomskut Continues.” Greenfield Recorder, July 30, 2019. https://www.recorder.com/Archaeological-study-searching-Greenfield-27017379?utm_source=HeadlineAlerts&utm_medium=DailyNewsletter&utm_campaign=HeadlineAlerts
Brooks, Lisa. Our Beloved Kin: A New History of King Philip’s War (The Henry Roe Cloud Series on American Indians and Modernity) Yale University Press, New Haven, CT, Copyright 2018
Cowles, Julia Darrow. Indian Nature Myths. “How the Flying Squirrel Got His Wings.” A. Flanagan Co. Chicago. 1918. Library of Congress. Public Domain. https://www.loc.gov/
Jennings, Julianne. “Deer Island: A History of Human Tragedy Remembered”. ICT News, a Division of IndiJ Public Media https://ictnews.org/archive/deer-island-a-history-of-human-tragedy-remembered?redir=1 August 23, 2013, Updated September 12, 2018
Keene, Arthur S. and Elizabeth Chilton, Department of Anthropology, University of Massachusetts Amherst. “Toward An Archaeology Of The Pocumtuck Homeland: Critical Archaeology And The Umass Archaeological Field School.” Paper presented at the 1995 Annual Meeting of the Society for American Archaeology. Minneapolis, MN. https://scholarworks.umass.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1000&context=chilton_elizabeth
King, Maggie. Map of Ashpelon’s Journey. Created by Maggie King, based on “Routes of Quentin Stockwell” from Captive Histories by Evan Haefeli and Kevin Sweeney https://ourbelovedkin.com/awikhigan/ashpelon-full-journey-map-uewjpg.meta
Makepeace Productions. Our Mother Tongues. Wopanaak Language Reclamation Project. Southeastern Massachusetts. 2011 Makepeace LLC. http://ourmothertongues.org/language/Wampanoag/12
McBride, Dr. Kevin, David Naumec, Ashley Bissonnette & Noah Fellman. “Technical Report Battle of Great Falls / Wissatinnewag-Peskeompskut (May 19, 1676)” Pre-Inventory Research and Documentation Plan. Department of the Interior, National Park Service American Battlefield Protection Program GA-2287-14-012. Mashantucket Pequot Museum & Research Center, April 2016.
Click to access Battle_of_Great_Falls_Phase_I_Final_Technical_Report.pdf
National Park Service. “1676 Battle of Wissatinnewag – Peskeompskut (Great Falls): Building on Community Commitments to Remember, Honor, and Protect” Article 2022 Preservation Planning Grants Success Stories https://www.nps.gov/articles/000/massachusetts-1676-battle-of-wissatinnewag-peskeompskut-great-falls-building-on-community-commitments-to-remember-honor-and-protect.htm
Native Heritage Project. “First Bible Printed in US is Algonquian.” Posted December 1, 2015 by Roberta Estes.
Tall Pine, David, and other members. Nipmuc Language. Audio, written, audio/visual files; resources; articles. http://www.nipmuclanguage.org/
Northmen https://www.youtube.com/@neemantools/about “The Birth of a Dugout Canoe” YouTube video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ueFiy-uxI4Y
Partridge, Emelyn N. Glooskap the Great Chief and Other Stories. “Glooskap Finds Summer.” Sturgis and Walton Co., New York 1913. Library of Congress. Public Domain. https://www.loc.gov/
at Cambridge, in New England in 1640 ; With Introduction by Wilberforce Eames
The Tribal Government of The Nipmuc Nation, Hassanamisco Band of Nipmucs https://www.nipmucnation.org/
Town of Montague, Village of Turner Falls, History and Culture. https://www.montague-ma.gov/p/14/Turners-Falls
Indigenous Peoples’ Day
As an example of confidence and optimism, and an amazing feat of navigation in a day and age without a means to measure longitude (basically, distance across the ocean), the voyage of Christopher Columbus from Europe to North America is impressive. As we all know, however, his misidentification of the Caribbean islands as the East Indies, his inadvertent or intentional opening of the continent to European invasion, and thereby, his shared blame for the resulting subjugation and massacre of the First Nation, are not worthy of celebration.
So that is why this post will instead focus on the Nipmucs, the predominant First Nation Algonquian tribe in my novel Hatfield 1677. A partial bibliography of the resources I used is posted separately.
The Northeast woodlands region encompassed what is today New England —Maine, Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island—and also southern Quebec, Canada. Over a dozen Algonquian tribes lived in this region, united by their similar though dialectically different Algonquin language. They were nomadic, traveling to the northern parts of their region in the winter to hunt, and to the southern ranges the rest of the year to farm and fish. The Nipmucs southern home was where Hatfield, Hadley, Deerfield, and Northampton were settled, in the Connecticut River Valley of what is now Massachusetts.
They were a versatile people, adapting to their environment through migration and a variety of survival skills. They built their homes and canoes from birchbark in the warmer months, and tree trunks and branches in the winter. They cleared forests by setting fire to them each fall so they could plant corn in the spring. They were friendly with the other Connecticut River Valley tribes—Pocumtucks, Norwottucks and others— and often allied with them, first against their ancient enemies, the Iroquois, and later, against the European colonists.
They were, at first, able to live alongside the European settlers in relative harmony, farming, fishing, and trading with each other. Through this interaction, goods, foods and even languages were exchanged. But as European numbers increased, so did European avarice and European justification for tipping the balance of power with the First Nation by declaring that Europeans were a superior race.
In Groton, Massachusetts, the Nipmuc Nation has its tribal headquarters, and it is there that the Nipmuc language has not only been resurrected but is also taught. https://www.nipmucnation.org/
Unfortunately, although the state of Massachusetts recognizes the Nipmuc Nation, our federal government does not, so the Nipmuc people do not receive any federal assistance. I relied upon their online resources for the names and spoken language of my Nipmuc characters, and hope that my novel honors their people.
