Monthly Archives: October 2011

THE ATOCHA

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The Atocha

On September 4, 1622, twenty-eight ships sailed from Havana to the open sea. They were six-weeks behind schedule. By morning on September 5, the fleet encountered a massive hurricane. Twenty-two ships escaped disaster, but six went aground and broke up. Among the wrecks were the Spanish treasure galleons Santa Margarita and the Nuestra Senora de Atocha.  While the Santa Margarita was partially salvaged by the Cuban authorities, the bulk of her cargo and that of the Atocha soon lay at bottom of the sea. The great treasure of the Spanish government remained lost for 360 years. In May of 1980, salvager Mel Fisher and his team found the Santa Margarita. Five years later, they discovered the Atocha’s mother lode.

Ships’ manifests detailed much of the cargo in the ships’ holds. However, the contraband proved an exciting find for Fisher and his teams. The Atocha was rich in gold and silver bars, pieces of eight, Spanish coins, gold chains, jewelry, and Colombian emeralds. Imagine the thrill of salvaging this glittering piece of Spanish history. The estimated value of Fisher’s find was $450,000,000, making it one of the richest salvages in history.

I was privileged to view a portion of the Atocha’s wealth when Duncan and Boyd Jewelers hosted a showing of the treasures of the Atocha. Case after case of artifacts greeted patrons. I was astonished by the number of gold bars, pieces of eight, passengers’ jewelry, and pounds of silver for sale. The salvagers crafted reproductions of jewelry and artifacts from the salvaged silver. I purchased a cross, a mariner’s dolphin, and a dragon shaped toothpick along with Eugene Lyon’s book THE SEARCH FOR THE ATOCHA, and a copy of Captain Kathryn Budde-Jones’ booklet COINS OF THE LOST GALLEONS. But it was the emeralds that fascinated me. One of the divers slipped a mined emerald ring on my finger. I gulped when I saw the $7,000.00 price tag. It wasn’t even one of the best quality stones. One stone, a medium-sized, almost flawless, round cut was valued at $65,000.00.

After returning the ring to James, I continued to walk the displays. I played one of my favorite writer’s games. What if a ship from the Dutch East Indies fleet was pirated by a Spanish buccaneer? And what if the English attacked the pirate vessel? And what if all three ships sunk? And then, nearly three hundred years later, a young marine archeologist “happens” on all three wrecks. Among the treasures, the emerald encrusted lizard broach jeweler Juan Carlos de Gara presented to his fiancé before she sailed on the Dutch ship, Van der Mar. And what if, the broach was cursed?

I made one last visit to the emerald case. Beautiful! Not only had I held history, been offered an invitation to dive with the team, but I also had the plot for my third novel LEGENDS, LIES AND LIZARDS.

Cait Collins

DO THE TWIST

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Do the Twist

Once upon a time a handsome prince came to a faraway castle and met a beautiful princess. They fell in love instantly. Her father, the king, saw immediately how much the prince and princess loved each other and arranged for the two to marry at once. And they lived happily ever after.

Ho hum. We have to find some way to make this story more interesting.  Luckily I took a writing class about a year ago and I know exactly what this story needs. This drab little tale must have some twists and turns.

Every plot must have a character with a goal and lots of problems ranging from very serious to very minor. And there is a very nifty way to create these obstacles.

I learned in the writing class that if you write down everything you assume is true about a character and/or a situation, then change one of those things, you have a nice little twist. So in the story above, what do we assume?

Well, we assume the prince and princess are young unmarried lovers. We assume they are sweet and charming. We assume their courtship is smooth and romantic. We assume they are earthlings and that they are human beings. And we assume the time is long ago.

Which one of those assumptions would you change, and how does it affect the story?

Congratulations.  You have just received a post card from the muse.
Nandy Ekle

STORY

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STORY

by Sharon Stevens

“The telling of a tale links you with everyone who has told it before.

There are no new tales, only new tellers in their own way,

and if you listen closely you can hear the voice of everyone who has ever told the tale.”

by William Brooks

From POWER OF THE STORY

by Rives Collins & Pamela J. Cooper

I always jump at the chance when asked to volunteer as a storyteller for the annual Panhandle Plains Historical Museum (PPHM), “Cemetery by Twilight Tour”. Who wouldn’t be excited with the opportunity to research and celebrate the lives of those at rest in the historic Llano Cemetery.

For one minute after answering the call I am utterly elated, and the next terribly dejected. The task before me begins to swell like a Tsunami, simply because what I am expected to accomplish. One, I have to complete the assignment before Saturday October 15, 2011 at 3:30, and, two, condense one hundred years of community history from a mountain to a molehill within just one area family. And three, I have to limit my story to eight minutes or less. With hours of research facing me this is just a tad bit overwhelming.

The simple fact of the matter for me is this…the stories never stop. You can’t get them to slow down long enough to put a handle on the memories. You can’t just put your hand up and command thoughts to wait their turn, or to back up and make room for the important facts to come forward. It is like putting your fingers in a dike to stop the flow of water when another hole beside you opens up. In the case of the drought we have been experiencing here, no doubt it is the panhandle dust that will bury me deep underneath.

My load would also be a great deal lighter if I had limited experiences and resources to choose from. But my choices include a full weekend of programs that intersect on every level with what I am compiling.

On Thursday night October 13, 2011 at 5:30pm WTAMU in conjunction with the PPHM will be hosting The Remnant Trust lecture by Dr. Wade Shaffer speaking on “The City in Early America, The City Upon the Hill”. All free and open to the public.

Friday October 14, 2011 the Friends of the WTAMU Cornette Library will be hosting Jodi Thomas, New York Times Bestselling author and Writer-In-Residence at the college for their fall luncheon at 12:00pm. Her talk will be on “Working in Harmony-Combining Art and Craft” and also for her reception for that evening from 4:00 to 6:00pm.

Then there is the Cowboy Poetry Gathering and Chuck wagon Supper on October 15, 2011 at 5:00pm at the Palo Duro Cowboy Church on Highway 60 West of Canyon with cowboy poetry, storytelling, music and authentic chuck wagon food.

How can I choose what is relevant to my journey? Who knows where an idea might fall into place at just the right moment?

And I can’t forget about the resources. Does anyone have any idea as a writer how many places I connect with to follow the story? The Archives at PPHM or the Cornette Library, or any library within the Harrington Consortium, or every library around the country can and will assist me at any time. If I want to find out about the schools I can research through the school districts. Churches have people just crying for an opportunity to help with their faith, their members and their church history. Reading someone’s Master’s Thesis is an outstanding source of information from architecture to theater. Scanning through area magazines with a local flair like “Accent West” and the “Amarillo Magazine” unwittingly connects me forward. The Internet offers links around the world, but directs me to treasures and information right here at home in city newspapers of the Amarillo Globe News and Canyon News with archives online for today as well as years ago.

And the people, so many people. Wherever I am I mention one name and invariably someone will step out and share with me a story attached to a name, a place, a kinfolk, a time, an adventure. How can I choose? How can I limit? How can I condense?

The simple answer is that I can’t, and that’s okay!

In his book from RUSH TO DESTINY, Larry Jay Martin writes about the appreciation for the characters out of America’s past. He remarks, “Without all of them there would be no story.”

In the eight minutes I appear before you at the Llano Cemetery I can’t share every memory I accumulated while researching the epitaph carved on a tombstone. I know I will never be able to list the accomplishments of the family buried there beneath the earth.

My message is simpler than that. In that moment where we congregate together honoring the movers and shakers of our area, we are simply sharing of all that is good that surrounds us. I am a “new teller” telling the same story so that those listening might be encouraged and inspired to research on their own at the museum, or a library, or to talk with someone to connect with their heritage and history, then to pass it on.

I know that my version of the story is not the only one out there. That evening there will be storytellers throughout that will share about the people they represent. Trudy Hanson, professor at WTAMU, usually brings her students along. Hanson is a passionate professor and gifted storyteller and she is also the one who requires the book, THE POWER OF THE STORY. She is a true storyteller.

Come visit Llano or attend any of the other events in our area. If you stop at the Wolflin burial plot I can’t promise you I will limit my talk to only one story,I can only follow where my heart leads. And that, my friend, is the ultimate power of a story because…

“If you listen closely you can hear the voice of everyone who has ever told a tale.”

Sharon Stevens

HIDING THE TRUTH

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Hiding the Truth

Last week I talked about “Fixing the Truth”. This involves telling a lie until you can get the changes made to make your false statement factual. Such as Donnie Williams lying about his boss’s favorite colt “Doing fine,” when he actually had bucked him off.

Hiding the truth is a physical action to hide evidence. Have you ever done that as a child, or even as an adult?

An injury from doing something you shouldn’t have been doing, can’t be revealed. Besides all the mischief I found as a young boy, my deception continued as a young adult. My parents were not in favor of my rodeo career and several times I hid injuries from them. When I was a kid living at home, I did it so they wouldn’t put a complete stop to my sport. Later, when they accepted my career and even supported it, I did it to save their worry and grief.

The horse, Trails End, puts Donnie in this very situation. Maybe there’s a similar event in your past. If not, I believe the story will still capture your interest. After all, cowboys are real people too. Well, okay, maybe not.

Hope you’ll check in next Wednesday,

Joe Nichols

Memory Jolts

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MEMORY JOLTS 

By Natalie Bright

Through out life, isn’t it strange how the simplest experiences can stun us with a jolt of memory? More often than not, it seems this is connected to a significant loss.  I walked into a welding shop eight years after my father had passed on and the smell brought tears to my eyes.

LOSS OF A CHILD

The loss of a child has an even longer impact and today I’m blogging about the loss of a baby. If you are suffering from this devastating grief, just know that you have more strength than you might realize. Good days and bad days are in your future, and you’ll make it through.  I’m sure you’ve already noticed that every day occurrences can knock you to your knees.

For me, it’s playground equipment and the beginning of school.  Every year around this time I keep thinking I should be buying three sets of school supplies instead of just two. And playground equipment always reminds me of the things our sweet baby will never experience.

PHOTO MEMORIES

When I asked my friend Joe Stevens to take a picture of abandoned playground equipment for the cover of a book I was writing, I mentioned that he had about a month before I finished the final edits. The very next day, he drove to an abandoned rural school yard one evening after work. Out of only eight pictures, this was one of them:

The haunting symbolism in this picture resonated with me, from the beam of the setting sun shining at the top of the slide, to the dead weeds at the end of the slide where a parent might be standing.  His gift and talent to capture that image at that exact time makes me realize how fragile life is. A split second, and the photo would be lost and still life goes on. You must continue too.

WORDS OF HOPE

For words of hope and healing after the loss of a baby, my book GONE NEVER FORGOTTEN  is now available for Kindle at amazon.com. Based on my experience, I’m offering words of hope and poems to lift you during the bad times. From my heart to yours.

Natalie Bright

PAIN TO PEACE

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Pain to Peace

I was in the sixth grade when my father received orders for Dow Air Force Base in Bangor, Maine. My memories of Maine are vivid. I can still visualize the old four-level house on Blackstone, the forty inches of snow that fell from one storm, our snow forts and snowball fights. I loved the woods that surrounded our military home on Langley Drive.  I spent hours roaming the birch and pine forest, picking wild blueberries and raspberries. Then I’d return to our duplex red-eyed and sneezing as I was allergic to evergreen sap. (To this day, I cannot have a real Christmas tree.) I treasured our Saturday visits to Acadia National Park and Bar Harbor. For some reason the ocean waves assaulting the rock coast called to me. Perhaps it was the untamed wildness of the currents and tides, or the raw beauty of the colors of rock, water and sky that fascinated me. Or maybe the reason was in my astrological sign – Cancer, the crab, a water sign. Whatever the reason, I never forgot the three and a half years we lived in Maine.

I always planned to go back, but as with so many things, life interfered. Work, family, marriage intervened. I finally returned in June of 1995. I lost my husband to cancer in June of 1994. In the months that followed, the losses mounted. It seemed every phone call contained a death notice. After singing at a friend’s funeral service in November, I fell apart and my mother declared, “No more.” Even though there were more losses, I did not sing, nor did I attend the services. Instead, I looked for a getaway, a place where I could find peace and revive my spirit. The answer came in an ad in YANKEE Magazine for the Maine Windjammer Association. There was something about the picture of the majestic schooner at full canvas that attracted me. I called the 800 number to request more information. Within two weeks, a packet arrived in the mail and the planning began. My family wasn’t too keen on my going alone, but I stood my ground. This trip had to be for me. Seven months later, on a gray, wet Sunday afternoon, I stood at the edge of the wharf and requested permission to board the MARY DAY.

In 1994, the Maine Windjammer Association listed fourteen ships in its fleet. A number of the wooden ships were rescued from the old fishing and trading vessels built in the late 1800’s and in the early part of the 1900’s. These tall-mast beauties weathered storms and the ravages of time, and earned the honor of National Historic Landmark. In the early 1960’s, new schooners designed and built specifically for windjammer cruises, were added to the fleet. the MARY DAY was the first of the new ships. The newer vessels were built in the tradition of the wooden vessels of earlier days with an attention to the craftsmanship of a bygone era.

My windjammer cruise differed from a luxury cruise in that it had no frills. Think of it as camping on the water.  A passenger could choose to lounge on the deck or to augment the crew.  By working with the crew, one experienced sailing in the old tradition. Meals were prepared in a small galley on a wood-burning stove.  The anchor was raised using a two-man pump wench. Sails were hoisted by two teams pulling the rigging lines in tandem. Ropes had to be coiled, decks swabbed, the wheel manned. I worked, but I still reserved time to sit on deck and commune with nature. I watched eagles glide across the sky; saw harbor seals play along the islands in the bay; laughed when the dolphins would leap and splash in the gray-green water. I felt the breeze kiss my cheeks and the sun burn my neck.

Windjamming is an experience I will never forget or regret. I relive the thrill of taking the polished oak wheel and navigating our course while our captain stood at my side guiding and encouraging. Nothing compares to the sight of the tall ships skimming the water. They are beauty and majesty, a tribute to our forefathers’ seafaring skills. I would love to sail again.

This longer-than-normal Outtake does have a purpose. I followed my gut in a quest to find peace. Not only did I regain my center, I discovered the setting for my second novel GRACE ISLAND.  I continue to feature this beautiful state in novels and screenplays. I encourage every writer to follow his instincts in writing his story. Others may make suggestions, but you are the captain of the work. Do not allow other voices to force you to make changes you are not comfortable making. No sea captain would leave port without plotting his course. By the same token, a writer should plan before starting the story. I’m not suggesting a forty page outline with twenty pages of character sketches. However, a character list and brief notes on story and plot are essential. Just I required guidance and encouragement when taking the ship’s wheel, a writer needs critique and suggestions to solidify his work. Know when to say enough. I’ve seen authors write, rewrite and edit a piece until it no longer resembles the original premise. Do your best and let it go. Use every experience, every emotion, even the most painful ones, to color and build on the plot. Writing a novel or story is not an event, it is a journey. There are obstacles and disappointments along the way. With this in mind, I wish you, my fellow writers, fair winds and calm seas as you travel your writer’s journey.

Cait Collins

A NEW RULE

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POST CARDS FROM THE MUSE

A New Rule

Okay, class, it’s time to talk about grammar.  Stop groaning. Grammar is very important to a story. Yes, I know it’s boring and I know there are way too many rules for it to be reasonable. However, we’re going to take a new approach.

The accepted guidelines for creative writing today can be found in the Chicago Manual of Style, which is a gigantic tome and anyone who has memorized the whole book deserves a giant pat on the back.  But proper punctuation and noun/verb usage is not necessarily what our lesson is about today.

Today we’re going to talk about creative grammar. Now this is not the license to throw away all the rules in the name of art. In fact, knowing what the rules are is very important to this lesson, and I’m going to add a new rule that will make punctuation become as important to your story as your characters and plot. Ready?

IT’S OKAY TO BREAK THE RULE IF YOU KNOW WHAT THE RULE IS AND WHY YOU NEED TO BREAK IT.

I have read stories where the punctuation and grammar is so perfect that the whole thing is very stiff and formal and unfriendly – and not a lot of fun to read. On the other hand, I have read a few stories where the author uses grammar and punctuation, fonts, italics, all-caps, and bolds almost as characters in the story. These authors have achieved something so mouthwatering that a magic spell is woven that forces the reader to keep reading until they see the words “The End.”

Become friends with grammar and punctuation and let it breathe life into your stories. Don’t be afraid to experiment with its uses—or lack of (as long as you know why)—and watch your story develop a beating heart and start to live.

Congratulations. You have just received a post card from the muse.

Nandy Ekle

ROLLER SKATES

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ROLLER SKATES

by Sharon Stevens

In honor, memory and celebration of

Jerry Williams and Ruth Holladay

Who says, “you can’t roller skate in a buffalo herd”? Just because Roger Miller celebrated this fact in a song he wrote and performed doesn’t mean it can’t happen. It’s just not a good idea. One, it disturbs the buffalo and two, skates don’t skid well through patties.

Take my hat for example. I have a hat, the most wonderful chapeau you could ever imagine, made special for me to celebrate a Kentucky Derby event at my mother’s church. I had Nikki Sams at Stevens Flowers transform two cowboy hats for this. I felt like Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman” when I entered their magical world on the courthouse square in Canyon. With outstretched arms I begged them to help me with an idea for my mother and me to celebrate together. Mother’s needed to be respectable while I wanted mine to represent everything patchwork. What they came up with was nothing short of miraculous. Mother’s hat was black sparkly crochet on a gold background with pearls hanging down the back. Mine was every color of the rainbow, interwoven together, connecting each hue to the next. It was covered in crochet, lace, and bright expressions of “bling.” I have never had anything with “bling” before.

We were a hit wearing our hats and had more fun. After the event my mother put hers away and I hung mine on a hook at our bookstore, and this has been a real conversation starter for anyone who comes in.

At the bookstore I wear many hats, but none more special than this one. I take it down and wear it on story-telling occasions in memory of “Patchwork.” It is my way of honoring Ruth Holladay and Jerry Williams. Both true storytellers inside and out. Jerry would wear a silk patchwork top hat while Ruth donned a patchwork vest with pockets galore. Ruth never knew what story she would tell until she got up before her audience and put her hand in her pocket. Whatever object she pulled out would determine the story she would weave.

I can’t wear my hat without being reminded of all the wonderful stories that surround all of us to be written and shared. Also, when this is perched brightly on my head it brings me courage and inspiration. Downright silly in the wrong setting, it fits perfectly for all ages with its sparkle and bling in the right one. And its not that I’m invisible underneath, but it helps to hide my sheer terror while the audience gushes over the designs and colors woven intricately together.

So I was reminded of my chapeau while running across to the Panhandle Plains Historical Museum to deliver books to the author Jodi Thomas, guest speaker for the Canyon Chamber of Commerce-Women in Business breakfast. I left my hat behind at the bookstore; it would have been out of place at a professional event such as this. I try to reserve it only for special projects at the museum, library and story time hoping to make a memory for someone.

To me this object represents a MacGuffin. When Harrison Ford promoted “Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull” he mentioned that the skulls were a “MacGuffin,” a storied item worth seeking, such as the Ark of the Covenant. This was a phrase first coined by Alfred Hitchcock in 1939 and picked up by Steven Spielburg and George Lucas. Hitchcock describes the meaning as “whatever impels the villains and virtuous characters in a movie to pursue each other through the convoluted plots. The mechanical element that usually crops up in any story…the object around which the plot revolves.” Lucas further strengthened the idea. “A MacGuffin should be powerful and the audience should care about it almost as much as the dueling heroes and villains on-screen.”

My hat, the MacGuffin, signifies thousands upon millions of precious stories I can connect together at a drop of a hat. Nikki Sams created and crafted my jewels with the artistry of her grandmother, Montene Stevens who taught her to crochet. Nikki’s mother, Debbie Stevens and grandmother Shirley White shared their passion and the heritage of beauty not just in flowers. Stevens Flowers is also a family business which will be celebrating 75 years this year in the community.

Every time I come into their store I am inspired and linked to another story and memory, and not only because of my hat. When I leave I am renewed in my faith to set my thoughts down in some form or fashion to share with generations to come.

Even though those gifted in the flower shop are not milliners, I can only imagine that Stevens continues the tradition of our prairie foremothers (as opposed to forefathers) who must have fashioned bonnets with bits of ribbon and lace, fabric and scraps to renew that which adorns our heart and soul.

Yep, I didn’t wear my patchwork hat to the Chamber of Commerce breakfast. It just wouldn’t do. I know enough not to roller skate in a buffalo herd either. But you can bet your bottom dollar I will be wearing my special “lid”, my precious chapeau, at our Buffalo Bookstore during the WTAMU Homecoming parade Saturday October 8, 2011 or I’ll eat my hat. Believe me, with all that bling it won’t be very tasty.

This year’s theme is Mardi Gras, and me and my colorful cowboy hat will fit right in, a mixture of our western heritage and silly celebration. I might even have to go next door to The Hide Out and buy some beads to add more bling. Isn’t that what Mardi Gras is all about?

Don’t look for me to lead the buffalo mascot and accompanying herd in the homecoming parade though; it’s just not my place. Wait a minute, what if I can find a pair of roller skates. Hmmmm. Can you imagine what a MacGuffin that would make?

Sharon Stevens

Fixing the Truth

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Fixing the Truth

 How many of us blur the line between a lie, and not revealing the facts?

When I was a lad growing up on a farm in Kansas, finding trouble was easy. Both my parents constantly drilled me on being honest, and that telling the truth was always best. “Lies will only make things worse and will always catch up with you.” Now there is the truth for sure.

What about trying to spare ourselves embarrassment when the truth doesn’t really effect anyone else? I think that strategy makes it easier to lie about other things. I’d rather be embarrassed.

There is one form of lieing that human nature tries to excuse. We often hide information from people to protect their feelings, avoid worry or anger, or maybe to influence their decisions in the way we think is best for them.

Sometimes we try to stall long enough to fix the situation before the bad news is revealed. This is the situation Donnie Williams finds himself in my novel, TRAILS END. The palomino colt assigned to him to train, is expected to be a gentle horse for Robert Jarrett, Donnie’s 78 year old boss. The colt bucks Donnie off, and he makes no mention of it to anyone. When asked how Trails End is progressing, Donnie claims the horse is coming along perfectly.

Can Donnie “Fix the Truth”? I hope you will want to read the story and find out.

Joe Nichols

GREATEST STORY IDEA—LOST!

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GREATEST STORY IDEA—LOST!

It’s the middle of the night. Pitch black. The cricket’s chirping fiddle serenade has ceased and the man on the moon has shut his eyes in sleep. After what feels like the deepest sleep you have ever experienced, you sit straight up in the bed with the greatest story idea—ever. Frantically you try to remember the smallest details. Your mind races back to the beginning of the dream to piece together the plot line. Sleep fights the adrenaline as your eyes begin to close. In a haze you convince yourself that you will remember it in the morning.

As the alarm startles you awake and your eyes open and begin to focus, horror sets in because you can’t recall the greatest story idea—ever!

You didn’t write it down.

Keep a notebook or writing pad by your bedside and make notes when the thoughts happen or they will be lost forever.