Discovering Connections, or A Ghost Story for Halloween

Robert Louis Stevenson told the story of Major Duncan Campbell in a long ballad he called Ticonderoga, a Legend of the West Highlands. Written while he was being treated for tuberculosis in Saranac Lake, New York, Stevenson's poem was published in Scribner's Magazine in 1887.

Fort Ticonderoga, New York.

We've stayed several times over the years in the Adirondack resort town of Saranac Lake and often enjoyed walking its hilly streets. Early on, we discovered that the Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson, author of Treasure Island, Kidnapped, and many other acclaimed stories and poems, had spent a year in the town as a tuberculosis patient in 1887.

We've seen the "cure cottage" where he and his wife lived and which is today a museum filled with the man's memorabilia. Here Stevenson wrote twelve essays for Scribner's Magazine.
The treatment for TB at the time was a change of climate, and many victims of the disease took rest cures in the clean, cold mountain air, spending eight hours a day sitting in glassed-in porches.
During one long cold winter Stevenson wrote some of his best essays.

We recently took another road trip, this time to Lake George, New York. En route we stayed our first night again in Saranac Lake. We went on to explore some of the historic forts in the Champlain Valley. One of these forts was Ticonderoga, built by the French in 1755 during the French and Indian War. The French called it Fort Carillon.

On a plaque in the parkland that surrounds the fort we read for the first time of a Scottish legend about Major Duncan Campbell, one of the Highlanders who died as a result of wounds he received at Ticonderoga while the British attacked the French fort.

Legend has it that Campbell's death had been foretold sixteen years earlier by the apparition of a murdered man. A stranger had come to Campbell's door in Inverawe, Scotland, begging to be hidden from his pursuers. Campbell gave the stranger his word that he would not reveal the man's hiding place. When the men giving chase came to Duncan's door they told him that his cousin had been murdered. Duncan realized that the man he'd hidden had been the killer.

For three nights afterward he was visited by the ghost of his murdered cousin. On the third night the ghost said, "Farewell, Inverawe, till we meet again at Ticonderoga." It was only years later, when Campbell learned the Highlanders were to attack the French at a place called Ticonderoga, that he knew the meaning of those prophetic words.
The legend also says the battle where Campbell's Black Watch Regiment sustained heavy casualties was replicated in the clouds over Inverary Castle in Scotland on the afternoon of the attack.

Odd how these connections sudden appear to us. I call it serendipity.  

Word Northumberland, 2013

Word Northumberland 2013 has come and gone. This was the first year for the event that celebrated writers and readers. It was a good start, in spite of a few glitches. Now that it's behind us we can look at what worked, and what didn't, and move forward with plans for next year.

At last, a book sale and a signing!

Unfortunately, Mother Nature was not kind to us — nor to any of the other outdoor festivals in this part of the province on September 7th. In Cobourg, as well as Word Northumberland, the rain affected the turnout for the Coal Train Music & Blues Festival and for all the food vendors along King Street, which had been turned into a pedestrian mall.

Come on in, out of the rain!

Author Linda Hutsell-Manning finds a nook for her books inside the front entrance.

We, at least, were able to squeeze into the Firehall Theatre, although the weather prevented us from setting up tables out on the sidewalk as we'd hoped. Writers, librarians, book sellers, and publishers set up cheek-by-jowl inside, further restrained within the walls of a set for an upcoming theatrical production.

Display by Port Hope Public Library

But the public came out, some of them anyway, and the smiles on the faces of the participants in some of these photos show we're an adaptable group. Books were sold and the audience for the readings grew throughout the day. One reader, Brad Smith, Simon & Schuster author, was the special guest of The Avid Reader Bookstore.

Author Eric E. Wright and I share a table. The Avid Reader Book Store was close by, on my left.

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Coach House Books, one of four small publishers participating, sets up.

Many people who came by to check us out told us the event was a terrific idea. We hope they will watch for us next year when we'll be back, bigger and even better. Now that the word is out, we're sure to attract more individuals and groups from the literary community.

My thanks to James Manning for the use of his photographs here.

A Special Literary Event

See You in September

Word Northumberland is the name of a special literary event to be held Spetember 7th in Cobourg, Ontario. I will be among several authors signing books and chatting with the crowd.

Here is the official invitation:

Join us in a celebration of writers and readers at

Word Northumberland

September 7, 2013 from 10 am. to 4 pm.

At the Historic Firehall Theatre, 213 Second St. Cobourg.

Free admission.

Local writers, publishers, retailers and libraries invite you to :

•discover great books

•meet talented authors; listen to short, entertaining readings

•learn about literacy events in your community

•find answers to your questions about writing and publishing

•view beautiful cover art and illustrations

 Here is the link to the Facebook page for the event. https://www.facebook.com/word.northumberland
This is where you'll find out all the exciting details as they unfold and the schedule for special readings. Come and stroll through our venue at the historic Firehall Theatre in Cobourg. We hope to see you there!!

Seeking Molly in Early Kingston

Plaque in St. Paul's churchyard, Molly Brant's final resting place. 

On a recent research trip to Kingston, Ontario, I spent some time walking about that historic city. I was seeking out spaces through which Molly Brant might have moved during the time she lived here, from 1783–1796 — the location of the church she attended regularly, the first St Georges Anglican Church, the barracks where she and her family lived until their house was ready. Nowhere was Molly easier to imagine than at the site of her former home, on the banks of the Catarqui River.

Bust of Molly Brant at the Rideaucrest Home, built of the site of Brant's home.

While in the city, I was fortunate to be able to visit professional archaeologist Susan M. Bazely at her home so that we could talk about Molly. I left there with a map of the city of Kingston on which Sue had kindly marked the various places I must see in order to trace Molly's story.

After the Treaty of Paris in 1783 the proposed boundary between the newly independent United States and Canada was drawn through the middle of the lower Great Lakes. It was looking as if Carleton Island, Molly's home at the time, was going to become part of the States. The island is located in the St. Lawrence on the other side of Wolfe Island, close to the American mainland. To take its place, a new military port began to develop at Cataraqui.

The old French Fort Frontenac on the west side of the Cataraqui River was in a dilapidated state, but temporary barracks were built within it for the garrison troops. And it is here where Molly and her family were housed for a while.

Reconstruction of the northwestern bastion of old French Fort Frontenac. In the background, across the street, are the gates of today's Fort Frontenac .

Governor Haldimand ordered any houses or sheds that could be moved from Carleton Island be taken to Catarqui. Sue Bazely described to me how these would have been pulled across the ice of the St. Lawrence in the winter.  It's not hard to imagine what a spectacle that must have been for the early residents of the town.

Legend has it that part of this house, on the corner of Gore and King Streets in Kingston, may have been brought over the ice from Carleton Island to Catarqui  after 1783.

Imagining Scenes

Last Tuesday I joined another writer for an event that was called "A Literary Adventure." After reading some brief selections from our books we invited the audience to participate in a discussion about what they'd just heard and about writing in general.

There was one question that I found especially interesting. And original.

I'd told the group that while writing Laura Secord, Heroine of the War of 1812 the publisher had told me I was free to dramatize certain events in Laura's life — as long as the event had actually happened. The book begins with a scene I created around what I felt must have been a traumatic event in young Laura's life — the day she learns that her father has made arrangements for her six-month-old baby sister, Abigail, to be adopted, to be taken from the family home to go and live with relatives.

Laura's mother, Elizabeth, has recently died, leaving four little girls. Laura, aged eight, was the eldest. It is a poignant scene, the child rushing outside where the baby's cradle has just been loaded into the horse and cart that waited in the road, hoping to say one last goodbye. ". . . to kiss again the rosy lips and breathe in the baby's sweet, milky scent."

The question was: How much did you know about the event that you chose to dramatize before you wrote it?

Well, I knew that the baby's name was Abigail and that she was adopted when she was six months, and I knew the names and ages of Laura's siblings, the date of Elizabeth's death, and that the baby was adopted by "the Nashes." The rest — Laura recalling her mother's last days, her Papa turning Laura back to the house so that she could "Run up and check that we haven't forgotten anything," were all imagined.

That scene always draws a response from my readers. Writing little scenes, almost as if I were watching them on a stage, helps breathe life into the characters. Let me know what you think.

A Literary Adventure

One More Summer Appearance

  

Here is the poster for a fun event on Tuesday, July 30th where I'm joining the Brighton Arts Council and fellow author Eric E. Wright.

If you're in the Brighton/Cobourg/Bay of Quinte region next Tuesday we'd love you to join us. We'll talk about writing, share a few selections from our books, have some refreshments and answer any questions you might have about writing and getting published. And it's all free!

Thank you to author Shane Joseph for the technical help I needed to get the poster here on Blogger! We Spirit of the Hills writers are a supportive bunch.

After this month I hope to get back to writing. I have a couple of out-of-town jaunts planned to do more research on Molly Brant. I love doing research. It's the writing that's the hard part.

Happy summer and happy writing!

A Way With Words

I've been reading Conventry by Helen Humphreys (HarperCollins, 2008), a novel I highly recommend. In 175, pages Humphreys tells a compelling story of love and loss during wartime, with particularly vivid descriptions of the bombing of Coventry during World War II.

It is also the story of a friendship between two women, Harriet Marsh and Maeve Fisher, who meet only twice, each time under very different circumstances, over the course of 26 years. Although they don't know it until tragedy strikes, they share a connection through Maeve's son, Jeremy.

Each woman is creative in her own way: Maeve is an artist and Harriet "writes descriptions." Harriet's writing began as a way to feel connected to her young husband,Owen, even after he is killed at the battle of Ypres in 1914.

Harriet types up her descriptions after hours where she works. Finally, she finds herself growing disenchanted with the process. In Humphrey's words, "She is tired of trying to hammer a moment shut with words." I love that metaphor.

If you've ever tried to write in order to preserve a special time or place, you will be able to relate to that. I know I do. Now that I am doing less writing than I used to (and spending more time on research) I still continue to "write descriptions." In the same way a photographer takes a picture to preserve an event, I write "to hammer a moment shut with words."

Isn't that lovely?