Showing posts with label curse of the bayou. Show all posts
Showing posts with label curse of the bayou. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 8, 2018

Researching (and writing about) Our Ancestors


I was asked, recently, to write a guest post on the blog of fabulous author, Christine Verstraete on one of my main interests, beside writing. While I love sports (I’m a tomboy from waaaaay back), swim, and play a little golf, my first love, after reading and writing of course, is genealogy.

Family Search has become one of my favorite websites. I’ve traced my family tree, on my mother’s side, back to kings and queens in England, France, and Scotland.

I relax by digging up research about my ancestors. Sometimes I relax, too much, and hours have gone by before I know it! My time and interest in family members and stories paid off, however, by sparking a five-book middle-grade series, Cynthia’s Attic.

When I realized a recurring dream I’d had for almost twenty years was about a mysterious attic was in the home of my childhood best friend, Cynthia, the writing, and my search for characters, began. It didn’t take long to realize genealogy could provide some interesting characters.

Like most of us, I had regrets about ignoring my grandparents, and even my parents, when I was young. Their stories about “the good ol’ days” bored me to tears. (I would’ve much rather been outside, playing baseball)

Bess Conrad Bulleit
So, when I came up with the book idea to send Augusta Lee (Gus) and her best friend, Cynthia, back in time to meet their twelve-year-old grandmothers, Bess and Clara, I found the perfect opportunity to honor my ancestors by sharing adventures with them.
Besides my grandmother, I wrote about my dad, my mother, great-grandparents, Charles and Samantha, and even my great-great-grandparents; the best story of all!

As I mentioned above, I had no use, back then, for old family stories; with one exception. According to family legend, my great-great grandfather, Augustus Bulleit, made a living transporting “produce” from his farm in Southern Indiana down the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers on a flatboat. He sold his “produce” all the way to New Orleans until, during a fateful trip in 1860, he disappeared. Although some of the “produce”, along with his boat, was recovered, no trace of him, or his remains, was ever found. 
Lots of speculation surrounded his disappearance. Did he simply vanish into the streets of New Orleans to escape the responsibility of providing for five children (four additional children died in infancy) and a wife, Marie Julia, who had a somewhat less than sparkling personality? (See for yourself!)

Or, was he murdered for a boat full of corn and soybeans? That sounded implausible, even when I was ten-year-old!

Ah-ha! Mystery solved years later when we discovered he was actually the maker and transporter of his own rye bourbon. I suppose those who knew the truth thought his image would be tarnished if it was discovered Gramps made and sold booze for a living. These days his reputation is spread far and wide with sales of Bulleit Frontier Bourbon. A couple of decades back a very smart cousin of mine discovered the old recipe and decided to
revive it. Now, it’s one of the leading rye bourbons in the world.


So, what does this have to do with writing, you ask? 
The third book in the Cynthia’s Attic series, Curse of the Bayou, is loosely based on that fateful trip. The two best friends time-travel back to Louisiana to see if they can discover what happened to Augustus, or Beau, as he’s portrayed in the story. Do they find him? Guess you’ll just have to read the book! 
Bottom line is, I wish I’d spent more time “researching” my relatives while they were still alive. Oh, the stories I could’ve written about their childhood, or what they remembered about their parents and grandparents. While I enjoy writing fantasy, I sometimes wonder how exciting the real story could’ve been. Don’t you?





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Wednesday, March 2, 2016

Cynthia's Attic: Cast of Characters - Great Grandma Samantha

A glass jar...sitting on a round kitchen table...filled with candy sticks. That's my one and only memory of my great grandmother, Samantha.

Samantha Jane Huff was born on Nov. 1, 1865, married a man 20 years her senior (my g.grandfather, Charles Conrad) on Christmas Day, 1882. She died August 20, 1957. I suppose I can be forgiven for not remembering much about her since I was five at the time.

My cousin, Paul Conrad, e-mailed a wonderful picture of Samantha, nicknamed, Mant for no reason I can fathom. Why would you do that to such a beautiful name? She lived with Paul's mother and dad (my great aunt and uncle) after my grandfather's death in 1926, and he remembers her as a kind and wonderful person to be around. Wish I'd had more time with her. 

In Cynthia's Attic: Curse of the Bayou, Samantha (Connor) is portrayed as an excitable, free-spirited mother of twelve children; all of whom she worries over constantly. In COTB, she is a notoriously bad cook, which is simply literary license, and is married to Cynthia's g.grandfather, Beau Connor. Okay, so I took a LOT of literary license. Confused yet? Here's an excerpt:

Cynthia's Attic: Curse of the Bayou (Book Three)

 

As promised, there was hot food waiting for us. To say that Samantha Conner was the most awful cook in the world would not be an exaggeration. I hadn't tasted anything quite as bad as her dumplings since I'd had the brilliant idea to eat my first-grade art paste.

But, to be polite, Cynthia and I ate as much as we could choke down. At least the family stories told at dinner, helped make the food a little more palatable, especially since we'd already heard bits and pieces from Cynthia's mom. Samantha mentioned that her husband was traveling, and had not returned. I could tell she didn't want to talk about his disappearance, but that didn't stop her from talking about everything else.

"Go ahead, Ma," Jay insisted. "Tell them about how you met Pa. You know you want to."

Samantha laughed self-consciously. "Oh, Jay. These two don't want to hear tales about some old couple…well, if you insist…" She went on without ever taking a breath.

I shot a sly smirk toward Cynthia, but she was already caught up in the story.

"…and so I decided that no one was going to tell me I couldn't ride across that creek. My brothers were able to cross, and they weren't nearly the bareback rider I was!"

I could see the smug satisfaction on her face, even after all these years.

"But, Ma. Tell them what happened when you did start to cross."

Her voice took on a mildly annoyed tone. "I'm getting to that. I still say my brother, Thomas, rest his soul, deliberately frightened Powder, causing that horse to buck me off in the middle of that raging river."

"Well, that's not the way Uncle Jude tells it, Ma. But, you tell it your way."

Samantha sniffed, and then continued the story. "As I was saying…that pitiful horse bucked me off into a raging current and, land sakes…I was sure I was going to drown. I went tumbling, head over applecart, until I felt my lungs were going to burst right through my chest."

Although Cynthia's great-grandmother did have a flair for the dramatic, I didn't have to imagine how Samantha felt. I knew, from my own experience, tumbling helplessly through the underground river in Big Blue Cave, exactly what it was like to nearly drown.

"But, now to the good part." Samantha laughed heartily. "I was just about to give up the ghost when I felt a hand on my shoulder." She touched her own hand to her left shoulder and smiled, sadly. "I didn't see him until he'd pulled me to land and smacked water out of my lungs with a crack between my shoulder blades. I still wonder what he saw in a girl spewing river water into his face, but I knew, as soon as I looked into those kindly, brown eyes, that I would spend the rest of my life with Beauregard Conner."

Charles & Samantha Conrad, and children
Great Grandma, Samantha, I wish I had known more about you, but I suppose there are worse things than being remembered for a full candy jar.

 


 Click on my website for Buy links to all 5 Cynthia's Attic series books!


Friday, September 19, 2014

Talk Like A Pirate Day!

It's International Talk Like A Pirate Day!
 
AARRRGHH! The day snuck up on me! Captain Buzzard Jack LaBuse, herrre, mateys!

And, just in case you're not sure how to Talk Like a Pirate, here are some key words ye be 'wantin' ta r'memberrr.

Ahoy! - "Yo!"
Avast! - "Check it out!"
Aye! - "Yes."
Arrr! - "That's right!" (often confused with arrrgh...)
Arrrgh! - "I'm VERY miffed."


So, weigh anchor. Hoist the mizzen. It's a terrrrrific day!

And, in case yer hankerin' ta read about me mis-adventures, ye be a'clickin on this link to Cynthia's Attic: Curse of the Bayou! 
(Don't make me come after ya!)


Heeeerrr's one of me treacherous scenes from Curse of the Bayou!
 
Gasp! I was soaked and struggling for air, but there wasn't any! Coughing…that's a good sign. At least my lungs were trying to work. Had a huge wave come over the side during the night? I nudged Cynthia with my elbow.
"Ahhhh! Where did that water come from?" she cried.
"So, you're finally awake, eh?" Buzzard Jack's voice chilled the air even more. "Nice job, Snags." The shadow of the captain fell over us, blocking out the morning sun. His helper, Snags was grinning idiotically, holding a wooden bucket. An empty wooden bucket, I might add.
I spit out the remaining drops of water I'd ingested, and glared.
"Don't blame me," Snags laughed. If yer mouth hadn't been hanging open like a newborn guppy, you wouldn't a choked."
I felt a confirming nudge in my back, but Cynthia didn't laugh. Nothing was funny.
Captain Jack didn't think so, either. He leaned down until the brim of his black hat was inches from making contact with Cynthia's forehead. "You will tell me where to find the watch. It may be now. It may be later. But, I can assure you, the longer it takes, the more uncomfortable you will become." He stood up. "So, what's it going to be? I promise to untie you and your little friend, give you a good meal, some water, and send you back to land, unharmed."
Oh, sure. That'll happen. I may only be twelve, but I wasn't born yesterday.
Neither his threats nor his "promises" had any effect on Cynthia. "I told you last night. I don't have it."
I knew when Cynthia was telling the truth and…she was telling the truth. Thinking back to finding the watch in the Conners' barn, I remembered watching Cynthia put it in her pocket. What happened to it after that was a mystery. But, we'd better find out, and soon, because the captain was now standing over me.

And, in case this doesn't interest you, I hear there's a free doughnut to be had at Krispy Kreme Facebook! Free Doughnut!



Sunday, September 19, 2010

Talk Like A Pirate Day in Cynthia's Attic


Avast Me Hearties!

It's time for that annual event, "Talk Like A Pirate Day!"

So, give me your best Captain Jack Sparrow line. The winner gets dinner with JD, himself!

Ha! Gotcha! Do you think, in your wildest dreams, that if I had the power to grant dinner with Johnny Depp, I GIVE IT AWAY?? Not in this lifetime.

Anyhoo, what's your favorite scene, line, eyebrow twitch? Post it here, or walk the plank!

Watch the trailer for Pirate of the Caribbean # 4!




Pirates of the Caribbean # 4 Blog

Talk Like A Pirate Day Website

And, don't forget to order your copy of Cynthia's Attic: Curse of the Bayou! Amazon or Kindle!

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Kindle, Baby!


I've zoomed into techie land! From trying to figure out how to post a blog a few short years ago, to having my own book up on Kindle, I'm rocketing through cyberspace on Amazon's Whispernet!

Take a look at Curse of the Bayou, now up as a Kindle download. Do they still call them downloads? Or, have they been renamed? Maybe Time-Travel Tomes. (Now, that's just stupid!). Catcher In the I(pod)? (Help! I'm losing my I-Brain!)

Anyone out there have a better name than "downloads?" C'mon people. There's gotta be a more current phrase!


Meanwhile, Save a Tree - Read an Ebook!

And, read "Cynthia's Attic: Curse of the Bayou!"

Amazon

Fictionwise

Quake

Mary Cunningham Books