Character Quotes Blog Tag

 

Hello Readers,

I realized that today was the last day of June. I also realized that I have yet to do a blog post for this month. And so here I am, fashionably almost too late... oops. 

Earlier this month, I got tagged by the lovely Abigail over at Diamonds in the Rough for a blog tag that she created in an attempt to get to know her own characters better. I also need to get to know my characters better, and so here I am, actually doing the blog tag... (I may have a list of tags that I have yet to do... o.o) 

Instructions: take the characters from your current WIP and list a quote that describes each one. It can be something they do, a piece of dialogue they say or something of that nature. Do what you will.

I am going to be taking the 6 main(ish) characters from my WWI disaster WIP. (Please note this story has had minimal editing.)

Jenny Blair

"She was nervous, but wouldn’t admit it. That would show weakness and she was strong; she must be strong in honor of her dad. In honor of all the other men fighting. She would have to find out when she arrived if she would be brave enough. She sincerely hoped she would. She must be brave."

(Possibly my favorite character... she's sweet, strong, and stubborn...)

George Blair

"“I have every intention of us both returning home safely,” George gave his friend a reassuring smile. George felt a shot of adrenaline rush through his body as he said the word safely. Yes, they would both return home safely. George noticed that James’ hands were shaking. Wanting to support his friend, George put a hand on his friend's shoulder. “We'll get home alright, just wait, this war will be over before Christmas,” George hoped that would help. Just then, something deep inside told him that it wouldn’t. That it would be a bloody war, that lives would be lost, that he- and all the men standing with him would never be the same. That they might not return home safely. A sinking feeling made his heart feel like a ship's anchor, cast into a turbulent sea. George tried to push the feelings further down; he had to be strong for James’ sake. For the sake of the men around him."

(Husband, Father, Soldier... what else can I say?)

Mabel Blair

"“You could refrain from encouraging your dad and Mr. James to go get killed.” Mabel replied a little sternly."

(Anxious wife? Yes. Supportive wife? Also yes. Honestly she's really sweet and just cares a lot about her family and friends.)

Kenneth Martin

"No matter what anyone said or thought, he didn’t like the idea of fighting or going off to war. He didn’t like the idea of men killing one another. Kenneth winced as he thought of what it might be like to have a bullet hit him. He never thought of himself as a brave man. How would he fare when he started fighting; would he turn and run like a coward? Would he hold his ground? Kenneth didn’t know, he likely wouldn’t know until his first battle."

(My farm boy turned soldier...) 

Fred Martin

“Kenneth, it is your duty to protect your country; how dare you think you’re going to stay here on this farm for the duration of the coming war!”

(Slightly over patriotic father who wants his son to do what he cannot. Hint, Kenneth does not appreciate it.)

Peggy Martin

“Fred, Kenneth, please, calm down, we aren’t going to be able to help the war by creating one at the kitchen table.” 

“I’m not taking sides; I just want to help. You two need to stay in line or I’ll whip the lotta ya,”

(Kenneth's mother, trying to help and throwing a bit of humor in with it.)

Tag! You're it! 

If you have yet to do this tag, consider yourself, Tagged. 

I hope you all have a patriotic 4th of July and lovely summer! 

Blessings, 

Mattie May

Who Loves A Free Book!?

 Hello Readers!

I bet you're shocked to see a post from me this early in the month since I usually post at the last minute LOL. 

But today, and this month is different! 

About two years ago at this time, I was furiously editing my debut novel Everlasting Gold to prepare it for the public eye. One week from this Friday will be the two-year anniversary of Everlasting Gold being published! 

It's so crazy to think that it's been that long, that my book is two years old already! 

So celebrate this momentous occasion I am hosting a giveaway! One person will receive a free, signed copy of my book! 

*This giveaway is only open to US and Canada entrants* 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

I hope y'all enjoy this as much as me ;D. Have a wonderful April and perhaps you'll see me post again this month to announce the winner! 

Blessings,

Mattie May, The Blossoming Writer 

'Twas December 25th...

 

Dear Readers,

As you know, I wrote a novel last year that took place during WWI and I couldn't talk about WWI without talking about the Christmas Truce... so, I enlisted help from my dear friend, R. M. Archer to help me edit this chapter in time for Christmas, and in time to share it with some family and friends. I always love working with her and if you're ever in need of a fabulous editor, check out her services Here!

Anyway, with no further Ado... 

The Christmas Truce

Mattie May

'Twas December 25th

All was silent, and all was still

From inside trenches,

Souls sang songs,

From foreign tongue and nation,

Songs of Christmas joy and cheer

The guns were silent

The men just listened

Listened to the voices singing,

“Joy and peace to the world”

How can this be?

How can they sing of peace?

When there is no peace nor joy in war,

Only pain.

Only suffering.

Only loss.




One by one, men appeared,

The land of death now filled with life.

A place where instant death occurred,

Now, a place of song, dance and life.




The men who'd just the day afore,

Cocked, and aimed, and fired, and killed

Now, sang, danced, and played as before war




Men with aching broken hearts.

Those with aching broken bones.

All joined the singing, laughter, games




In the dark corner of a trench,

A heart; aching throbbing torn

Couldn't join the fun.

Not after what those men had done.

They'd taken his brother,

His friend,

His soul.




The joyous cries,

Laughing and cheering.

The kicking of helmets like balls,

The games, the fun.

Everything made the ache acute.




He heard footsteps,

“C'mon, brother,

C'mon, enjoy yerself for once.

Who knows when this war'll end,

we might as well enjoy ourselves,”

A friend encouraged him.

He shakes his head, bitter in reply-

“How do you sing and dance when you're hurt?”

His heart is aching, it's broken.

It's shattered in so many pieces.




He's left alone again.

The cheering: relentless.

It won't leave him alone.

He finally drags himself up.

Out of the trench,

Out of the dark.

The cold, fresh snow stings his nearly bare feet.

He pulls a threadbare coat tighter around his shoulders.

“You've come, ol' pal, you've come!

Enjoy yourself, put down your gun.”

With every game,

With every song,

With every laugh,

The broken heart begins to heal.




⚜⚜⚜

Snow was freshly fallen, and the mud had finally frozen. It was December twenty-fourth. Christmas Eve. The day that in just the previous year had brought joy and cheer to the men who now sat in frozen French mud. When families should have been together around a crackling fire in the hearth, George sat on his sandbags, breathing into his cupped hands in a vain attempt to keep them warm. As the sun began slipping below the horizon, George ignored the temperature drop as he pulled his coat closer around his shoulders. He shivered, unsure if it was from the cold or the gathering shadows throughout the trenches.

Then he heard it. A harmonica. It sounded so foreign to his ears,which had heard only explosions and the groans of dying men for the past few months.

He recognized the tune: Stille Nacht. Silent Night. What a joke in this war zone, he thought. A voice joined the melody. George was surprised that it was loud enough to carry across no-man's-land.

He tried to ignore it as a gust of wind cut through his coat, reminding him where he was. Cold. Wet. Heartbroken. Hidden behind eight feet of frozen French mud.




Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht

Alles schläft; einsam wacht

Nur das traute hochheilige Paar.

Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar,

Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!

Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!




The song ended.

George bit his lip and pulled his helmet down over his eyes. Today was not the day for Christmas cheer.

He rolled his eyes in annoyance as the enemy broke into singing another carol. He once again recognized the tune: Adeste Fideles, known better in England as O Come All Ye Faithful.

George groaned. There was no such thing as Christmas cheer in wartime. Songs of this kind seemed inappropriate. This was war, not a Christmas party, not a family joined around a hearth on the eve of Christmas celebration. It was not where they belonged.

George sighed. He should be home right now, sitting around the fire, singing these Christmas carols with his family. He shouldn’t be dug into the frozen French mud. George tried to block out the singing. In disbelief, his eyes widened for a brief moment before he closed them as the wind cut through again, jerking tears. The men of his own lines had joined the unwelcome Christmas caroling:




Yea, Lord, we greet thee, born this happy morning;

Jesus, to thee be glory given!

Word of the Father, now in flesh, appearing!

O come, let us adore Him,

O come, let us adore Him

O come let us adore Him

Christ, the Lord.




George grimaced. Some happy morning this was. Trying to ignore the good cheer, he pulled a thin scarf up, closer to his ears. He noticed that his commanding officer had climbed out of the trench and joined a group of other commanding officers. George was stunned; what was he trying to do? Get killed? He listened intently for the fatal gunshot, but it never came and his officer soon returned without a scratch. George was stunned. What had happened? For a moment he hoped the impossible - that it was all over.

“We’ve decided to have a truce... for Christmas,” the commanding officer announced.

George pulled himself further into the corner. He didn’t want a Christmas truce. Christmas was a time of love, warmth and friendship; war was a time of hate, cold, and man against man. There was no real Christmas in war, only the date of December the twenty-fifth that would pass like every other day during this miserable war - anxiously awaiting the order to go and kill the enemy.

Some of the men cheered, others cautiously looked over the edge of the trenches. George watched them climb out, but it wasn’t for battle and no shots were fired.

The men weren’t slaughtered, and he didn’t have to get up and go over the edge of the trench.

George exhaled once again into his frozen fingers.

George noticed Marvin shuffling over to him, huffing at his pipe as usual. He sighed a bit. He wasn’t feeling particularly friendly, nor was he in the mood for conversation. A smile played at his lips though, remembering Marvin’s kindness.

“You gonna go over, friend?” he asked.

George shook his head. No one had called him that since… James had. And now James was gone.

“Come on, I think it would do you good.” Marvin nudged George’s shoulder.

George shook his head again. He was tired. Tired of war, and fighting. Tired of men who pretended like it was over, who would only return to fighting in a matter of hours. Plus, he couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t a trick by the enemy to kill them all. He just wanted to be left alone. Nothing would make the ache in his heart any less.

“I know you’re hurting, George, but you have to start healing. You can’t live like this.”

“Like what?” George rolled his eyes.

“Hiding from the world, life, barring yourself from others. You can’t close yourself off from relationships because of fear. Don’t think that going home will fix anything, because it won’t. It’ll only make things worse. I’ve seen things, George. I’ve seen men come back from home. Things weren’t the same as when they left. You won’t be the same after fighting like this. No one will.”

Marvin shifted his weight a bit uneasily, then tilted his head toward the makeshift ladder leaning against the side of the trench. “Why don’t you go over? Say goodbye to James and bury him? Eh? I think it’ll do you good, friend.”

George pulled a blanket around his shoulders. It was a good point. Maybe he could find James and give him a proper burial.

“Maybe,” George mumbled.

“Okay.” The man wandered off and went up over the side of the trench.

For the first time in a long time, George was alone.

He shivered in the cold as he heard the other soldiers laugh and pop open the few drinks that were to be found in the sparse trenches. He never drank much, but he found himself craving some of the warmth that it offered.

George sighed. If James had been there he would have been the first one out, the first one to celebrate… He would have sung with the men… George had to admit that the one song in three languages was spell-binding. Men who had become hardened by war were singing songs of a young babe in a manger, men who likely had families at home waiting for them, men who needed the savior they sang of. There was something in its sound that mere words could not describe.




George sighed again. His mind kept replaying what Marvin had suggested - to go bury James. After fighting the idea for some time, George finally gave in and no amount of self pity could keep him from grabbing a shovel and climbing out of the trench. He had to find James’ body.

He did his best to find the part of the trench that he had been in when he had to toss James out. That night after the battle had been such a blur, but he looked for the familiar sight of sand bags that were stacked along the edges of the trenches. As he walked along the trenches the sounds of the joy and cheer of men drifted through the air.

He tried to block the noise out; there was nothing joyful about trying to find a lost friend. There was nothing to sing about.

When he noticed things looking vaguely familiar, George began dusting the snow off the faces of those that had been killed. After some short searching, he found him. Pain shot through him at the sight and he wished he could keep searching. Part of him wished he never found him. So cold, so pale… so lifeless. Dead.

George blinked back threatening tears and wandered off a bit to try and find a suitable place to dig a grave. Finding the right place seemed impossible in a war torn land. In reality, it was. No grave out here would be fit for James.

George thrust the shovel into the frozen mud, his passion driving each heap of mud furiously from the growing hole. Some flew up in little bits into his face, but the tears streaming from his eyes washed it away.

The mud grew more packed together as he got deeper down, and George bit into his lip ‘til he tasted blood. Exhaustion threatened to topple him into the freshly dug grave, but he resisted as another biting wind chewed through his jacket, making the desire to keep warm overtake the desire to cease his hurried movements.

Finally, he reached deep enough to bury the body. He collapsed at the opening of the grave and sobs once again racked his body. James had been his dearest friend, practically a brother.

He thought of the last time that he and James had sat together at the warm hearth, the last time they had laughed together, the last time they had spoken. He thought of his failure to protect James and bring him home safely. He wished it would have been him that had run ahead when the shell exploded. That it was his body that was hurled through the air.

It was over now, James was gone.

He pulled himself up despite the tears and went over to the body as another wave of tears threatened to once again stream down his face. He took a deep breath, then knelt beside his friend.

He gently touched James’ face, brushing the stray hairs from eyes that were glassy and cold. George gently lifted James and brought him over to where he would finally be at rest.

A final thought crossed his mind. James’ family would probably appreciate one last memory of James. George gently laid James down and carefully pulled the well-worn jacket off. As he did so, a small book, the size of a large wallet, fell out. Without thinking, George picked it up and set it in his pocket. After this gruesome task was done he gently lowered James into the makeshift grave.

If only James could be buried in a nice churchyard grave with a service. What this man, friend, soldier and brother had done for his country deserved to be remembered. George looked down into the grave. This man had done better than he could ever do. He thought over what should be at the burial service. There would be a hymn, a message, a eulogy… but he was too overcome with grief to say anything.

Silently, George began to shovel the dirt onto his friend’s body, wishing that he could be in the grave with him. The shovel felt heavier than it had before, perhaps because this was the final goodbye. He’d never see James’ face again. George shoveled the dirt back. He watched as it slowly covered his friend.

After he had filled the hole he flattened it best he could. He found a couple twigs and shaped them into a cross using some of the barbed wire that was abundant in no-man’s-land. He stuck the make-shift cross into the freshly disturbed mud and surveyed his work. George was surprised by how neat it looked in the midst of a battlefield covered in knots of barbed wire and strewn with bodies of men. As George scanned the battle field, this small piece of order was quickly lost in the chaos of no-man’s-land.

George glanced up as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“You did it, brother,” a familiar voice said. The faint light from his pipe highlighted enough of his features for George to recognize Marvin with a small smile.

George sniffed, wiping his frozen nose with his equally frozen index finger, then nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Come join us. We’re gonna play football here in a bit.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on.” Marvin grabbed George's shoulders and led him to where the men were organizing. George offered little resistance since part of him was a bit curious. “Found another teammate for us.” Marvin announced.

The other men cheered.

George managed a smile. It had been a long time since he had done that. Smile. It felt good.

George felt a feeling of panic spread through him as he noticed a German soldier was on his side of the field. It felt so odd. Before the war, he wouldn’t have thought twice about sharing the road with a German, but now it was different. The panic dissipated as the game began and he was soon engrossed in the game of football, ignoring the nationalities of his teammates, ignoring where he was and what would likely commence in the morning. That would be more serious than any game these men had ever played when they were boys. War had a way of making boys into men. Kicking the ball made out of helmets seemed to be more fun than when he remembered playing as a boy.

After the game ended, some of the men laughed, told stories, and George found himself wrapped up in James’ jacket in front of a small fire that had been started.

He sat there, looking around at the faces of the men he had been shooting at for the past few months. They were real people. It hurt them when a friend died. They had hearts. Most of them hadn’t chosen to join; the choice was made for them.

George regretted making the choice to join, yet at the same time he knew that there was no way he would have been able to stay in his warm home with his family, knowing that there were men just like him giving their lives in this war. George sighed as he reflected. This war had taken so much from him: his health, his best friend, his trust in God….

The last one scared him a bit. He didn’t really want to admit that he had nearly ceased to trust God. He had too many questions that needed answers, and he didn’t know where to find them.

He pulled James’ jacket tighter as the sun finally fell below the horizon, and his hand brushed across something he didn’t remember putting in his pocket. He pulled it out, raising his eyebrows a bit in curiosity and holding it closer to the fire to provide light. It was a book. It was leather. It had a bullet embedded in its center.

George carefully pried the bullet out and opened the front page. It occurred to him that this was what had fallen out of James’ jacket when he had taken it off his body. It had belonged to James… and it was apparent that this book had literally saved James’ life at some point. Tears once again threatened to spill, but George held them back. He didn’t know when the Bible had saved James, but he was grateful that this little book had given him one more day with his friend. For a moment, he could only stare at the book.

Finally, he flipped through the pages. Dirt stained the edges, and some pages had blood on them. George hoped it wasn’t James’ blood. The book so absorbed George’s attention that he hardly noticed when some of the men began returning to their trenches.

As the fire died down, to the point George could no longer make out the small words on the pages, he realized he was one of a few remaining soldiers left and got up to start heading back to his own lines. He was interrupted from his daze at the sight of the fresh mud and cross that marked James’ grave. After blinking back tears, he looked up into the night sky as the stars began to make their appearance. A peaceful smile came to his lips as a sigh left them and lifted up a silent prayer. He would not let his next friend down like he had James.

George wandered back to his division's area of the trench. The familiar voices of the other men he had been around for the past few months and the extra row of sand bags along the top told him this was his home for now. He threw himself into the eight-foot-deep trench. It was cold. And slippery where the water had turned to ice. George struggled to keep his footing.

Tired from the events of the day, he fell onto his accustomed seat. Deep in thought about everything that had happened, he composed a letter to his wife.




Dearest Mabel,

I don't know when you'll receive this, but the most extraordinary thing happened this evening. I'm sure the commanding officers, who are safely hidden at the back of the lines, will not be happy, but this thing has done a good deal for me.

It started when the enemy started playing one of their traditional carols. As they moved into the next one, our men joined in. I've never heard anything so beautiful in my life. It is often hard to realize that in war, men can still celebrate good cheer. It's hard to remember when you are in a war that man is still capable of doing good things. There was a truce declared for Christmas. I was, at first, so heavily lost in sorrow as it is still hard for me to acknowledge that James is truly gone and I will never have Christmas with him.

I miss you and Jenny sorely today. It's Christmas Eve and today is meant to be shared with family and friends. Not in some muddy frozen trench. I think all of us feel lonely.

I haven't been able to really make friends with any of the men. I'm scared to get close to anyone. I might lose them like I did James. I don't know how I would handle that. I don't know if I could.

Every day I fear something might possess me to go over and get myself killed, like that one man. It is truly a frightening thought. Sometimes I think I might be losing my mind.

I don't know how much longer I can hold together. Losing James is by far the hardest thing I've been through. I don't know how to process it. James was such a dear friend, I don't know how long I can go on without his company.

While sitting at a small campfire this evening I found James' Bible. I found out that he had been hit by a bullet. That Bible saved his life. I'm wondering if it can save mine too, but in a different way. Perhaps it’s time I sought God more.

Your husband,



George

Merry Christmas y'all! I'll likely be back sometime before New Years for a Yearly Wrap Up post.

Blessings,

Mattie May, The Blossoming Writer

Exciting Announcement!!!

Hello Readers!

I'm sorry I didn't post earlier this month, but I have been busy getting ready for the announcement I am going to be sharing with y'all today. I am *so* excited to tell y'all about this! There is also a very much less exciting announcement at the end. 

As most of you probably know, I love history and I especially get excited about women in history. I also love telling others about history and learning more myself! So, I decided to combine my passion for writing and history and telling stories into one thing. 

....

I'm starting a podcast!!! 

I'm calling it Blossoms of Courage, a podcast that will encourage the women of today with the women of yesterday. My goal is to launch it on June 1st. And I'm stuck between mild panic and excitement as I try and pull everything together. 

Anyway, if you want to learn more, you can check out the Facebook page Here! and check out the blog Here!

Please follow, like, and join me in learning about these amazing women of courage! 

....

Not so exciting news...

FeedBurner is taking away its option to follow by email in the next month or so... I will be either switching to a new site or figuring out how to set up a newsletter type thing so y'all can get updates on my writing and such things. I'll keep y'all updated on any upcoming changes. And what I decide to do in the end.

That is all for now y'all. I hope you have a lovely rest of your week and Memorial Day weekend!

Blessings,

Mattie May

Life Update and Other Randomness

 

Hello Readers!

    I can't believe it's already nearly April! These few months of 2021 have flown by. I'm sorry I haven't posted on here in nearly forever, but life went down and I went down with it... I'll try to explain. 

    Since the week of Valentine's day, I have been on an internet fast or reset, depending on who in my family you ask. At first, it was extremely challenging I really struggled with the decisions that my parents made, but as life has gone on and I've seen the benefits and understood where they were coming from, I appreciate the steps they took. Not only has my relationship with them been strengthened, but my relationship with God and with my sisters has flourished during this time. As with any other fast/reset, it's best not to go all the way back on the first day. Since that kinda defeats the purpose of the fast in the first place. So for all of you wondering where I disappeared to... that's where. 

    In my last post here I told y'all that I was dealing with writer's burnout. I'm happy to say that I've recovered... or at least recovered enough where I don't feel like I'm living in a black hole. 

    I've done a lot of reading these past few weeks:

1. Johanna and Henriette Kuyper: Daring to Change their world (Chosen Daughters Series), Abigail Van Der Velde

This one is a reread and I started before the reset. I finished within the first few weeks. It was honestly amazing. Johanna and Henriette have quickly climbed the ladder of my favorite women of history. 

2. Hammer of the Huguenots, Douglas Bond

For those of you who know me, you know that Douglas Bond is one of my favorite HisFic authors. This book was fascinating. I'm fairly familiar with the Reformation in France, and the St. Bartholomew's day Massacre, but this book focused on the events leading up to St. Bartholomew's day. I find books like this very inspiring to my faith. 

3. The Hobgoblins, Douglas Bond

This book tells the story of John Bunyan from the POV of his childhood friend Harry Wylie. Harry's POV is entertaining and the use of old English is charming. John Bunyan is such an interesting person I'd recommend this book wholeheartedly. 

4. The White Rose Resists, Amanda Barratt

A year or two ago my family and I watched the film Sophie Scholl: the Final days. This book shares the story of Hans and Sophie Scholl in detail. For those who don't know, White Rose was a group of college students who were from WWII Germany and dared to write leaflets against Hitler, a crime punishable by death.

 I think my favorite part of the book was that it was written in 1st person. I honestly love 1st person. It's personal and beautiful. My favorite character was Kirk Hoffman, one of the fictional characters. I liked him because of his view of soldiers, as in one part he muses on the life that each man has. I've done that several times and it was really neat to see someone else think the same way, even if they were fictional. Sophie was also a favorite. I liked how she reached out to Analise, who is another fictional character. If you get anything from this short review, it should be: READ THIS BOOK NOW! 

5. Dr. Oma: The Healing Wisdom of Countess Julianna Von Stolberg (the Chosen Daughter Series), Ethel Herr

This was a reread and I don't regret it. Julianna was the mother of Prince William the Silent of Orange (he married Charlotte de Bourbon, who is a favorite lady of the Reformation of mine). Julianna went through a lot of hardship and struggles, losing three sons to the religious wars in the Netherlands at that time. Herr did an amazing job of telling the story through the eyes of Julianna's granddaughter, Maria Princess of Orange. 

That's all the fiction I read... I'm sure you can't tell what kind of books I like...

I've also done some writing and if you check the Writing page of this blog you can read two of my newest poems. 

To close out this blog post, I'd like to recommend Isa. 58, I've so blessed by all fourteen beautiful verses. 

On that note, I'll close this blog post with the hope I can post again soon. 

Blessings,

Mattie May

Have you ever done a fast/reset before? What have you been reading?

Let me know in the comments! 

Book Review: Blood and Silver by Vali Benson

 

Hello Readers! 

I had the privilege to read and review Benson's debut novel Blood and Silver, so with no further ado, enjoy the review. 

Synopsis:

What is a twelve-year-old girl to do when she finds herself in the silver boomtown of Tombstone, Arizona, in 1880, and her only home is a brothel and her only parent is a drug-addicted mother? If she is Carissa Beaumont, she outsmarts the evil madam and figures a way out.

After tricking the madam, Miss Lucille, into summoning a doctor for her mother, Lisette, she discovers that Miss Lucille has been drugging her. She and the kind doctor make a plan to try to save Lisette by dosing her down on the drug.

Doctor Henderson tells Carissa that the only source for the drug is a Chinese immigrant named China Mary, who lives in Hoptown, at the other end of Tombstone. Carissa has no choice but to go to the powerful woman for help. Many say that China Mary is the one who really controls Tombstone.

China Mary admires Carissa's brave spirit and uses her influence to get her a job at the new Grand Hotel, which will free Carissa from her many duties at Miss Lucille's. She will work along with Mary's twelve-year-old niece, Mai-Lin. The two girls become fast friends.

Then, disaster strikes, and the two girls must work together to stay alive.

With a host of colorful characters and meticulous attention to period detail, Blood and Silver is a story of the best and worst of human nature, the passion for survival, and the beauty of true friendship.

***

Blood and Silver is a historical fiction novel that shows what life was like in the silver mining town of Tombstone AZ. It follows the story of a young girl who wants more than anything else for her and her mother to escape their employer. 

I enjoyed the fact that Benson paid attention to historical accuracy and included actual people living in Tombstone. I also appreciated that each of the characters had a distinct voice. Carissa and Mai-Lin's friendship was very sweet. 

The only thing I disliked about the story was the occasional misuse of the Lord's name. 

If you're looking for historical fiction with colorful characters and the feeling of the Old West, you'll enjoy this story! 

***

That's all for today, y'all! I'll hopefully have another post before the month ends... but we'll see. 

Blessings,

Mattie May

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Women of the Reformation: Lady Jane Grey ~ Guest post by Al

 

Hello Readers!

I'm so excited to bring you a guest post on one of my other favorite women of the reformation, Lady Jane Grey! 

Al is a teen HisFic writer from NZ. She is currently working on a story that takes place during the 5th Century in England. Al enjoys writing, reading, and going on adventures. 

***

~Lady Jane Grey~

    Hello there! I’m Al.

    For as long as I can remember, Lady Jane Grey has been one of my favourite historical figures. Her story and the way she kept up incredible faith throughout many trials is so inspirational to me. She was a teenager when she died, but managed to leave a forgotten legacy everyone should know about.

    

    Jane was born around 1537. Through her mother’s lineage, she had a very distant claim to the throne, but not enough to give her the title of princess. She was educated by the best tutors, learning Latin, Greek, French, Hebrew, and Italian. She loved to read, preferring it over popular sports of the time, such as hunting.

    

    At nine years old, her parents sent her away to live with Catherine Parr, the late King Henry VIII’s widow. It is said Jane was glad to go, as she was regularly beaten and chastised by her parents, though there is little proof of this. She enjoyed her new life with Catherine and her husband, Thomas Seymour, but her joy was short-lived. Catherine died in childbirth a few years later, and Thomas was sent to the executioner's block for treason.

    Thereafter, Jane spent most of her time at court. Her scheming father and the Duke of Northumberland began to devise a plot that would ultimately be her downfall. Jane was forced to marry Northumberland’s son Guildford, who she barely knew. It was around this time King Edward VI was taken very ill and wrote out his Device For Succession. With Northumberland’s persuasion, Edward appointed Jane and any of her male heirs as his successors, as he didn't want his catholic sister Mary to undo his Protestant reforms. It’s speculated Northumberland himself forged the postscript which would make his daughter-in-law queen, but no proof has been found.

    Within weeks, Edward passed away. Jane was proclaimed queen by the nobles, despite her resistance to the idea. However, Edward’s sister Mary had the support of the populace and made it clear she wouldn’t stand for Jane’s theft of her title. With an army, she marched through the country, gaining support as she went. On July 19, most of the nobles relented and proclaimed Mary queen, even Jane’s father. After a nine-day reign, Jane was imprisoned in the Tower of London, alongside her husband.

    Jane pleaded guilty to treason for usurping the throne and was sentenced to death. She was given many chances to relinquish her Protestant religion in favour of Catholicism, in the hopes her soul would be saved before she died, but she held fast to her faith. 

    On February 15, sixteen-year-old Jane was forced to watch her husband’s execution, before meeting her own untimely fate on the chopping block.

    Many people have said Jane fell victim to the schemes of the traitorous men in her life, but I believe God used her to do great things. She may not have been queen for very long, but her incredible faith is still an inspiration to us today. Her life was not easy, yet she worked through it, knowing God had a purpose for her and believing she could fulfill it.

    In a letter to her sister before she died, Jane wrote these inspirational words: 

‘It [The Bible] is the testament and last will which He bequeathed unto us wretches and wretched sinners which shall lead you to the path of eternal joy and if you, with a good mind read it and with an earnest desire follow it, no doubt it shall bring you to an immortal and everlasting life.’ 

It is clear Jane went to her end knowing she had gained the gift of eternal life.

    We can all learn something valuable from Jane’s story. I encourage you to read more about this incredible young woman and read the entire letter she wrote to her sister before her death. Letter by Lady Jane Grey

***

That's all for today, y'all! 

Blessings,

Mattie May and Al

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NaNoWriMo Annoucement an October Posting Schedule!

Hello All! 

I'm super excited about today's post!

First I'm going to go over what I'm posting in October, Lord willing 😅

I'm going to do two posts on two different women of the Reformation time period, I'm going to have a fellow HisFic writer, do a third one! 😀I'm not sure what the 4th week of October looks like, but we'll see! 😄 

I'd like to officially announce my current WIP (which is what I will be drafting for NaNoWriMo!) This novel is set during The Great War, now known as World War One. I've always wanted a write a story during this era, so I'm super excited about this! 

For fun, I designed a cover and have a working title! 

Working Summary: 

Kenneth is fighting for the Navy in The Great War. Jenny is a simple girl from the English countryside; longing to do all she can to help with the war effort in any way she can, like her Mother. An anxious woman, a part of the Red Cross searching for a lost husband. George is a devoted husband and father. He longs to get home to his blind daughter and worried wife. A couple with a son fighting in the war volunteer to care for a young blind girl. Allan is a soldier on his way to ANZAC. Only time will tell if he and the other brave soldiers will come out alive. A tale of bravery, hardship, and tears, On The Field, tells the story of the brave husbands, fathers, sweethearts, and brothers fighting in The Great War. 

And now for the MC's: 

Jenny Blair:

She is my most developed character so far... she has a special board thing for her: 

George and Mabel Blair:

Parents of Jenny, George joins the Marines and Mabel helps with the Red Cross. We won't talk about what author schemes I have planned for them. *evil laughter* 

Kenneth Martin:

My navy guy. I'm really excited about him for a few reasons. One, since my great-grandpa on my dad's side, had the middle name of Kenneth, and second, both Daddy and his daddy, Papa, were in the Navy.

Those are my MC's I have a few supporting characters that I'm also very excited about, but they have yet to be better developed.

That's all for now folks. Hope y'all enjoyed a peek at what I'm working on! 

Blessings,

Mattie May, The Blossoming Writer 

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Interview with Author Kellyn Roth!

 

Hello Readers! 

I'm so excited about this, I had so much fun getting to interview Kellyn and I hope y'all enjoy the interview as much I did! 

First, a little bit about Kellyn, before we get started!

Kellyn Roth is a Christian historical women’s fiction & romance author from North-Eastern Oregon who has independently published multiple novels, the most notable being The Chronicles of Alice and Ivy series. You should definitely call her Kell.

Kell lives on family-owned property outside an unmemorable but historical town with her parents, two little brothers, arbitrary cat, precious border collies, a dozen cows, and lots of chickens. She also possesses a classic, vintage aesthetic which does not at all speak to her country girl side, but such is life.

When not writing, Kell likes to blog, teach writing to her various students, have day jobs which allow her to keep her car properly insured, and spend lavish amounts of money on Dairy Queen french fries. She also likes to talk about Keira Knightley and her own books. Just … way too much. You’ve been warned.

***

~And now, for the interview!~

Mattie: What first inspired you to write?  

Kell: Honestly, there wasn't any one thing. I've been writing stories since I was seven, and before that, my family would write down stories, poems, and songs for me! So I frankly have no clue. I just always have!

Mattie: That's really neat. ^-^ 

Who has encouraged you the most in your writing journey? 

Kell: It's varied a lot from year to year! But it's always been my writing friends, whoever they are in any given season. And, of course, my "real life" friends, who wrote with me and eventually just encouraged me to keep writing. They're really awesome. To name drop - Sonja, Eva, Aimee, and my bestie Bailey.

Mattie: That's neat. My writing friends have been a great encouragement to me as well. 

Why do you write Historical Fiction?

Kell: Because modern-day life is super boring, but I'm not creative enough for fantasy! 😉 But also, I believe history needs to be shared so we don't repeat mistakes - and people need to be better understood regardless of the era.

Mattie: That's very relatable for me. 🙂 

What is your favorite period of history to write about?

Kell: I honestly struggle to pick one, but I do love the 1940s. There's something so snappy about it, from the dialogue to the intense, horrible situations. It has a marvelous chaotic energy.

Mattie: As I've been looking at your novels and short-stories, it seemed that a few were set in that time frame 😉 

Who are some of your favorite Historical fiction authors?

Kell: Well, I have quite a few, but some that come to mind are Kristi Ann Hunter, Karen Witemeyer, Tamera Alexander, Sarah Sundin, Roseanna M. White, Regina Jennings, Julie Klassen, Jesseca Wheaton, and Carrie Turansky

Mattie: I've heard of some of them, I'll have to look into the rest 🙂 

How much research do you normally do before beginning the writing process?

Kell: It depends a lot on the book! Like, for some, especially if it's a continuation of a series, not much at all. For others, I'll have several books to read. But usually I do quite a bit of research mid-draft or while editing, usually for small details.

Mattie: Will you be participating in NaNoWriMo this year?

Kell: Almost certainly! I just haven't chosen a project. 😜 I really have to get on that, says I as I continue to do other things. I'll probably choose just a few days before!

Mattie: What is your current WIP/s about? 

Kell: Well, a couple things I'm working on include:

1. Book 3 in my series, The Chronicles of Alice and Ivy, which finally have me writing about Alice as an adult!
2. A novella from that same series set between book 2 and book 3.

  3. A new novel that is a bit of a secret, but it's a Regency romance with a lot of mistaken identities, failed schemes, and ridiculous characters.

Mattie: All of those sound really neat!

What times of the day are your most productive?

Kell: Usually sometime after 10 PM. Unfortunately, I have to be getting to sleep an hour after that! So I make myself work whenever.

Mattie: How much do you plan before writing a novel? 

Kell: I'm the kind of writer who does a pretty detailed outline - I like to know exactly what the characters are going to do at all times. However, I'm not the type to fill out detailed character sheets or such - the characters can develop themselves as far as I'm concerned. It's the plot that needs a little work!

Mattie: How do you get past writer's block? Or are you one of those special people who doesn't get it?

Kell: I do get it, but I just write anyways! I always say writing is no super special creative itch that you somehow can only scratch at certain times. It's a trained skill - and it is possible to train yourself to write on command. That said, there are times when writers need a break - it's important to avoid mistaking burnout for writer's block.

Mattie: That's neat, and a good thing to keep in mind.

Could you tell us a bit about your Growing Writers Program?

Kell: Well, essentially, I'm joining with Faith Blum and Zach Sollie to offer a 12-week program for young writers looking for instruction, encouragement, and critique in the art of fiction writing. Basically, it's our way to offer an advanced course that will help beginners level up as writers. I also do writing coaching on various subjects privately.

Mattie: What would be your piece of advice to a young or beginning writer?

Kell: I'd say "stick with it and don't be prideful because we can all improve and we all need critique to do so."

Mattie: Which is your favorite novel/short story you've written? 

Kell: I think right now that'd be The Dressmaker's Secret. I'm immensely proud of my recent rewrite!

Mattie: Do you have a favorite character from your works or another's? 

Kell: I have quite a few! I adore Peter Strauss, Jordy McAllen, and from my latest project, the unannounced one, a guy named Philip Harriot.

Mattie: Is there anything in particular that makes those characters your favorites?

Kell: Well, Peter is just the gentlest, sweetest, best person on earth. I would die for him - and, probably, he'd die for the world if asked! He's also got the best thoughts on everything.

Jordy is ... well, he has the same personality and habits of my best friend, Bailey. 

Then Philip is just fun. I enjoy writing him with his carefree snark and his lack of concern for what others think of him.

Mattie: Anything else you'd like to share with us? 

Kell: Hmm, no, I think I'm good. Thanks so much for interviewing me!

Mattie: You're so welcome, I had fun!

***

That's a wrap folks, hope y'all enjoyed the interview! 

If you want to learn more about Kell check out her blog here: Lilacs and Reveries. If you'd like to learn more about her lovely books, you can check them out here: Kellyn's Books! You can buy her books on Amazon here: Amazon ~ Kellyn Roth Author.

Have a lovely rest of your week! 

Blessings,

Mattie May

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Why I Write HisFic Pt 3 + And 2 Special Announcements!

Hello Readers! 

Welcome to Why I write HisFic Part 3! 

Last week I talked about why HisFic is important, and this week I'm going to talk about why history inspires me and gives me hope!

Make sure you read to the end for two very special and exciting announcements! 

Let's get started, shall we? 

History is real. It really happened. (Oh wow, imagine that!) Other genres don't have that. Because it's real, it's easy for me to relate to, even if it took place hundreds of years ago. Because it's real, it inspires me. 

History gives me hope, and history inspires me. 

History gives me hope: 

It shows me that normal people can overcome crazy difficulties and trials. I love reading and learning about people who were the least likely, and God did amazing things through them. It gives me hope that one day, maybe I'll be able to do something. 

History inspires me:

I love to read and learn about the young men and women in history who did amazing things; they show me that as a young woman I can do things too. I might not speak five languages or tutor in a royal court, but I can do things in my own life, world, and country. 

History shows that even in the darkest moments, God is still there. God still cares, and God is going to work through the toughest situations. He's still on the throne. It inspires me to keep trusting and keep living because I have hope.

***

I hope you've enjoyed reading this series as much as I have in writing it. In case you were starting to feel sad that it was going to come to an end... as all good things must. It is not the end... yet. I'm very excited to announce that I will be interviewing author and writing coach Kellyn Roth! 

I recently found her through an email I got about her recently started Growing Writers program (which ya'll should totally go check out at this link: Growing Writers Program.) 

If you want to learn more about Kellyn and her lovely books, you can visit her website here: kellynrothauthor.com! 

And now, for the second announcement! *insert drum roll* 

Everlasting Gold is back on Amazon! It's finally done! Such a relief. Check it out and see the slightly revised cover here: Everlasting Gold paperback

And that's all, for now, folks, have a lovely rest of your week! 

Blessings,

Mattie May

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Why I Write Historical Fiction Pt. 2

 

Hello Readers! 

This post is part of a short series I'm doing on why I write HisFic. Today I'm focusing on why it's so important. 

Let's get started, shall we? 

I heard a most concerning conversation while swimming at my Grandparent's pool a couple weeks ago. Two kids were talking, I'd guess they were in their early teens. The kids were talking about school starting up with COVID and what it's like, then they moved to their favorite subjects. Neither one liked history. The younger of the two asked if the older one if they knew who the sixteenth president of the US was. Neither one knew. Neither one cared. It shocked me. 

Most kids these days don't like history. I honestly don't blame them. What they teach for history in the public schools these days isn't what really happened. History today has been twisted to fit the agenda of those who want us to forget God, forget what really happened, forget that socialism is a bad idea. 

Daddy said that as a kid, history was boring, nothing new, or exciting. Just as one character in the audio drama by Heirloom Audio put it: "History is nothing but dead men and dates." That might be one way to look at it, but as I've dug deeper and deeper into the history of the world, I'm always finding new things. I'm always learning about a new person, place, or event. In my opinion, history is far from boring. 

History is the key to the past, if we don't understand what really happened all those years ago we are going to repeat mistakes over and over again. 

I write historical fiction because I want to know what happened. Most writers shy away from this genre because the amount of research is scary, takes too much time. Why do that when you could create your own world? 

Historical fiction is important to me because I want people to know about the brave men and women who took a stand for what was right. I want people to know of the battles fought, won, and lost. I want people to know that even when things couldn't get any darker, there was a light. There is hope. 

Blessings,

Mattie May 

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