Young Writers Society

Yep, yep! I'm writing again. I'm curious if I'll be accepted for publishing but even if I don't, the most important thing is that I'm writing again, and thanks goes for the extra shove of the second edition of the YWS Literary Journal. The Journal has become my newfound driving force to keep my motivated.

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So, I bet you're wondering what I'm working on and why I've claimed my new project involved, yes? Well, of course, the story is Historical Fiction. That's a no brainer but the mangitude of this event I've chosen, there's so much involved.

The title keeps changing so for the moment, I'm keeping it as "Cowbells" until I finished the general layout of the storyline. I'm now toying with the idea of keeping the title just "Bells," because the symbolism of them keeping resurfacing. They have been this writer's constant reminder; the bells remind me of the absolute, charged nature of what I'm breathing life back into. They ring, rallying, uniting the people, which have established their own mini army of sorts against a lone soldier at his post. The bells also have been used to antagonize the said soldier who stood outside the Customs House in the cool, winter month - March 5th. So yes, bells have become important -- which was an element I had not planned. It was the characters'.

If you haven't guessed, the story is about the Boston Massacre. As it has turned out, I actually have no main character -- which is odd -- but something that again my characters have decided for me. At first, I wanted to work in the First Person, my preferred method, and Thomas Preston would have been my main character but as I began, my POV ended up in the Third Person and astoundingly, the narration is not in colonial dialect. For those who have read my work, might be familar that almost all my stories, narration or dialogue, are as if "how they talked in the day." Instead, the narration is modern but only do I see the colonial speech come forth in the character's thoughts or speech; this has been different for me to accept. It almost feels weird too.

Instead, as I began writing and watching the plot unfold, both historically and fictionally, I discovered my desire for this project. Without a main character, it means my reader cannot fully fall in love or grow any sort of attachment to anyone. This of course in most cases, would be a real problem. After much thought, my desire is this: I do not want my reader to just be saavy with the Massacre in terms if information, I want them to truly feel the nature of everything that transpired on a cold, wintery night on King Street. After all, a revolution nearly birthed itself after.

Currently, I'm finishing up with my Highland Scot and then I move directly into Preston's delemma with his man stranded in front of the Customs House.

I believe after the final edit, there will be tremendous amount of changes and all these little tiny details that make the story whole and complete such as the effigies.

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Aside from where I stand in completion, which is a long way off yet, I'm glad I'm not alone, knowledge wise. I spoke to a friend of mine a few days ago. He protrays Capt. John Enys in the Regiment, my Commander, but anyway, he told me if I ever needed help, ask.

"If we're going to do this, it has to be done right."

I spoke to another friend from a different regiment a few days ago. Before he signed off, he wished me luck for whatever absurd detail(s) were to come to mind during these late night, writing sessions.

I hope I don't let them down. LOL! Of course, it's only a joke. I can only do my best and rise above the challege that awaits me.

After a few days of letting my mind rest, recharging my imagination in a nutshell, I'm finished with my Scot. I feel I info-dumped and I hit the reader with his backstory but in a short story, I couldn't find any other solution. At any rate, for the time being, I'm leaving his story the way it's written. I'll edit later.

Thus far, I've noticed a pattern. The women have do not have names... Why? Not sure exactly. Ask the cast.

I do know one thing. Me thinks I'm going to have to drag out my maps of colonial Boston. I'm considering of using other street names other than just King Street. But alas, I must first press forward through the muck and grime and get the story itself finished.

Glaring mistakes.

Gah...

As it was pointed out to me about a week ago, a soldier that was walking the Guard, he would have had his bayonet affixed. Thus, with the bayonet attached, his gun is longer called a firelock but an "arm." Think of a pike.

Anyway, this soldier that's trapped, I totally took off with my imagination at full speed, which meant that he ended up priming and loading his "firelock." Oups...

I was going to ignore this mistake and just finish the story but man, I'm really twitching here.

Make sure you all do your homework when writing Historical Fiction! Admitedly, I goofed, and big time. I can post the excerpt here because it will not be used or seen again in the manuscript.

Really, the backstory was pretty much junk anyway. Without the dialogue quickly following up afterwards, this info-dump (done on purpose) wouldn't have been able to stand on its own. Even so, it's pretty weak.

Let me know what you think.

He came to Massachusetts, alone, at the age of nineteen. His family’s land in the Highlands of Scotland eventually exhausted itself. No longer able to produce crops, the potatoes ran ragged, the corn fit to feed rodents and the vegetables were no more successful than to satisfy a starving cat. The Burdick Family sold a few sickly ewes for slaughtering and a cow whose milk was not plentiful enough for a small sum. But, like all good fortunes, they eventually run dry and the family one year, on one of the coldest eves of February; Benjamin’s father had no choice. He went out to the barn and with him, he held a hatchet in the right hand and his son’s catstick – which is all he found suitable enough to stun the remaining ewes – in his left. His father dragged the meat inside the house and the family had a reasonable feast. The remains were thrown into the pit that fueled the fire. Their wool was saved.
His mother expired “mysteriously.” Doctor Joseph Warren was baffled and could not offer Benjamin’s father or he a reasonable explanation except perhaps the meat that the family ate two days before went foul; the slabs were not cooked properly. Doctor Warren remarked how odd it was for a person to depart so sudden, with the only physical trace of illness: Her lips were a deep, blue hue when her husband discovered her in bed in the wee morning. Cold, hard and lifeless.

I guess the whole story goes into the archives and maybe I'll use this backstory for someone else in the future.

Sitting here and glancing at the cannonball every now and again. Yes, I really do own a cannonball, a small, fist-size one. I'm also looking at my copy of "The Boston Massacre" by Hiller B. Zobel, which I'm using for reference this time around. So, yep!

The problem is, while I've always been intrigued by the "Massacre," this story has been slow going as far as establishing my character's roles, bringing forth the plot that should for all intensive purposes, keep intensifying, drawing in the reader to the climax. Er... I don't think I've succeed with any of that yet. For this reason, it's been somewhat more difficult to keep on task. Perhaps when I start working with Capt. Thomas Preston again, things will perk up and the pace will quicken.

We'll see...

But yeah, I have little over 2k words to show for it, which is terrible for me. ; )

I can say, I've started to grow an attachment to Burdick, Carr too on some levels. I've never worked with either and it's sort of fun to watch how their personalities develope. I've worked with Preston briefly, however, in the past when writing "Bound for Glory."

Must stab.

3:07 PM I just finished up with my two Celts - finally - and very pleased how their characters turned out. It took weeks, especially for Burdick, who was a temporary thorn in my side, Carr, being easier to master, but both characters are completed. Both are absolute butt heads, which is a good thing. They both played their role in different perspective but these two were instigators in their own special way.

And I don't know for sure but I think the readers will probably agree.

Also, I believe I'm going to have some fun with my young, inexperienced Officer, a Lieutenant, who just barely crashed into a tree while not paying attention. This was my opportunity, and finally, I showed the infamous, "Join, or Die!" depiction.

I'm also have quite a lot of fun, certainly getting my jollies out of the mob and how they respond to a lone Private. There are so many doors open with the mob that it's endless what I can do. I could easily get carried away but I'm trying not to go overboard. I did, however, finally saw some of the energy that needs to be seen with the "Massacre's" nature and it was done today through Christopher Monk as he reminded the Bostonians, as he shouted about Sneider, the first martyr during the 18th Century.

Now, all I have to do is be extra careful in not falling into my own train of thought. After all, I AM part of the Crown. I have to make sure the story is balanced, neither favoring eaither side. The characters, atmosphere and plot should be enough to allow readers to decide in the end, which side of the fence they stand at: Patriot or Loyalist.

Hehe.

I ran into a brick wall yesturday. I searched through my books, searched briefly on the Net, even went to my copy of, "The Adams-Jefferson Letters," to find any reference to the Boston Massacre. What I sought was any type of reference to effigies being used in the street before the final clash - the volly of shots - took place, thus killing five Bostonians.

I used the following to find an answer (just so you all know how dedicated I've been - if there's been any doubts. *coughs* ):

The Adams-Jefferson Letters
Paul Revere's Ride
The Boston Massacre by Zobel
The Life and Public Services of Samuel Adams
Two books I have that specifically hone in on John Adams

And of course, I have many more books in my library which mostly are biographies but to seek the answer I wanted, I flipped quickly through the said titles in italics; I discovered zilch, lol! Soo... I went to the next source, a friend. He said he wasn't aware if effigies were ever used with the rioting.

So, there I have it. I think I can conclude that the answer is, "No," thus, I will not be editing in such a practice of how frightening and theatrical an effigy was, especially if you were the culprit.

For your reference, if you're unaware of the defination of an effigy is:

2. a crude representation of someone disliked, used for purposes of ridicule.

3. in effigy, in public view in the form of an effigy: a leader hanged in effigy by the mob.

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Alright, now that's all squared away and out of my train of thoughts, two elements have changed and the change is definite.

One, the title is official, even though I actually changed it thrice, hehe. First, it was, Shoot! We Know You Dare Not! which was actually said in the heat of the moment by some bystander, seconds before the muskets fired. But... I thought for a title, it was too dramatic and maybe a cheap alternative to snagging the reader. The plot, characters and the nature of what's happening should be enough to entertain the reader, and if I succeeded, the first sentence alone should be enough for any story to ensnare you. Second, the title became, Cowbells, because at the time I was writing cowbells were sounding off, antonizing my lone soldier. Of course, I quickly realized since I'm in the Third Person, I have the freedom now to shfit from one mindset to the next, thus I couldn't stay with my soldier the entire time. So, again, that title was discarded. Finally, I decided to settle on something simple but it's a weird title, especially if my world surrounds the "Boston Massacre." I don't think one would expect such a title would center around even Historical Fiction, but it does. Obviously. This piece is named indefinitely, Bells.

Besides the title, after some further poking around, and at 12:30 one night, thank you very much, haha, I discovered that unfortunately I'd have to erase all my lovely Highland dialect for Burdick. I ass-umed he was from Scotland because he really owed a highland basket-hilted broadsword. I've found several referenced to that tiny detail. The problem I discovered was that Burdick, like Carr, was referenced as a Celt, which meant, again like Carr, Burdick was probably Irish, not Scottish. Since Ireland and Scotland are close to each other and they share similarities - Gaelic (Scots and Irish's Gealic sound very different), I just assumed since he owned a "highland basket-hilted" (which is a Scottish weapon) broadsword, Burdick was Scottish. I'm not entirely sure if he was actually, 100% Irish either but both he and Carr have been referenced as Celts.

Soo... decesions, decesions... I don't know presently where exactly Burdick hailed from - Ireland or Scotland, and there's so little information on his background. So, I've loosely, and I mean very loosely based his character on a Scot, because of his sword. He wears a bonnet, that's it. Told you.

The bummer; in my editing frenzy, since I'm not quite ready to sit in Preston's lap just yet, I don't recall saving the old dialogue of Burdick. Oups! Ah well... What can you do?

I'm in loovvveee. *Tear* I found it! *sighs deeply*

OK, enough of the melodramatics!

I discovered, litteraly ten minutes ago, which will probably end up being my second primary source; The Legal Papers of John Adams by John Adams (himself) and by the Editors, L. Kinvin Wroth and Hiller B. Zobel.

Yeah... I have no life in the winter. But! I sure do enjoy researching to no end... Did I mention I have no life in winter?

Ha, I was just going to ask if you had seen the show, 'John Adams' - the very first episodes of which, deal with the Boston Massacre. Great stuff.

Luck with the story, Fishy

When are submissions open for the second anthology?

Thank you!

Nate said between Jan and Feb.

EDIT: And I have seen the miniseries, "John Adams."

How the 'ell do you hit a Writer's Block in a short story???

Gah...

Sometimes I wonder if being a writer is worth it. You just drive yourself into this self-professed perfectionist stage of insanity.

For amusement, I thought I'd post a minor excerpt. As I've quickly discovered, all of my characters are Non-Fiction, except those who are nameless, shouting from the mob in Boston's streets. The person in this excerpt existed. He was with Preston when the shots went off. See what I'm up against?

He frowned. Nailed to a tree, there was a picture of a snake. Basset stared at it briefly. The snake was cut into distinct segments, and each piece had the initials of one colony that had not united presently against the King. The snake’s mouth was wide open, with its tongue straight outwards. He reached out and traced the direction of each letter with his index finger. J-O-I-N O-R

“Die,” muttered Basset. He shook his head in despair. “I wish it was not read to me.”

A heavy groan escaped his lips. He tore his eyes from the snake, and hurried to meet Captain Preston.

Let me know what you think.