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Carla Olson Gade: Romancing the Snow

11/4/2012

 

This week we welcome Carla Olson Gade to Author Memories.

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A native New Englander, Carla Olson Gade grew up in an historic Massachusetts town and now lives in rural Maine with her husband and two young adult sons. Her love for writing and eras gone by turned her attention to writing historical Christian romance. 

Carla enjoys graphic design, photography, history, and genealogy. And she loves the snow, except when it gets dirty by the end of the winter. Throughout the years, Carla has taught workshops on Biblical topics, genealogy, writing, and adult literacy.


Romancing the Snow
by Carla Olson Gade 

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Romance: 
M
arked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is
heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized.


A native New Englander, I am no stranger to snow.  As a child, I always looked forward to that first snow which seemed like a miracle to me. Catching snowflakes on my tongue as they drifted down from the heavens. Tunneling through snow banks taller than I. We made snow forts and snowmen, and would slide for hours on end down steep hills. It was always worth the long trip climbing back to the top, in snow up to our knees, just to go down one more time. When our mittens were soaked, and feet nearly frozen, we’d go in for a cup of hot chocolate, put on fresh mittens and dry socks and head back outside. We’d make snow angels and imagine that they mysteriously appeared in the unscathed landscape. Or so it seemed. Snow always made everything look fresh and new. Pure, and like a dream. A blank palette for a romantic imagination such as mine.

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“As the last belated cloud legions...were passing overhead...they
contribute a few more choice examples of snow crystal architecture
as souvenirs of the skill of the Divine Artist.”

~ Wilson A. "Snowflake" Bentley
Snow, like a story, begins with something so small and delicate and can transform into a wonderland.  Like the uniqueness of every individual snowflake, we too, have our own experiences, memories, and stories to be told. Like the times I picnicked beneath the shelter of a bowing pine covered in snow. Desiring to recreate this memory with my own sons when they were young, we took a picnic a short distance from our home following a blizzard. All bundled up, we carried a thermos of cocoa and peanut butter crackers and found a spot underneath a snowy pine. The cozy moment did not last long upon my realization that a badger was snuggled within the trunk of the tree. We let this sleepy creature lay in his wintery cocoon.
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In the 19th century, Currier and Ives gave us images of a romantic New England winters with landscapes of sloping hills of snow, ice skating, and horse drawn sleighs. With every picture, I see a story and often long to put words to the scenes portrayed. This notion is cemented for me further as my great-grandfather Amos Currier was a cousin to the famed lithographer Nathaniel Currier. I know that the scenes were often inspired by true events and the culture of rural New England that my ancestors experienced.
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"The Road, Winter", N. Currier, 1853
Another ancestral cousin, poet John Greenleaf Whittier, put imagery to pen when he wrote Snow-Bound:  A Winter Idyl in 1866. The poem recounts his childhood memories of being secluded in their stormy haven, as his family gathered by the warmth of the fireside hearth to hear legends of old, including those of our shared ancestors. Snow-Bound was one of the most popular publications of its day, lending much to the nostalgia for which good folk longed.

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All day the gusty north-wind bore
The loosening drift its breath before;
Low circling round its southern zone,
Through dazzling snow-mist shone. . .

And, when the second morning shone,
We looked upon a world unknown,
On nothing we could call our own. . .
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Carla Olson Gade: My mother and grandfather on a sleigh ride in 1942.
 “There is something soft and tender in the fall of a single snow-flake,
but when it comes out crawling out in the morning and shoveling
away a big drift, it’s ornery, mean and disgusting.”
~
G.L. Adams, The Fowlerville Review, 1879

Each generation has its own recollections,  some more romantic than others. The romance is often a myth. Nostalgia at its  best. Choosing to hold on to the best memories. Or, looking to the past to redeem a treasure from the deep. Like snow angels and sledding instead of shoveling mountains of heavy wet snow, trudging through the blizzard with a pail of water and grain to feed our horse, recalling the concussion my brother got when the toboggan slammed straight into a tree. Despite the temporary hardships that are endured by so many during nature’s most alarming furies, I must confess that to spend an evening reading by the light of an oil lamp, a candle, or the soft glow of the fireplace, kindles my imagination like nothing else. And, thus, it was for me in my 16th year, during the famed northeast “Blizzard of 1978.”
 
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Hailed the "Storm of the Century," the February blizzard dumped over 27 inches of snow on the Boston area, my family residing directly in its path. The Commonwealth was immobilized and many, like our family were left without heat, electricity, and telephone. The snow drifts were so deep that we could see but 6 inches of antenna of our car which was at the bottom of our driveway. It felt as though we were trapped inside our house, but the sun shone and we ventured outdoors to dig out after the two day storm. I recall walking uptown on the snowy streets, absent of vehicles, dragging our sled so we could return with groceries; providing any stores were open in our small community. Our historic town with clapboard homes and steepled church was clad in white. So picturesque, surreal even, like a Currier and Ives scene. And so pleasant, as many typically reserved New England neighbors greeted one another along the way. And though many were trapped on the interstate by the snowy onslaught and cities shut down for a week, I cling to my own experiences. But I could never keep from wondering how a great snow would affect those who lived in earlier times. Though their lives were not reliant on electricity and such, tremendous snow still created significant hardship . . .  and perhaps other romantic notions.
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18th century woodblock print depicting The Great Snow of 1717.
I’ll leave you with a true tale of my 9th great-grandparents Abraham Adams & Abigail Peirce who endured “The Great Snow” of 18th century Massachusetts. 
 The year 1717 “is rendered memorable, by the unusual quantity of snow, which fell on the twentieth and twenty-fourth of February. In these two storms, the earth was covered with snow, from ten to fifteen feet, and, in some places, to twenty feet, deep. Many one-story houses were covered, and, in many places, paths were dug, from house to house, under the snow. Many visits were made, from place to place, by means of snow shoes, the wearers having first stepped out of their chamber windows, on these excursions. ‘Love,’ we know, ‘laughs at locksmiths,’ and, of course, will disregard a snow-drift. Tradition informs us, that a Mr. Abraham Adams, wishing to visit his ‘ladye love,’ Miss Abigail Peirce, mounted his snow shoes, took a three miles’ walk, for that purpose, and entered her residence as he left his own, namely, by the chamber window. He was the first person the family had seen from abroad, for more than a week. Cotton Mather has left in writing a particular account of ‘the great snow,’ and the many marvels and prodigies attending it.”

(From: A Sketch of the History of Newbury, Newburyport, and West Newbury, from 1635 to 1845 By Joshua Coffin, Joseph Bartlett, 1845)

“As mighty a snow, as perhaps has been known 
in the memory of man, is at this time lying on the ground.”
~ Cotton Mather, early American preacher and historian


Picture
Carla Olson Gade: My ancestor’s home in Newbury, MA (Spencer-Peirce-Little House, c. 1690 which was covered in snow up to the second floor in 1717. Photo courtesy: Karen Lynch. http://www.karenlynchphotos.com/
Have you ever been in a blizzard or other great snow?
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GIVEAWAY!
Leave a comment with a valid email address by midnight, Nov 11th
to be entered to win a copy of Carla's  giveaway,
Colonial Courtships
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Colonial Courtships:
Carving a Future by Carla Olson Gade
Barbour Publishing, October 2012
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Unexpected adventure catches the Ingersoll
brothers by surprise-and brings unexpected love into their lives. Nathaniel has his sights set on becoming a master figurehead carver, until he risks everything for a woman. Jonathan's merchant trade and his new love are in jeopardy from a brother's animosity. Micah expects to settle down to peace after a life of fighting on the frontier but finds a young woman hiding from an abductor. Alden is press-ganged into tending an ailing naval captain, then catches sight of the captain's fetching niece. Will the unexpected end in four courtships?

The  novella collection begins with Carving a Future, set in 1753. Ship figurehead carver Nathaniel Ingersoll has apprenticed for many years under his Uncle Phineas and hopes to become a master ship carver in his own right. Indentured servant Constance Starling arrives on the Connecticut coast too ill for anyone to accept. Has Nathaniel jeopardized the future he has worked hard to achieve for the welfare of a weakly servant?

Excerpt: http://carlagade.com/CarvingaFutureChapter%201.pdf

Carla is the author of the Heartsongs Presents novel, The Shadow Catcher's Daughter, as well as the novella “Carving a Future” in Colonial Courtships. Carla is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers. 
Connect with Carla at:
Carla's website
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
Goodreads
Colonial Quills group Blog
If you are interested in ancestry, Carla invites you to check out her Genealogy blog at http://familyhistory.wordpress.com.

Ruth Axtell: Graveyard Treasures

8/12/2012

 

This week we welcome Ruth Axtell to Author Memories.

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Ruth Axtell has loved stories set in the 19th century ever since she read Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre and other 19th century classics in junior and senior  school. Like many romance writers, Ruth decided to write her own in order to read the kind of story she liked best. Ruth has published 13 historical romances under the name Ruth Axtell Morren. 
Currently, Ruth lives on the downeast coast of Maine with her three children and two rescue cats. She enjoys the challenge of vegetable and flower gardening in a cool, foggy climate, long
walks along the Maine coast, reading, watching British period dramas like Downton Abbey, and doing historical research for her novels.
   


Graveyard Treasures
by Ruth Axtell

Names and family histories are interesting things. Here in New England, we have some pretty old gravestones in the local cemetery. It’s a shame to see many of the stones falling over after each winter. Many are covered in lichen, the inscriptions so worn they are hardly legible. 
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Neglected Headstones, New England, photo by Ruth Axtell
But it’s a great place to find historical names when one is writing about the area in the 1800s. For one of my first published books, Wild Rose, I found my heroine’s name, Geneva, off one of these gravestones. I pretended it was short for Genevieve. 
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Geneva, photo by Ruth Axtell
This past spring, my father died at the ripe old age of 100. My brother and I had not been to the family plot in Connecticut since we were teenagers, so we hardly even knew where it was. But when we went there for the funeral, I was fascinated to read the names of my father’s forefathers on his mother’s side: Hopsons, Cornwalls and Hubbells—all solid English names.
 
On my next trip I visited another family plot where my grandfather’s side of the family is buried. These were Pattersons (a surname I used in Wild Rose, making my heroine Geneva
Patterson).
 
Here in this part of Maine, there are some names that hark back to the founding of this village back in the 1700s: Cates, Maker, Ackley, Corbett are some of the surnames that appear on many gravestones. 
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Obed Cates, photo by Ruth Axtell
Many times a man had both his wives listed, so you could tell he’d been widowed. Others had a few lines of verse denoting their sadness in their departed loved ones but hopes for an eventual reunion in Heaven and rest from their earthly toils.
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Headstone Verses, photo by Ruth Axtell
Asleep in Jesus!  Blessed sleep, 
From which none ever wake to weep! 
A calm and undisturbed repose, 
Unbroken by the last of foes.
Many of the tombstones not only listed the age of the departed one in years, but in years, months and days! I was amazed to see two who had died in the 1830s who’d lived to 90 and another to 86. There must have been something in the water! More common were deaths in people’s twenties, thirties, or sixties (in the mid-1800s). Some were children’s gravestones.
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90 years, 7 months, 21 days. Photo by Ruth Axtell
It’s fascinating to think about these many lives before us. People who walked these same roads (rutted horse tracks back then, I’m sure) or sailed the seas I see out my kitchen window. They must have been quite hardy and long suffering.
 
What are some of the thoughts old cemeteries and gravestone inscriptions invoke for you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GIVEAWAY!
Leave a comment with a valid email address by midnight, Aug 19th
to be entered in a draw for a copy of  
 
Ruth Axtell's new Historical Romance,
Her Good Name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Her Good Name
Moody River North, Aug 2012

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1890 - Maine 
In the 1890 thriving coastal town of Holliston, Maine, the leading lumber baron's son, Warren Brentwood, III, returns from his years away at college and traveling to take up his position as heir apparent to his father's business empire. 
 
Esperanza Estrada is the daughter of a Portuguese
immigrant fisherman who has grown up surrounded by a brood of brothers and sisters and a careworn mother. Unable to pretend she is anything but "one of those Estradas," Espy has no chance with Warren, no matter how striking she is. When she overhears of a position to clean house at a local professor's home on Elm Street, she jumps at the opportunity, hoping to be able to run into Warren Brentwood now and again as well as to imbibe the cultural and intellectual atmosphere of the Stocktons.

When rumors about Espy and this respected, married gentleman of the community begin to circulate, the entire church congregation and then the community pronounce judgment on her behavior. The man Espy is in love with, Warren, believes the lie and his loss of faith in her  causes Espy to give up without a fight. She leaves her family and hometown for the nearest city with little money and no acquaintances and is forced to spend the night on the street. A man who heads a mission for the homeless finds Espy and offers her shelter. Espy finds the true love of God while working at the mission. Will she be able to forgive the townspeople and return home?

Sample Excerpt

More about Ruth:
It was a long road to publishing, a journey as much spiritual as dependent on learning the craft of writing. Ruth studied comparative literature at Smith College with a concentration in French and English literature, and spent her junior year in Paris. After college, she spent a year in the Canary Islands as an au pair. Shortly after coming back to the U.S., she committed her life to Christ. Fourteen years later, she committed her writing to Him. Since then she has lived in the Netherlands and on the coast of Maine.

She was a Golden Heart finalist in 1994. Her second published book, Wild Rose, was a  Booklist “Top Ten Christian Fiction” selection in 2005. Her books have been translated into Dutch, Italian, Polish, Czech and Afrikaans. She is a member of ACFW (American Christian Fiction Writers), RWA (Romance Writers of America) and its local Maine chapter. 

Her Good Name, a historical romance set on the 1890s Maine coast, from River North/Moody Publishers will be her first book under Ruth Axtell. In March 2013, Moonlight Masquerade, a regency romance set in London, will be out with Baker/Revell Books.

You can find Ruth online at:

http://christianregency.com/blog/

https://www.facebook.com/ruth.axtell1
http://ruthaxtell.blogspot.com/

Cara Lynn James: Love By The Book & Giveaway

12/4/2011

 

This week we welcome Cara Lynn James to Author Memories.

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Cara Lynn James spent eight years in the U.S. Navy as an Administration and Personnel officer. During that time she lived in Rhode Island, Texas, California
and Virginia. Later she and her husband moved to Vermont where they raised
their two children. She homeschooled her daughter, worked as a teacher's aide and owned and managed a bookstore.

Cara now lives in northwest Florida with her husband, two grown children, a grandson and a precocious papillonin where she writes full time.

A New England Christmas
by Cara Lynn James

With Christmas only a few weeks away I’ve started getting into the spirit, although a snowless, Florida holiday doesn’t inspire me as much as Christmas in New England. But it does force me to remember that the birth of Jesus is truly the reason we celebrate, not fluffy white flakes blanketing the cold ground, or hot chocolate or eggnog, or logs burning in the fireplace.

I grew up in a suburban Connecticut neighborhood with small, Cape Cod houses built close together on well manicured postage stamp lawns. During the winter we sledded down hills at the local park and ice skated on a bumpy pond while we fought for space among the wild hockey players.
Picture
Typical New England scenery

On Christmas Eve my relatives came for dinner, we usually went to church and then we opened all our presents. Christmas Day we visited friends who lived across the road. It was lots of fun even though by the teenage years Christmas had lost some of its luster. The spiritual significance remained, of course, so it always had deep meaning. But my relatives moved away, and things changed.

Then just as I started my freshman year in high school, my aunt and uncle and three cousins moved from Illinois to Massachusetts, less than a two hour drive away. The kids were only a few years younger than me so I looked forward to spending Christmas with them on the farm they rented. Coming from Chicago my uncle wanted something different from the big city. My aunt—not so much! He found a one hundred year old farmhouse crowning a steep hill with acres and acres of rolling meadows bordered by a stone fence.
Picture
Cara (2nd from the back) and her cousins.

It snowed that year and we had a picture perfect Christmas. We tobogganed, had snowball fights, wrapped gifts together and listened to my uncle call “Ho! Ho! Ho!” for the benefit of his little son who of course recognized his voice. We hardly knew it was freezing cold outside. There were twelve of us staying at the farm for the holidays in a seven bedroom house with only one or two bathrooms!
Picture
Cindy, Cheryl, Jon and 14 yr old Cara.

After a few years my aunt and uncle bought a lovely colonial home in the country and we continued to spend snowy Christmases with them. But then during my junior year of college, my aunt hurt her back and my parents decided we should stay at home. Just the three of us. How boring. I was beyond disappointed, but I tried to make the best of it. Still, it was much more fun being together with my cousins enjoying a family holiday.

My dull Christmas changed within a few seconds. When my father bent down to take the turkey out of the oven for Christmas dinner, he suddenly gasped, put the golden brown bird on the stove and clutched his heart. My mother immediately called the doctor who told her to rush him to the hospital. I drove and we arrived in about ten minutes and in time to save his life. After a massive heart attack followed by a stroke, my father slowly recovered. He remained in the hospital for three months, but eventually he returned to work and lived for another twenty years.

So that was the worst of Christmases and the best of Christmases. I still thank the Lord that He made sure we stayed in Connecticut for a quiet holiday where the hospital was close by and my mother could continue to go to work every day. It would’ve been hard on everyone if we had to stay in Massachusetts for those three months. More than any other Christmas, I saw the Lord’s hand in our lives. Looking back, I’m more thankful for that Christmas than any of the other ones that I enjoyed so much.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leave a comment with a valid email address by midnight, Dec 11th
to be entered to win a copy of Cara's latest release, 
Love by the Book.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Love by the Book, Thomas Nelson, available now

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Savor this sweeping love story set in a lavish seaside mansion in 1901 Rhode Island.

Melinda Hollister is a society lady, intent on finding a rich husband before her peers discover her quickly diminishing wealth. Nick Bryson is all business, focused on making a name for himself in his father’s steamship line. Despite the marriage of their siblings, they rarely gave each other a second glance—until a tragic accident results in Melinda and Nick being appointed as co-guardians of their three-year-old niece Nell.

In order to get better acquainted with Nell and one another, Melinda and Nick agree to spend the summer in their own private quarters of the Bryson family vacation home, Summerhill. As their love for Nell grows, so does their attraction to each other. And for the first time in their lives, they sense that God has a bigger plan in motion.

Yet old habits die hard – and Melinda and Nick each find it difficult to resist the pull of their former worlds.

When the unthinkable happens, they find themselves faced with seemingly impossible choices and a new understanding of God’s true love.


Ladies of Summerhill series:

Love on a Dime - Read Chapter One

Love on Assignment - Read Chapter One

Love by the Book - Read Chapter One


 coming Aug 2012 - A Path to Love

You can find out more about Cara and her books online line at:

www.caralynnjames.com/index.html

www.seekerville.blogspot.com/

www.seekerville.net/

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