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Dina Sleiman: 19th Century Family Treasures & Giveaway

1/22/2012

 

This week we welcome Dina Sleiman to Author Memories.

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Dina Sleiman writes lyrical stories that dance with light. Most of the time you will find this Virginia Beach resident reading, biking, dancing, or hanging out with her husband and three children, preferably at the oceanfront. 
Since finishing her Professional Writing MA in 1994, she has enjoyed many opportunities to teach literature, writing, and the arts. Dina is represented by Tamela Hancock Murray of
The Steve Laube Agency. She has recently become an acquisitions editor for WhiteFire as well. Join her as she discovers the unforced rhythms of grace.

19th Century Family Treasures
by Dina Sleiman

My great grandfather, affectionately known to us as Great Pop pop, was also a great story teller. He would regale us with tales of life at the turn of the century. With stories of our eclectic relatives. Everything from Native Americans, to inventors, to a real life signer of the Declaration of Independence. Having a bit of the story telling bug myself, I always wanted to get his tales down on paper.

I have such fond memories of this old man. Toward the end of his life I started cleaning his house. He would pay twelve-year-old me an exorbitant amount to dust and vacuum. Of course at twelve, such things are actually fun. And his treasure trove of a house made it even more fun. The lovely antiques I dusted with care. The ingenious mechanical stairway leading to the attic that he'd invented himself. But perhaps most precious were those moments when, through a glimpse in the mirror, I'd catch him watching me clean. The beatific grin on his face as he leaned back in his recliner with his hands crossed over his ample belly was priceless. Then afterward he would take me out to eat, which, if you've ever driven with a man in his eighties, you will understand was quite a harrowing and exciting adventure in and of itself.

We never got Great Pop Pop's stories down on paper. But when he passed away unexpectedly, we were left with the treasures at his house. I inherited an antique bedroom set which legend claimed belonged to a Pennsylvania governor, and I still use pieces from it today. My mom claimed an old chest filled with even more treasures. A 19th century family album and an authentic Victorian gown. These treasures told stories of their own, and I'd like to share some of them with you.

Here's a great one to start with. I'm guessing Civil War era. Union soldier. Love the sword. Not sure how many generations back that would be. Maybe six. Likely his name was John Scutter Dickey, as there were several of them around that time.
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And I suppose these ladies in their hoop skirts must be from about the same period. Sisters of the soldier? Look at how incredibly long their skirts are. I have to wonder if they were standing on something for the pictures. The first appears to be in mourning. Hopefully not for the soldier.
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Don't you think either of these ladies could make a lovely heroine for a novel. Oh, oh, for the sake of the story, maybe they're not his sisters.  Maybe the one in black is mourning the loss of her fiance in the war and in sweeps handsome hero above who managed to survive. What should this one's story be? Quite a refined lady, isn't she?
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What about this funny looking little guy? I wonder what he thinks of the outfit and the curls. Bet he just wants to go outside and play. Although, if I'm not mistaken, he looks rather resigned to the situation. Perhaps a small bribe on the part of his parents?
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In case your wondering if this is actually my family or if I'm making this all up, here's a picture from a little later in the album.
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And here's a picture of my brother, Jonah Dickey, in 1996. Yeah, I'm pretty sure this is my family.
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From towards the end of the album, this is my full-blooded Seneca great great grandmother with a baby on her lap who might well be my great grandfather. Of course it looks more like a girl, but I believe she had six or seven boys and only one girl. So odds are, it isn't a girl. And didn't they dress baby boys in fancy dresses back then? (See boy in curls above.) Note that this baby is sitting on a log. Not quite the upscale scene of the earlier photos.
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And now for the finale, here's a picture of me at age fifteen in that Victorian Era gown that we found. The wrap is actual horsehair. Note the lovely jeweled buttons, the velvet hat, and the authentic muff. Of course, I didn't have the bustle to properly fill out the back. Our best guess is that this belonged to the same great great grandmother in the picture. It was long, even for 5' 10" me.
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So I hope you enjoyed this little trip through our family treasures. I know my mom and I had a fun time preparing it for you.

Have you ever found any family treasures? What are some of your favorite keepsakes? What sort of stories do they spawn in your mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GIVEAWAY!
Leave a comment with a valid email address by midnight, January 29th
to be entered for a free ebook version of Dina's  debut release,
Dance of the Dandelion

Note: If the winner already has Dance of the Dandelion, 
they can use the promotion code for any WhiteFire novel.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dance of the Dandelion, WhiteFire Publishing, Oct 2011 

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Love's quest leads her the world over.

Dandelion Dering was born a peasant in the English village of Arun, but her soul yearned for another life, another world. One filled with color and music, with adventure and passion  . . . with more. Haunted by childhood memories, Dandelion determines to find a better existence than the life every peasant in the village contents themselves with. Even if her sweetheart William’s predictions prove true, and her journey leads straight to heartache.

From her sleepy hamlet to the intrigue of castle life, from the heart of London to the adventurous seas, Dandelion flees from the mistakes of her past, always seeking that something, that someone who will satisfy her longings. Will Dandelion ever find the rhythm to her life's dance . . . or did she leave her chance for true love at home in Arun village?

You can find Dina Sleiman online at the following sites:

www.dinasleiman.com
www.inkwellinspirations.com

Christine Lindsay: Violet Perfume

8/3/2011

12 Comments

 
This week we welcome Christine Lindsay to Author Memories.
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Christine Lindsay writes historical Christian inspirational novels with strong love stories. She doesn’t shy away from difficult subjects such as the themes in her debut novel SHADOWED IN SILK which was the Gold winner of the 2009 ACFW Genesis for Historical.

The Pacific coast of Canada, about 200 miles north of Seattle, is Christine’s home. It’s a special time in her life as she and her husband enjoy the empty nest, but also the noise and fun when the kids and grandkids come home. Like a lot of writers, her cat is her chief editor.

Violet Perfume
By Christine Lindsay

I was 12 years old and my grandparents had just come from Ireland to visit us in Canada. It had been 8 years since I last saw my grandmother, who I called Nanny, and my grandfather, Granda.

They opened up their huge, light blue suitcase and brought out all sorts of gifts for us from the family back home. Then Nanny gave me a small box, and inside was a gift that as soon as I opened it, took me back to those vague days of childhood when I was but 4.

I had been born in Ireland, but when I was 4 years old my mother and father, as well as my baby sister and I immigrated to Canada. Back in the sixties flights across the Atlantic were expensive, so it wasn’t too different for us than it was for those immigrants who’d come over in the steerage of ships. When we had said goodbye at the airport in Belfast, Northern Ireland, all of us thought we’d never see each other again.

But 8 years passed, and each day I thought of my grandparents who I missed terribly, especially Nanny. Letters were never enough.

One day when I was 11 years old I was at a friend’s house playing, and I phoned home. My mother said, “Hurry up, I have a big surprise waiting for you.”

I remember running down the street, wearing a cotton dress and white ankle socks with black Mary Jane shoes like girls did in those days. All the way home, puffing out of breath, all I could think of was, what . . . or who . . . my mother had waiting for me.  

One surprise that would thrill me would be if my grandparents were sitting in the living room when I got home. It had to be them. It just had to be. Had they come from Ireland to visit us at long last?

But when I got home my mother indeed had a surprise for me. I don’t remember what it was. Something nice, I’m sure. But it was not my grandparents. How foolish I felt. Of course they wouldn’t turn up just like that. A flight across the ocean cost a great deal.

The day did come though, the following year. And I was told about it months in advance. My grandparents did fly over.
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And there they were sitting in our living room in Canada and opening up their huge, light blue suitcase to shower us with gifts.

Nanny handed me the little box, and I opened the lid. It was a small bottle of perfume made for a child with the plastic figure of a tiny leprechaun for the lid.

I popped open the lid and brought it to my nose and sniffed.

I remembered!

I was only 4 when we’d left the emerald isle. So many things I couldn’t possibly remember, except the vague, shadowy images of my grandmother especially. But this violet scent was one I had smelled before.

It took me home to the land of my birth, to the family I missed, to those moments with my grandmother.

I was home.

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

Book Trailer for Christine's debut novel: Shadowed in Silk

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SHADOWED IN SILK, WhiteFire Publishing, 
Gold winner of the 2009 ACFW Genesis for Historical

Click here to read Chapter One  

In Print available -- September 1, 2011 

Available now as an Ebook, Click here on Amazon

Visit Christine at her website  www.christinelindsay.com 


12 Comments
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