But as usual, I digress. I did not intend to whine, especially after having two glorious week driving up the California coast and feasting in San Francisco. It was just such a sudden jerk back into reality.

But back to the topic of this blog. One of the real pleasures of this blog was to drive me back to my western library. I’m finding books I collected throughout the last thirty years. Most came from western museums. Some are histories, some are diaries, some are pamphlets. I am fascinated by all of them, and I lose so many hours of time reveling in them. I’m like a kid in my own toy store.

My latest find is a sixty-page soft-cover book titled “Women of the West,” by Rick Steber. It’s a collection of one page tales of women of the west. One of them is the story of Gladys Berkley who traveled to the Virginia Valley to teach school. “When she saw the lonely place that was to be her home, she cried.”

 

But the pay was a fortune: $125 a month, and she was determined to stick it out for a year.

Her duties were not limited to teaching twenty ranch children. She was also responsible for janitorial duties as well as helping the first and second graders saddle and bridle their horses. “I was a city girl. I had never saddled or bridled a horse in my life. I learned.”

She also had to start a fire daily and pump a bucket of water to be used by the students. The one room school was also the mail stop. Ranchers sent mail to school with their children, and the letters were placed on the widow ledge in the hall, and during the day, anyone riding past the school going to nearby towns would stop and pick up the mail.

But her first impression of the “lonely place” changed, and she married a local rancher while teaching generations of rancher’s sons and daughters.

Those few paragraphs have the power to fire the writer’s mind. What prompted her to set out on her own? Who did she marry, and how did the courtship go? Did they have children?

And before long a story begins to grow in my head.

People often ask where I get my ideas. They usually come from some tidbit in a newspaper or pamphlet or magazine.  A seed of an idea that sometimes takes years to germinate, but lies there somewhere, tickling on occasion before making it known that its time has come.

So where do you get your ideas?    Do youlet them ferment for years before bringing them to the page? 

All the names went into the cowboy hat.  The winner will be getting an autographed copy of The Journey Home!  Don’t we have the most talented and generous guests ever?  Why, yes.  yes we do.

 

Alrighty, the winner is….

Cherie J

Congratulations, Cherie!  Please send your address to Linda at: LindaFord@airenet.com.  She’ll send that book right out to you.

 

Thanks to all who joined us this weekend!  It’s going to be another great week in Wildflower Junction.  Hurry back!

A little about myself:

 

I am happily married to my first and only husband. We live on a small ranch near the beautiful Rocky Mountains of Alberta, Canada. I love where we live and I love my house though I am only too happy to pay someone else to clean it for me.

 

What drew me to writing?

I suppose I always showed a creative streak. All my life I have been stimulated by beauty, form and shape. As a kid I thought I’d like to paint or draw everything I saw but learned I couldn’t do that to my satisfaction so turned to finding words to create pictures. I made up stories for my baby doll and my paper dolls (doesn’t that date me?). And to put myself to sleep, I made up stories in my head. I thought everyone did that.

 

But writing wasn’t my big dream growing up. No. My dream was quite different. I wanted to run an orphanage with a dozen kids. That was the dream I pursued.  I got sideswiped by love, however, and got married. I thought it meant giving up my dream but I’m not one to let detours stop me. So we ended up raising a family of fourteen—4 homemade and 10 adopted so I guess I got my dream.

 

Many of the kids we adopted were older and came with unique challenges which made life… well, challenging. I recall a time when life was so challenging I could hardly bear it. About 6 kids were teenagers and acting out in weird and wonderful ways. Unless you’ve had the same kind of troubled kids you wouldn’t believe me if I told you some of the details. So I will spare you (and me) the specifics. At that time, a friend showed me an announcement some people wanting to start a writing group. I wasn’t much interested but said I would go to keep my friend company.

 

From the word go, I was hooked. We listened to a tape about how to organize ideas for a book. It all sounded so neat and orderly and predictable. I thought I could use neat, orderly and predictable in my life. So I went home and worked on a non-fiction idea. For a few years I wrote human-interest stories for the local newspaper. And I took courses. I’d always loved romances and slowly my interest grew in learning to write one.

 

Learning is the word to note. I knew nothing. My brain had been stolen by raising kids. (It happens to a lot of mothers I’ve heard). But I persevered. As the world’s slowest learner it took me some time to learn to write a decent story and I’m still learning. It’s a bit like raising kids—the more experience you have, the less you know.  I am published with Heartsong Presents and Love Inspired Historicals and I am happily creating more stories and living in my imagery world where life is a lot more controllable than the real world.

 

What inspires my writing most of all?

First—a signed contract and a deadline.

 

But I am still stimulated by environment. Visiting a beautiful garden, seeing a sunset, sitting under a leafy tree, browsing a fabric/yarn store…so many things fire up my imagination. I purposely seek out ways to ‘fill the creative well.’ Research also stimulates ideas. I recently visited a small museum and saw so many pioneer items and photos. Immediately I am in another world thinking how it would be.

 

Speaking of research…

I have done a few research trips and I love that. Having a purpose when I visit a museum or an historical site makes it so much more interesting. People are so helpful and usually give me personal attention. On a trip to the Dakotas I stopped at a small (tiny) town and found the museum. I told the woman behind the desk what I sought and she dug out all sorts of documents and photocopied them for me. Priceless information. When I travel, I take detailed notes—everything from how the place smells to what sort of flora and fauna to the color of the soil. And of course pictures. When I get home I immediately put it all together in a binder. The printed information such as travel brochures, photocopies, etc go into 3-ring plastic sleeves and I mount the pictures and note as much detail as I can. This becomes a wonderful research resource. Now if I were really ambitious I would take my notes from reading and the internet and put them in the same binder but so far I haven’t bothered.

 

When I’m not working… I’m working—LOL–on something else. I have a live in client (paraplegic with both legs amputated) and he requires attention. We grow a huge vegetable garden so my summer is busy with planting, weeding, picking and freezing.

 

But I do have some favorite activities.  

 

Walking is high on the list. Walking down our country road is a great way to think through writing problems. But I also like to walk in town and admire the landscaping, etc. It might sound strange but walking down the back alleys gives me a more personal glimpse at the people who live there and always stimulates ideas for me. Now don’t think I lurk down the alleys like some kind of peeping tom. In fact, my favorite walks in town are some of the lovely walking paths. There, how harmless is that?

 

I always journal and in the slower winter months I sometimes take my journaling to a new level. Just looking through one of those journals trying to pick an illustration to share with you makes me want to sit down with scissors and colored pens and do a page. Just for fun.

 

I also love to travel. My home responsibilities don’t allow me to be away for very long but you can pack a lot into a 6-day holiday. One of my favorites was a trip to Paris. There’s something about that city that speaks to my soul. I was hard pressed to go an hour without wanting to sit at an outside café and write. Here’s a picture of me in Paris enjoying the ambience. I’ve done my best to recreate a bit of Paris at home but it lacks something—setting perhaps?

 

Besides all that, one of my favorite activities is family dinners. I love to have as many of the family as can come gather round our tables. We use two or three folding banquet tables and set them up down the center of the living room so we can seat 20 or more at a time. It is a great deal of fun. And a lot of work but it’s worth it.

 

My writing day.

I try and spend my morning hours at the computer. I have converted a tiny bedroom into my office. If need be, I can close and lock the door. I don’t usually have to. I have an open-door policy because of the other demands on my time. On the whole, those who share my house and my life respect my writing time but when they need me or have a question, I am here. I have learned to work around interruptions, as I must answer the phone re farm business, re my client’s medical needs, etc. If I’m really on a roll with my writing or have an impending deadline, I might put in a few more hours in the afternoon but very seldom in the evening. About six p.m. give or take an hour, my brain turns to mush. I unwind by watching TV, reading or going for a walk.

 

The one thing I would change is the window in my office. It is too high to see out as I sit at my computer and being so affected by what I see, this makes me feel coped up. So after twelve years of wishing I could see out the window this year I am putting in a big one that will come down to the top of my desk. I hoped it would be in by now but no one let me know that they were waiting for my final okay to order it and then it missed the truck and then the glass got broken when they unloaded it and now the contractor who was going to install it is gone out of town. Sigh. But soon I’ll have it. I’m sure of it.  When it’s finally in place I’ll be announcing it and showing a picture on my blog—connected to my website.

 

Someone recently talked about how they celebrate finishing a book. For me, if it’s completed by sending a manuscript in the mail (or courier) I usually go to a favorite coffee shop and order a large latte. Otherwise, I celebrate by catching up on my housework. LOL. Or even worse, the farm books. At least it makes me VERY eager to get back at my writing.

 

I am currently working on a series of books set in the Dakotas in the late 1800s. Each of these stories has a child that needs special attention because they are in physical or emotional danger. (As I write this I realize it sounds very autobiographical.) I have no publication date for these stories yet. Again, announcements will be made on my blog or website.

 

My next release is The Journey Home in August–#2 in a 3 book series set in the Depression era. These were great stories to write as the life challenges of that era were so profound—economic disaster, drought, unemployment. And yet people faced them with pride and perseverance. It makes for some very strong characters in fiction. I suppose I’ve combined a number of things in The Journey Home that are autobiographical. The hero is part native (as are some of our adopted children). He’s been raised by white parents and doesn’t know where he fits because of his mixed heritage. There is also a secret child. And unfulfilled dreams. Plus the constraints of a society that dictated a woman’s acceptable role.

 

Linda is giving away an autographed copy of THE JOURNEY HOME to one reader who comments today!

 ORDER A BOOK FROM AMAZON

The lovely and talented Linda Ford will arrive right here at Wildflower Junction bright and early tomorrow. She’s a delightful guest. She’ll be amazing us with what it’s like to raise fourteen younguns on a ranch in Alberta, Canada. Ah can’t imagine how much energy and determination that takes. Lord have mercy!

Miss Linda will also talk about her new book, “The Journey Home.” It’s a story set in the Great Depression and I’m looking forward to hearing more about this.

Hitch up your buggy and join us. The Fillies are sure to give Miss Linda a rousing welcome.

 

True Love

In the Wedding Crashers, Owen Wilson came up with a bit of brilliance. Rachel McAdams asked him what is the meaning of true love?

 “True love Is your soul’s recognition of its counterpoint in another.”

 Sounds profound, doesn’t it?  Then, in the movie, Owen admits he’d seen that on a bumper sticker.

When I Googled True Love, I came up with over 4 million responses. Not surprising. Love is what makes the world go around.  Love is the most universal emotion.  This is what I tell people who don’t ‘get’ romance novels.

So what, I ponder, is true love? 

 In Brief:

For me, it’s to love someone more than you love yourself.  It’s sacrifice and compromise, and turning the other cheek when necessary.  Some love is unconditional.  But I associate that more with the love a parent has for a child or grandchild.

True love between a man and a woman can be simple in nature.  It’s less profound and more practical. 

True love means always having to say you’re sorry!  (Sorry- Ryan O’Neal got it wrong)  

True love means you go see, The Dark Knight because you know he’ll enjoy it, when you’re really dying to see Momma Mia. 

True love means a kiss good-bye in the morning and kiss hello when he comes home. And for me, it’s the “good dinner” kiss I get after I make a meal- burnt, late, tasteless or not.

True love means loving him wildly even though he’s never read one of your books all the way through.

To be fair, true love means dragging him to every single historical museum while vacationing, without one complaint on his part. 

 In Biblical terms:

 Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things; believes all things; hopes all things; endures all things.

 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning:

(one of my favorites)

 How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, -I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death

 Famous Love Quotes:

 

Albert Einstein

 Jean Anouilh
Love is, above all else, the gift of oneself.
 
Ralph Waldo Emerson
All mankind loves a lover. 

 

Top Ten Movies about Love and Romance:

 

 

 

Pretty Woman  (1990)

When Harry Met Sally (1989)

Four Weddings and A Funeral (1994)

Strictly Ballroom (1992)

Sleepless in Seattle (1993)

Working Girl (1988)

Titanic (1997)

A Room With a View (1986)

Sliding Doors (1998)

Life is Beautiful (1998)

 

We write about it and we read about it, so what do you find is the meaning of true love?  How many of those movies do you agree with?  I’m sure you have others to add.  

 

Click on Five-Star Cowboy to begin Suite Reading!

It’s deadline time for me—and maybe for some of you, too.  My eyes are red and baggy.  My house is a maze of neglect.  My yard looks like a habitat for Sasquatch, and my grandchildren no longer recognize my voice (Ok, so I’m exaggerating a little).  But I’ll survive.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my 30-year writing career its that the only thing worse than having a deadline is NOT having a deadline.I’ve learned a few other things, too.  Let me share them with you.

I started my first novel in the late 1970’s when my youngest started school.  It was a time of big, epic books, and I already knew what I wanted to write.  For years I’d been fascinated with the Spanish conquest of Mexico, and especially with the woman known as Malinche, who served as interpreter to Hernan Cortes.  I wanted to tell her story.  The research took me a year, the writing another 18 months.  A year later, to make a long story short, I sold MISTRESS OF THE MORNING STAR for more money than I’ve received for any book since.

 It gets better.  The same publisher bought my second book and signed me to write a series of family saga books about an English family in 1800s China.

 

 

I thought I had it made.

My first China book came out as a lead title.  By the time I finished the second, the market for epics had died and hot romance was in.  I was 100 pages into the third book when I got the news that my contract was cancelled and the publisher was closing up shop.

In the next two years the only thing I wrote was a ghost (literally) job for a writer who’d died in the middle of a male historical action adventure series.  I split the small advance for the remaining books with the man’s sweet widow.  The books were pretty raunchy for their time, but he was an excellent writer.  I had to imitate his style, and I learned a lot.  However, my writing career was at such a low ebb that I took a full time job, which turned out to be a good move—but that’s another story.

The week I started my job, my agent sold two proposals to a new publisher.  The first, an epic I’d started years earlier, barely made a splash.  But they loved, the second book—my very first western!  They loved it so much they asked me to write under a pseudonym so they could promote me as a new author.  They were grooming me to be one of their stars.

I thought I had it made.

The month CAPTURE THE WIND came out as a lead book, my publishers lost their financial backing and went into bankruptcy.  That book was everywhere.  But I didn’t even receive the last installment of the advance. 

For the next four years I sold nothing.  Those years, which I call my dark years, were filled with family tragedies and other difficulties as well.  I wrote proposal after proposal.  Nothing worked.  Until…my agent sold a western proposal to a brand new line, Harlequin Historicals.  I had found a home, and I’m still there.

Do I think I have it made?  Not on your life!   I’ve learned not to take anything for granted.  I’ve learned to roll with the punches and change with changing times.  Most of all I’ve learned to be happy and grateful writing stories I love and sharing them with my readers.

How about you?  How do you deal with setbacks?  Have you ever had to reinvent yourself?  What advice would you offer a young person? 

To order one of the books below, click on the cover. 

                                               

    

Hello darlings! Saturdays always bring us some wonderful guests and this week’s is no exception.

Linda Ford comes to us all the way from Alberta, Canada.

Linda will be sharing her love of writing and give us some insight on how she manages to fit her storytelling in while raisin’ fourteen younguns. That’s right. Fourteen. She always dreamed of running an orphanage so she’s gettin’ lots of practice. And she’s as happy as a dog with two tails.

Come on by Saturday and ask her all the questions you want.  We’ll have a good time. We always do.

And took some pictures.
I just love the way buffalo look and I’ve driven by them a zillion times and stare like crazy because I find them fascinating. But I never pull over and just take a real look.

 

 

 

I’m especially interested in them because I’ve got a book coming out in October called Buffalo Gal. In fact it might be the other way around. I think my fascination with those buffalo is what inspired the book. I just think they’re the coolest, weirdest creatures. The longer you look at them the stranger they look. The way their heads are so huge and their back ends are so slender, completely at odds with their heads.

 

It’s like God was just having a good old time when he created them.

Anyway, today I did it. Pulled over. This herd is just outside Winnebago, Nebraska on the Winnebago Indian Reservation.

Look how close this guy is to the fence. I could have gotten really close to them. Instead I just used the zoom lens.

This fence looked pretty sturdy and there’s an inner electric fence,

you can kind of make out the two thin strands of it.

I’m sure the whole time the buffalo was smashing through it he’d be going,

“Ouch, ouch, yowee, yikes, that smarts.”

Then he’d be through and CHARGE!

I just kept flashing on a headline in the Omaha World Herald.

Woman gored to death by buffalo
Mary Connealy, while photographing a buffalo walked right up to it and it killed her. Duh! ***
***

 

 

 

 

EVERY PERSON who read that story would think….
“Good riddence, get someone that stupid out of the gene pool.”

 

 

 

I WOULD THINK THAT, TOO! I ADMIT IT!!!

They might hunt down everyone related to me, too, just to strengthen the species.

 ***(Disclaimer…the above headline is fake. I am alive. The World Herald has never…to my knowledge mocked a person killed regardless of the stupidity of the actions of said dead person)

Click on a title to buy my books

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Howdy!  This just in.  Just received the new blurb for my next book, BLACK EAGLE, from my publisher.  The book, which is due out in May of 2009, is in production with my publisher.  So since this is just in, I  thought I might take a break this week from the survivalists lessons to do some unashamed promotion.  Please bear with me.  So without further ado, here’s a little of what’s going on in my writing life.  First I thought we’d take a look at the book that I have out on the stands right now, THE LAST WARRIOR  — and then have a look at the blurb for the book due out next year, BLACK EAGLE.

Many centuries ago, a village killed the children of the Thunder God.  For their crime, the Creature bannished them to live a half existence in the land of mists, neither dead nor alive.”

In 1892, that warrior is Black Lion

There was only one way for Black Lion to melt the Thunder God’s anger; listen for a sacred white-man’s song — and sing it perfectly with the one who introduced him to it. He joins Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show and travels to London, where he encounters the daughter of two opera singers — the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. However, Suzette Joselyn is already engaged to another man…

But the two are destined to meet again when Suzette shows up in America, pregnant and abandoned by her fiance. Reunited with Black Lion she finds it impossible to turn down his offer of marriage to save her child from life as a bastard. But she doesn’t realize that her brave new husband is consumed with a mission that may force him to choose between his people and the woman he loves…

Praise for Karen Kay’s books:

“Enchanting…will capture your attention quickly and never let go!” — Huntress Reviews

“A tour de force Native American romance.” — Romantic Times

“Mesmerizing…(Karen Kay’s stories) sooth the soul, mend the heart, make us sing. Savor every word.” — The Old Book Barn Gazette

“You won’t forget this book, and you won’t forget this love.” — Ivy Quill Reviews

“Karen Kay has a beautiful way of thrusting the world wide open to your senses.” — The Literary Times

“Karen Kay goes ‘beyond the typical Indian romance.’ It’s depth is immensely gratifying.” — Romance Times

“Her words so deeply touch the heart…Unbelieveably beautiful.” — Fresh Fiction

And now here’s the blurb for the next book:

Black Eagle

A Warriors of the Iroquois Novel

 

Karen Kay

Author of The Last Warrior

 

“Karen Kay’s passion for Native American lore shines through.”—Publishers Weekly

 

 

After Marisa Rathburn overhears her uncle’s plot to destroy a Dutch town for his own gain, she threatens to expose him—forcing her to run for her life. Braving the war outside rather than the more dangerous one at home, she accepts an invitation north to visit a friend.

 

Mesmerized by her beauty, a Mohawk warrior named Black Eagle volunteers to act as her eyes through the wild forests of New England—only he soon senses an unexpected danger, and that Marisa may not be all that she appears.

 

Caught in the crossfire of war, and with a deadly assassin hot on their trails, Marisa and Black Eagle discover that trusting each other is the only way to outrun the enemy—and that love may be the only way to survive.

 

Praise for the novels of Karen Kay

 

“Captures the heart and soul of the American Indian.”—The Best Reviews

“A beautiful way of thrusting the world wide open to your senses.”—The Literary TimesPraise for THE LAST WARRIOR

 

“Kay creates an ideal finish to her fascinating series!”—Romantic Times

 

“The Last Warrior is a not to be missed story in the tales of the tribes living in the land of the mists. Karen Kay has penned another winner.”—Cata Romance

 

“Karen Kay has gifted us with a beautiful conclusion to an enchanting series. Every Karen Kay novel leaves me wanting more and The Last Warrior is no exception. Take this journey of the heart. You’ll be glad you did.”—Fresh Fiction

 

 

Praise for RED HAWK’S WOMAN

 

“I would love to be Red Hawk’s Woman…This is a great rainy weather book. Grab a cup of chocolate and cuddle up.”—Fallen Angel Reviews

 

“[Karen Kay] hooks readers with a paranormal element but also delivers a solid Native American romance that’s everything fans of the genre want.”—Romantic Times (4 Stars)

 

“Karen Kay has created a gripping story that reaches through time…Red Hawk’s Woman is Native American writing that will leave you wanting more.”—Cata Romance

 

“Red Hawk’s Woman is a tenderly told tale of adventure, of honor, of forgiveness. It’s also a story of love, survival, and peace. This heartfelt story is the latest gift from Karen Kay, who never disappoints her readers. It’s a treasure not to be missed.”—The Best Reviews

 

   

Praise for THE SPIRIT OF THE WOLF

 

“Kay blends legend and fact into a beautiful love story. Delving into Native American customs and mores with sensitivity, compassion and a true understanding of the people, she enhances a magical, passionate plot with historical detail and just a touch of magic.”—Romantic Times (4 Stars)

 

More praise for Karen Kay

 

 “An exciting historical romance.”—Midwest Book Review

 

“Kay blends legend and fact into a beautiful love story…She enhances a magical, passionate plot with historical detail and just a touch of magic.”—Romantic Times

 

“Enchanting…will capture your attention quickly and never let go!”—Huntress Reviews

 

 “Karen Kay writes with such strong passion that it hooks her readers.”—BookBrowser

 

“Her words so deeply touch the heart…Unbelievably beautiful.”—Fresh Fiction

 

“You won’t forget this book, and you won’t forget this love.”—Ivy Quill Reviews

 

“A treasure not to be missed.”—The Best Reviews

Don’t forget that I’ll be  blogging  two weeks from now —  Tuesday, as well, when I hope to continue Native American Survival Lessons.  And lest we forget, contrary to popular TV shows, Native American Survival is a group activity.  None survives alone.  Even the lowest life forms depend on other life for their existence.  To make it seem different is to make it all the more difficult for you to survive, and to survive well and flourish.  Well, that’s it for now.  Thank you for bearing with me.

I’d love to hear what you think of the new back blurb for BLACK EAGLE.  I didn’t write it, but I think it’s good.  What do you think?

So come on in and let’s chat, about this or other things, as well. 

Just like Mary Poppins’ magic carpetbag, medical bags of the 1800s carried surprising things. The medical profession was more advanced than we may think. Did you know, for instance, there was more than one bag a doctor might have carried to a house call?

Depending on the type of call, a doctor would have grabbed his or her general medical bag, an obstetrical bag or a surgical kit. Here’s a photo of an antique surgical kit that contains scalpels, tweezers, razors, scissors. They would have carried suturing material and gauze bandaging as well. 

 

Throughout history, different cultures from around the world have used various materials for sutures. Human hair, cotton, flax, silk and catgut, for example. Catgut was the most common in North America. It didn’t come from cats but the intestines of sheep, cows or horses. Surgeons discovered catgut was much stronger than plant fiber, so wouldn’t disintegrate in the body and the wound would not open up unexpectedly. 

In earlier times, doctors sometimes used hair from a horse’s tail. My heroine does this for an emergency in THE DOCTOR’S HOMECOMING. In another one of my books, THE COMMANDER, the surgeon uses violin strings (historically made from catgut) when all supplies run dry on the battlefield. When he returns home, he cherishes that violin for many heart wrenching reasons.

If you sew, you may recognize some of these suturing patterns: the interrupted stitch, figure 8, and running stitch. My medical graduate in 1880 Montana practices her stitching techniques on deerskin.

Bullet probes and extractors were a very big deal. They looked like bent tongs or forceps. They came in various lengths to extract a bullet, depending where it was located in the body.

Other items in the bag included:  stethoscope, glass thermometer (3 inch mercury ones started around 1867; up until then they were longer at 6 inches, sometimes 12), splints for broken bones (versus casts we use today), large knives and saws (ours are often powered by electricity—yuck!), vaginal specula, forceps for labor and delivery, and bloodletting instruments. Blood pressure instruments started to develop in the 1880s but were inaccurate. But by 1910, most American physicians had a portable one that was accurate, as they realized the importance of a blood pressure reading.

Surgeons would have various painkillers at their disposal. (see my previous article—Painkillers of the 1800s – under Categories — Medicine – in the sidebar.)

What about anesthesia? Nitrous oxide (called Laughing Gas because it made patients laugh) was first used as a dental anesthetic in 1844. Ether was used for general anesthesia starting in 1846, and chloroform in 1847. Chloroform anesthesia became very popular after it was administered to Queen Victoria in 1853 for childbirth.  

Today, surgeons specialize. To name a few – ENT (ear, nose, throat), cardiothoracic (heart and lungs), orthopaedic (bones) and pediatric.

Historically, when did the medical profession start to specialize? Here are a few dates, but keep in mind surgeons were becoming experts on an individual basis before the associations were formed. So if you’re a writer, you don’t have to limit yourself to these dates. Your surgeon might be known in the territory for being an expert in bone surgery. What he or she carries in her surgical bag might be based on this.

American Medical Association, founded 1847, Philadelphia.

American Surgical Association, founded 1880.

American Orthopaedic Association, founded in 1887, the first in the world.

The Western Ophthalmological, Otological, Laryngological and Rhinological Association (eyes, ears, throat and nose) was founded in 1896 (dubbed the WOOL society.) It’s now the American Academy of Ophthalmology.

Most medical associations began on the eastern seaboard due to population patterns. However, doctors in the West may have become members. They may have received a quarterly newsletter, or a monthly subscription to a medical journal. Newsletters would announce new methods of surgery, recent research, upcoming guest lecturers, or visiting doctors from England, where they had a close bond.

Picture a surgeon stranded on a Montana mountaintop, devouring every page of a one-year-old medical journal, desperate for news. Or bartering his saddle for one. In THE DOCTOR’S HOMECOMING, my hero barters away the heroine’s medical bag, much to her fury, to save their lives.

Maybe the surgeon in your novel is reading one of these major publications: Journal of the American Medical Association,  founded 1883. (Today it’s the world-renowned JAMA.)

Or the British Medical Journal, started in 1840, then called The Provincial Medical and Surgical Journal.  Today it’s the world-renowned BMJ.)

One of the many reference sources for this article was ANTIQUE MEDICAL INSTRUMENTS by C. Keith Wilbur. Others can be found on my website www.katebridges.com.

Back to Mary Poppins and her magic carpetbag. What is your handbag like? Are you a one-purse woman or do you have several, and switch back and forth? Is yours so big it gives you a backache? In a pinch, would you be able to pack clothes for an overnight getaway in your purse? Or do you, like me, prefer them as small as possible?

Do you carry anything unusual in your purse?

I’m not crazy about handbags, but I love briefcases. I’ve got them for all occasions—huge ones to haul books for booksignings, slender ones for carrying notes to a workshop, pretty ones that can double as a purse.

www.katebridges.com

 

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