It occurs to me that we are probably each and everyone of us in love with language. We read, we write, we struggle with that sentence, that paragraph, that scene. We listen to the words of others, we imitate their speech sounds and imitate dialects, we write them, we say them, we put poetry together so that it moves the spirit of us and our fellow man. The art of language. Candidates hope we’ll listen to their smooth talk and not bother to study their voting records too carefully. Propagandists bank on the fact that we’ll listen and not look — and many of us fall prey to this kind of deceit. Why? I think it’s call the art of language.
Gee, I sure do like this the looks of this man. Sigh. Okay, enough of that. In the mid-1800′s, Indian agents began the start of separating Indian children from their parents and taking them far away to the white man’s school. This was considered by the “do-gooders” (as they are sometimes affectionately referred to in Native America) as beneficial.
But was it?
Let’s have a closer look. Many of those children had never known the inside of 4 walls. They were used to the outdoors life, and they were isolated from their families as well (and to many of them, their families were who they were); they were forbidden to speak their language. They were taught skills that would not equip them to perform well back on the “rez” where they would eventually wind up. It was thought that they could be made over into the image of the white man — and that this would be beneficial for all concerned.
Many of those children committed suicide. Some simply faded away or became sick with the startling difference in food, culture, clothing and way of life. Some learned as well as they could, only to return to their reservations ill-equipped to meet the challenges that would face them there. None ever — not ever — forgot their true heritage. Never. And when times became more tolerant, these people quickly reverted to their roots, as best they could remember them.
One might think that simply forbidding a child to speak his native tongue, and forcing him to learn another language could hardly qualify as abuse. But stay with me here. Let’s look at this more closely.
In Native America, and perhaps in most other cultures, one’s morals and indeed ones idea of what is considered expected of him in the society in which he lives, is conveyed through one’s language. Let me give some examples here to make this a little more real. In Native America, there were no such things as curse words. The name of the Creator, and all concerning that aspect of life was considered so sacred that the very idea of taking the name in vein was entirely foreign. The way in which one addressed his brothers, sisters, his relatives, his uncles and aunts was all part of the language and gave these kinds of stable datums to children from the very beginning of their life. The making of clothes, the industry of the women, the differences between the sexes, the way in which one treated one’s mother-in-law or father-in-law, was all part of the language. If one were to strip one of his right to speak his own tongue, one would also, at the same time, strip one of the moral fiber of the community.
In many ways, taking away the language of the people was as harmful to the First Americans as was the fire-water (and other drugs) brought in by the traders. It pulled the rug out from underneath the child, replacing it with a different set of values that had little to stabilize them, since most of these children would be returning to their reservation and would not be staying in the white man’s world where the new morals would apply. Thus, a man would come back to the reservation unable to hunt and fish and make a living for his family. His family would starve. A woman would come back not able to cook over a fire or to make the kinds of clothes she was taught to sew in the white man’s school. Often she was taught to sew on a sewing machine, and there would be none of those on the reservation.
It was a hard time for those children — not only leaving their families, but also in returning to a world that seemed now foreign to them. Some couldn’t make the change. But what I find interesting is how the language was used to destroy a culture. Language. More examples: We can often “know” a person by the way they speak (or so we think). We listen to the slow drawl of a Texan and some of us sigh. We listen to the fast-paced jargon of a New Englander and our heads might spin just trying to keep up with all they’re saying. Or how about the Saturday Night Live version of a Samurai in the roll of a food server? Just the imitation of the speech patterns of the Samurai, combined with the outrageousness of a restaurant setting was enough to set me to laughing.
Language. It can make us laugh, it can make us cry, it can bring us to our knees. It can soothe, it can enlighten, it can raise our spirits with the beauty of its prose. It can also unfortunately be used by those of devious dispostions to hypotnize. And it can also convey and keep alive simply by its use and its structure, an entire culture.
So tell me what are your thoughts about all this? I do know that I have been told by more than one Native American elder of the importance of language — and how it alone might keep alive a culture. What do you think? Can language do all this? Can language take us to places we’ve never seen, soothe our spirits, become our friend? I know I’m talking to many writers here, so please come on in and let me know what you think.
And May your day be filled with love and happiness.
My new book cover is here!WANTED IN ALASKA is coming out in February 2009. I’m excited to tell you the story, and what inspired me to write it.
With all the media attention Alaska has been getting lately, I’m reminded how young the state is. The population growth never really got started until the late 1890s, during the Klondike gold rush. Little more than a hundred years ago.
Alaska has an exciting and colorful history. Around 1897, when the rest of America first heard that gold had been discovered in the Klondike, in nuggets as big as a man’s fist, everyone from schoolteachers to mayors to the worst criminals in history headed north for a piece of the action.
The most direct route to get to the rich Klondike River was by ship to the port of Skagway, Alaska. From there, people crossed the mountains by foot, then built rafts to take the rivers to the Klondike.
I took these photos on my research trip to Skagway. What a fascinating place! They’ve restored the buildings as they were during the gold rush, so I felt like I’d stepped through a time machine.
With roughly a hundred thousand people arriving in Alaska within the first two years of the gold rush, it took a while for the law to catch up.
Skagway was run by an organized crime leader who made life hell for folks on the trail. His name was Jefferson Randolph Smith, with a nickname of ‘Soapy.’
Soapy was a con artist from the lower States who fled to Alaska to make a fortune. He had his fingers in everything—his gangs targeted gold miners on the trails who’d struck it rich, stole precious supplies of food and clothing headed into the area, and he conned people right off the boats by declaring he’d set up a telegraph office in Skagway so they could wire their families at home to say they’d arrived safely. Well, in order for telegrams to be sent, there had to be wires strung between the two places, usually on posts that followed the railroads. Although several honest people tried to convince the others that the telegraph office was a hoax, many believed Soapy, and wired home. Can you imagine? They had a real building, using fake instruments where they tapped the fake messages and just pocketed the money. Playing devil’s advocate here, what a great con!
Soapy even had the local law enforcement, what little there was, on his payroll. He bribed them and they did as he asked. This is the spark of history that ignited my novel, WANTED IN ALASKA.
It’s the fictional story of an honest man who’s fighting to get the truth out, but he’s been set up by these organized criminals to take the blame for the violence and robbery on the trails. Quinn Rowlan’s face is plastered on every Wanted Poster from Skagway to the Klondike for stuff he didn’t do. In truth, he and his band of men have been saving lives.
When Quinn’s brother is wounded in one of their heroic fights, Quinn is desperate for medical help. There are no doctors around, so he recklessly kidnaps a nurse. First big mistake.
This would be the heroine, Autumn MacNeil. The book opens with Autumn and her friend at a masquerade ball in Skagway. They’ve come dressed up as each other. Autumn is a singer and her friend is the nurse. Quinn asks for a dance with Autumn, leads her to the balcony, then with the help of his men, snatches her from the party. He doesn’t realize until it’s too late that she’s not a nurse at all.
Besides being an outlaw, Quinn has an interesting profession, but I won’t spoil it by saying what he does. It’s another reason why he has to clear his name.
Of course, Autumn is outraged at what this madman has done, and has a few tricks of her own for survival. What neither of them counts on is how intense and meaningful every moment they spend together becomes.
Slowly, they lower their guard, and set off on a dangerous and exciting plan to set the world right. And their love story unfolds….
An excerpt just went up on my website, if you’d like to read it.www.katebridges.com
Have you ever visited Alaska? Have any of your ancestors been involved in gold mining, or silver or copper, in other parts of the country? So much of our history and our population growth was influenced by the location of precious metals.
Just like Soapy, don’t a lot of con artists still hang out at railroad stations and airport lobbies to lure unsuspecting tourists? I’ve encountered a couple in European railroad stations, and in New York City airports—men who claimed to be legitimate taxi drivers but weren’t. Have you ever come across any con artists in your travels?
Click on the cover to link to Amazon.
Published at November 9th, 2008 in category Drawing
Thanks everyone for coming to leave a comment on Jodi Thomas’s blog. She appreciates each one and apologizes that she was unable to respond to the comments. Jodi’s away from her computer at the moment doing appearances and promoting “Tall, Dark and Texan.” But she’s thrilled to give away a copy this weekend to one of our P&P fans.
The winner of the book is……..
Lori Barnes!
Lori, I’ll be contacting you for your mailing info so Jodi can get the book to you.
Have a nice Sunday evening and everyone tune in tomorrow to see what Kate Bridges is blogging about. It’ll be interesting.
This spring will mark my 27th book. Twenty-two of them have been national best sellers and six have hit the NY Times list. My newest historical, Tall, Dark and Texan (the third in my Whispering Mountain series,) just come out this month. And my next mainstream, Rewriting Monday, will release in April 09. I hope you look for them.
In interviews I’m often asked what one thing would I tell writers. Of course: Study your markets? Read everything? Learn your craft? Write everyday? All came up as possibilities but one secret I’ve learned kept whispering in the back of my mind. Maybe it’s not the most important tool a writer needs but it can be vital to your success.
Learn to Fall.
There will be times, thousands of them if you stay in the game as I have for 20 years, when this business doesn’t go your way. You have to learn to stop holding on to the safety strap and jump out into the unknown.
The first time I remember taking a tumble was before I sold. I was frantically writing, sending off to every contest, agent, or editor I could find. One day I opened the mailbox to discover three rejections. I felt like I’d faced a firing squad and all twelve bullets hit at heart level. I walked back to the house, sat down and started crying. My four-year-old son, Matt, came up to me, leaned on the arm of the chair and asked what was wrong. Through tears I told him about my total failure. He smiled and said simply, “Mom, like you say when I play t-ball, sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, and sometimes you get rained-out.”
I stopped crying and realized it wasn’t me. I was a good writer doing the best I could. I just kept getting rained-out by editors who didn’t read the slush pile and agents who already had full client lists.
From that day on I developed a plan for falling. Whenever I stumbled and fell flat on my face, I let go of the corpse I was trying to drag, celebrated and moved on with my career. There for a while quite a few bodies of old manuscripts lay around the house.
The plan for falling:
1. Burying the corpse. I know writers who wrote a book back in the 90′s and are determined not to go on to another until they sell their first one. They keep painting a new face on the body and shoving it into a new casket. Beginning writers probably don’t want to hear that you may write your first book, or even your second or third, for practice. We need to believe that first book will make millions or we’d never go through the work of learning to write. But sometimes you have to kiss the well-traveled manuscript good-bye and bury it under the bed.
2. Celebrating. I hope all beginning writers party at each success: a contest win or even an honorable mention. A letter asking for more or a book deal. All are worth a party. But, maybe more important is the party you have when you let go of one dream and open up to another. Celebrate when you send something off or when you enter a contest. That’s when you’re being brave. Find a writing friend or a group and push one another to try.
3. Moving on. If what you’re doing in this game isn’t getting you where you want to go, maybe you are on the wrong road. Take the tools and knowledge you have learned and start carving out a different work of art. You might surprise yourself, you might just find a place where you and your work belong. I knew a writer who tried to write romance for five years, turned to childrens writing on a bet and sold in five months and is still selling.
When I turned loose and thought of myself sky diving and not falling, my world began to change. Phil Price, an accomplished playwright, once said, “I’ve often wondered why sky divers yell for joy and people who fall off cliffs scream. After all, they’re both seeing the same view. It’s only the last foot that changes.” So, I decided, whether I’m falling or sky diving through life, I might as well decide to enjoy the view.
Mark Twain said once that compared to writing, horseracing is a stable occupation. Maybe he was right, but the gamble is worth the try. When we’re all done and setting around the home which would you rather say, ‘I played as hard and fast as I could,’ or ‘I never ran into the game because I was afraid of falling.’
The winners are not the ones who grab the prize. The winners are the ones who play the game, rainy days and all.
Everyone has down days at one time or another. Whether you’re a reader or a writer I’d love to hear your creative ways to handle the blues, be it with chocolate or. . . . . .
I’m giving away an autographed copy of Tall, Dark and Texan to one person who leaves a comment.
To read more about Jodi Thomas and her books check out www.jodithomas.com
Check out my book trailer for Tall, Dark and Texan
Miss Jodi Thomas has been called ‘The Queen of Texas Romance’ and it’s with good reason. The dear lady has written a whole passel of stories about love and romance set in the state of Texas. A reader can’t go wrong with a Jodi Thomas book, I tell you right now.
The Fillies are pleased and proud to have Miss Jodi here with us tomorrow.
We’ve got the place all spiffied up and ready. The best china is out and the silver teapot is gleaming. All we need is for you to hitch up your buggies and hightail it over here. You’ll have a chance to win a free book.
We’ll have a grand ol’ time I betcha!
This sexy cowboy is giving me a fit of the vapors. Lord have mercy!!
It has been a crazy few months for me, full of car crashes, cracked noggins and missed deadlines…but I made it through; my truck is fixed, my boy (who fractured his noggin at school in Sept) is on the mend and in school this week and though my books were late, I have turned in the final books in both my WILD and BRIDE series (to be released in 09′)—Whoooohoooo!!!!!!!
To celebrate I cracked open a bottle of merlot and a box of dark chocolate truffles And then it was time to catch up on laundry, dishes, all the house stuff I’ve been putting off while dealing with all those deadline detours (For those waiting on a prize from me, I’ve got ‘em ready to go–I’ll be hitting the post office tomorrow!) We’re also in the midst of remodeling our house and I finished just in time to pick out appliances, flooring and countertops. That’s some catch-up I’ll really enjoy.
After twenty-four hours of catching my breath, my editor asked—What’s next and when are you sending it??
Enough of catching the breath–time to gear up for something new, the really fun part of emerging from the madness into a new sense of freedom—STARTING A NEW SERIES. I love a blank canvas, starting anew with the freedom to go anywhere, find a new nitch in history and create fresh characters with compelling stories to tell. I also love the research, pulling out all my old research books and BUYING NEW. As another little celebration gift to myself I added to my personal research library today. Check out what Amazon is sending me:
It’s going to be an early Christmas!! I can’t wait to sit down with this box of books and simply submerge my brain in facts and images and see what will spark with my newly forming characters. These books give a few hints about my upcoming series…and my fetish for fiesty heroines. The stories will revolve around the forging and expansion of a boomtown…still choosing a location. I’m thumbing through my history books and rolling out my maps…..
What is your ideal setting for a romance novel…have a favorite state or terrain? Do you prefer stories set in a certain time of year…winter, spring, summer?
Don’t miss the second BRIDE book—you’ll get to meet the hero of the third!
While fixing supper last night, I caught Hairspray on my kitchen TV. I love to find something that I can listen to while I’m in the kitchen, and Hairspray is one of my fun favorites. I’ve probably seen it, oh, five or six times. “Good morning, Baltimore!”
After watching Music & Lyrics I sang that silly “I’ve been living with a clown above my bed” line to myself for days. Do you ever get a song from a movie stuck in our head and it just won’t go away? Sometimes that’s a good thing, sometimes not so much.
You know, I love to make lists, so here is a list of some of my favorite songs from movies.
* My Heart Will Go On, Celine Dion, Titanic
* Pretty Woman, Roy Orbison, Pretty Woman
* This Old Time Rock & Roll, Bob Seger, Risky Business
* The Time of My Life, Jennifer Warnes & Bill Medley, Dirty Dancing
* Take My Breath Away, Berlin, Top Gun
* Unchained Melody, Righteous Brothers, Ghost
* You’ve Got A Way, Shania Twain, Notting Hill
* To Make You Feel My Love, Tricia Yearwood, Hope Floats
* Summer Nights, John Travolta, Olivia Newton-John, Grease
* Under the Boardwalk, Bette Midler, Beaches
* Calling All Angels, Pay it Forward
What are your favorite unforgettable songs from the movies? Are any of these on your favorites list? Which ones are stuck in your head for life?
1. It is always possible to find a parking spot directly outside or opposite the building you are visiting.
2. When paying for a taxi, don’t look at your wallet as you take out a note. Just grab one out at random and hand it over. It will always be the exact fare.
3. Television news bulletins usually contain a story that affects you personally at the precise moment it’s aired.
4. Creepy music (or satanic chanting) coming from a graveyard should always be closely investigated.
5. Any lock can be picked with a credit card or paperclip in seconds. UNLESS it’s the door to a burning building with a child inside.
6. If you decide to start dancing in the street, everyone you bump into will know all the steps.
7. All bombs are fitted with electronic timing devices with large red digital displays so you know exactly when they are going to explode.
8. Should you wish to pass yourself off as a German officer, it will not be necessary to learn to speak German. Simply speaking English with a German accent will do. Similarly, when they are alone, all German soldiers prefer to speak English to each other.
9. Once applied, lipstick will never rub off. Even while scuba diving.
10. The Eiffel Tower can be seen from any window of any building in Paris.
11. Any police officer about to retire from the force will more often than not die on their last day (especially if their family have planned a party). (Caveat: Detectives can only solve a case after they have been suspended from duty).
12. Getaway cars never start first go. But all cop cars do. (They will also slide to a dramatic stop in the midst of a crime scene).
13. If staying in a haunted house, women should investigate any strange noises wearing their most revealing underwear.
14. On a police stake-out, the action will only ever take place when food is being consumed and scalding hot coffees are perched precariously on the dashboard . . .
15. All grocery shopping involves the purchase of French loaves which will be placed in open brown paper bags (Caveat: when said bags break, only fruit will spill out).
16. Cars never need fuel (unless they’re involved in a pursuit).
17. If you are heavily outnumbered in a fight involving martial arts, your opponents will wait patiently to attack you one by one by dancing around you in a threatening manner until you have defeated their predecessor.
18. If a microphone is turned on it will immediately feedback.
19. Guns are like disposable razors. If you run out of bullets, just throw the gun away. you will always find another one.
20. All single women have a cat.
21. Cars will explode instantly when struck by a single bullet.
22. No matter how savagely a spaceship is attacked, its internal gravity system is never damaged.
23. If being chased through a city you can usually take cover in a passing St Patrick’s Day parade – at any time of the year.
24. The ventilation system of any building is the perfect hiding place. Nobody will ever think of looking for you in there and you can travel to any other part of the building undetected.
25. You will survive any battle in any war UNLESS you show someone a picture of your sweetheart back home.
26. Prostitutes always look like Julia Roberts or Jamie Lee Curtis. They have expensive clothes and nice apartments but no pimps. They are friendly with the shopkeepers in their neighbourhood who don’t mind at all what the girl does for a living.
27. A single match is usually sufficient to light up a room the size of a football stadium.
28. It is not necessary to say “Hello” or “Goodbye” when beginning a telephone conversation. A disconnected call can always be restored by frantically beating the cradle and saying “Hello? Hello?” repeatedly.
29. One man shooting at 20 men has a better chance of killing them all than 20 men firing at once (it’s called Stallone’s Law).
30. When you turn out the light to go to bed, everything in you room will still be visible, just slightly bluish.
31. Plain or even ugly girls can become movie star pretty simply by removing their glasses and rearranging their hair.
32. Rather than wasting bullets, megalomaniacs prefer to kill their enemies with complicated devices incorporating fuses, pulleys, deadly gases, lasers and man-eating sharks.
33. All beds have special L-shaped sheets that reach to armpit level on a woman but only up to the waist of the man lying beside her.
34. Anyone can land a 747 as long as there is someone in the control tower to talk you down.
35. During all police investigations it will be necessary to visit a strip club at least once.
36. You can always find a chainsaw when you need one.
37. Most musical instruments (especially wind instruments and accordions) can be played without moving your fingers.
38. In Middle America, all gas station attendants have red handkerchiefs hanging out of their back pockets.
39. All teen house parties have one of every stereotypical subculture present (even people who aren’t liked and would never get invited to parties).
40. Trucks use their horns at random (no hang on, that happens in real life too!).
I laugh every time I watch Hugh Grant in this spoof of an 80s music video.
Wouldn’t it be great if our books had theme songs?I wonder what Her Montana Man would sound like.My original title was A Hero’s Embrace, now that has a definite musical ring, doesn’t it?
I’m going to give away three advance copies of my December book HER MONTANA MAN to three people who leave comments today.
Published at November 5th, 2008 in category Announcements
Miss Jodi Thomas, a well-known and talented lady, will arrive in Wildflower Junction this weekend.
The Fillies are delighted to have such a renowned author make her way to our fair city. It’s not everyday a three time RWA Rita winner steps foot on our Main Street. We’re tickled pink.
Miss Jodi has a brand spanking new book out, Tall, Dark and Texan. It’s the third book of her Whispering Mountain series. This is Teagen McMurray’s story and it’s a humdinger. Please come and help us roll out the welcome mat and stay around to chat with Miss Jodi. You won’t regret it, I guarantee.
Gee, I sure do like this the looks of this man. Sigh. Okay, enough of that. In the mid-1800′s, Indian agents began the start of separating Indian children from their parents and taking them far away to the white man’s school. This was considered by the “do-gooders” (as they are sometimes affectionately referred to in Native America) as beneficial.
Many of those children committed suicide. Some simply faded away or became sick with the startling difference in food, culture, clothing and way of life. Some learned as well as they could, only to return to their reservations ill-equipped to meet the challenges that would face them there. None ever — not ever — forgot their true heritage. Never. And when times became more tolerant, these people quickly reverted to their roots, as best they could remember them.
In Native America, and perhaps in most other cultures, one’s morals and indeed ones idea of what is considered expected of him in the society in which he lives, is conveyed through one’s language. Let me give some examples here to make this a little more real. In Native America, there were no such things as curse words. The name of the Creator, and all concerning that aspect of life was considered so sacred that the very idea of taking the name in vein was entirely foreign. The way in which one addressed his brothers, sisters, his relatives, his uncles and aunts was all part of the language and gave these kinds of stable datums to children from the very beginning of their life. The making of clothes, the industry of the women, the differences between the sexes, the way in which one treated one’s mother-in-law or father-in-law, was all part of the language. If one were to strip one of his right to speak his own tongue, one would also, at the same time, strip one of the moral fiber of the community.
It was a hard time for those children — not only leaving their families, but also in returning to a world that seemed now foreign to them. Some couldn’t make the change. But what I find interesting is how the language was used to destroy a culture. Language. More examples: We can often “know” a person by the way they speak (or so we think). We listen to the slow drawl of a Texan and some of us sigh. We listen to the fast-paced jargon of a New Englander and our heads might spin just trying to keep up with all they’re saying. Or how about the Saturday Night Live version of a Samurai in the roll of a food server? Just the imitation of the speech patterns of the Samurai, combined with the outrageousness of a restaurant setting was enough to set me to laughing.
So tell me what are your thoughts about all this? I do know that I have been told by more than one Native American elder of the importance of language — and how it alone might keep alive a culture. What do you think? Can language do all this? Can language take us to places we’ve never seen, soothe our spirits, become our friend? I know I’m talking to many writers here, so please come on in and let me know what you think.
Don’t forget to pickup your copy today! 
And then it was time to catch up on laundry, dishes, all the house stuff I’ve been putting off while dealing with all those deadline detours 
(For those waiting on a prize from me, I’ve got ‘em ready to go–I’ll be hitting the post office tomorrow!) We’re also in the midst of remodeling our house and I finished just in time to pick out appliances, flooring and countertops. That’s some catch-up I’ll really enjoy. 
