Eats, SHOOTS, and Gives Away Books

  

  A Gunfighter’s Rules to Live By

  • Bring a gun. Two is even better

  • Stand with the sun at your back

  • Shoot first and don’t miss

  • There’s no such thing as fair play

  • In a gunfight take your time in a hurry

  • If you’re not shooting you better be loading

  

Okay, I admit it; where guns are concerned I’m a chicken. So when my son announced he signed me up for a shooting class I didn’t exactly jump with joy.  “Come on, Ma,” he beseeched when I balked.  “I told them you write westerns and they agreed to bring their Old West collection.” 

 

Well, shoot!

  

The first challenge was finding the place.  It’s hidden somewhere in a canyon in the San Fernando Valley at the end of a very long dirt road.  Upon my arrival I was introduced to Bodie aka Willy Clark. Dressed in authentic cowboy gear he looked like a character right out of a Louis L’Amour book. He didn’t just know weapons he knew the west.  Bodie likes to put history in context.  “Hollywood did us no favor,” he explained. “While cowboys were shooting up Tombstone, Bell was talking on the telephone.”

  

Bodie and I discussed a tricky scene I’m working on and he gave me some terrific ideas.  The other workshop attendees—all men by the way—got in the act.  I wonder what they’d say if they knew they were helping plot a romance novel?  

 

Bodie ran down the safety rules and taught us how to load a weapon with black gunpowder cartridges.  What you need to know about gunpowder is that is smells like sulphur and makes a lot of smoke.

 

Contrary to popular belief poor shooting was the norm in the Old West and it’s easy to see that gunpowder smoke was partly to blame. A gun battle between cowboys and Indians would have created quite a smokescreen.   Some lawmen fared no better in shooting skills than did your average cowpoke.   A self-generated reputation–the deadlier the better– saved many a lawman from dying in the street.  No one was better at exaggerating than Bill Hickok, who described an ambush of three farmers as a shoot-out with nine desperados.  

  

Few gunslingers carried a notched weapon, probably because they didn’t want to embarrass themselves.  Of course, this didn’t keep Bat Masterson from running a successful business selling “genuine” notched guns during his retirement.

 

The Real Gun that Won the West

 

Hint, hint, it was not the Peacemaker. Cody insists it was the 12-gauge double-barrel shotgun (also called a scattergun).  The double barrel means it has two triggers. The shotgun was the most prevalent weapon in the U.S. and every rancher, farmer, wagon train emigrant and cavalryman had one. The shotgun was easy to use and the perfect weapon for everything from shooting game to fighting off Indians.   

 

The scattering effect of buckshot had its good and bad side.  Buckshot spreads eight inches for every twenty-five feet.  In layman’s terms that means that unless you are close to your target you’ll probably miss.  But it was precisely this spreading effect that made it the weapon of choice for lawmen wishing to control unruly crowds.

 

A Kick like a Mule

  

The first time I pulled a shotgun trigger I near fell over backward.  That kick would make any mule proud. The hands you see behind me belong to my son, ready to catch me on my second round. I learned the hard way to hold the butt against my shoulder—hard!  

 

 After “mastering” the shotgun I moved on to the Colt Peacemaker.  The Colt was popular with lawmen and outlaws alike. Loading a Colt was more involved than loading a shotgun. To keep a round from discharging a loaded chamber by accident you load only “five beans in the wheel”  by loading one, missing one and loading the rest. If you’re heading for a gunfight be sure to load all six beans.  If by chance you’re chased by outlaws while on your horse, hold your gun and reins in your left hand and load with your right.

  

 The thing you need to know about the peacemaker is that the barrel tends to move upward after you fire.  That’s why Bat Masterson said to aim for the belt buckle and hit ’em in the chest.  Bat was credited with shooting thirty-one men though in reality he shot only one.  This proves that shooting at belt buckles isn’t as easy as you might think. 

 

I came away from my lesson without any notches on my belt, but taking a cue from my fisherman husband I can now talk about the target that got away.

 

How about you? Any notches on your belt?  The best story–true or false–wins a book!

 

A Vision of Lucy (A Rocky Creek Romance)

 

We Have “A Vision of Lucy” Winner!

Thank you all for your responses. It sounds like the camera-buffs and camera rebuffs run about fifty-fifty.   It’s nice to know I’m not the only one camera-challenged.

 

The winnie of the book admits to being a fairly good shot with a camera, thought she could climb up a tree but wasn’t sure she could climb down. 

 

 Say cheese!

 

Patricia B

  

Email me your mailing address:  Margaret@margaretbrownley.com and I’ll pop a book in the mail.

  

  

As for the rest of you, you can still win a prize by entering “A Vision of Funny” photograph contest. 

If you can’t take a good photo

at least take a funny one.   

Check my facebook page on June 28th!  

A Vision of Lucy and Book Giveaway

 

 

Okay, I admit it. I’m a terrible photographer.  If it wasn’t for the annual school photos my kids’ childhoods would have passed into unrecorded history.  I guess you could say I’m a person who likes to see the big picture.  I hate to spend birthdays and trips to Disneyland looking through a tiny lens.

 

That’s why I made my husband the designated photographer during the early years of our marriage.  Big mistake; he stands six foot six which explains why our photo albums are filled with clouds, treetops and the roof of Sleeping Beauty’s Magic Castle.  In his defense he did get some great shots of our son’s cowlick.

 

I guess by now you might think it strange that I would write about a lady photographer–in the 1800s no less, when cameras weighed a ton, required long exposures and dangerous chemicals.

 

Stranger things have happened.  I just discovered 136 photos of my right ear on my cell phone.  Who knows?  This new technology might make a photographer out of me yet.

 

Excerpt from A Vision of Lucy Tree 099 clip art

 

As the book opens we find Lucy sitting in a tree determined to photograph a legendary white stal-lion known to roam nearby.  Her troubles are just about to begin:

 

A rumbling sound alerted her. Peering through the branches, she realized it was the Wells Fargo stagecoach, two days late as usual.

 

Sighing, she wiggled into a more comfortable position and restlessly swung her bare legs. No wild stallion would make an appearance as long as the stage was in the area, but she had no choice but to sit and wait.

 

The rumbling of the stage grew louder, as did the impatient shouts of the driver urging his team of six horses up the slight incline. To while away the boredom, she decided to take a photograph of the stage as it passed below.

 

She adjusted the camera so that it pointed to the road and peered into the viewfinder. The image, though dim, was clear on the frosted glass. No black cloth was needed. She moved the lever to adjust the shutter speed to high.

 

Fingering the leather bulb in hand, she waited. The bulb, attached to a rubber tube, allowed her to take photographs without jarring the camera. Steady, steady—

 

Startled by voices, she pulled away from the camera and blinked. The stagecoach had stopped directly below her and the driver disembarked, hands over his head.

 

It was then that she noticed the three horsemen she had seen earlier, their faces now hidden beneath bright colored kerchiefs. She had been so focused on the stage she failed to notice their presence until now. The sun glinted against the barrel of a gun and she gasped. Covering her mouth with her hand, she watched the drama unfold below.

 

The stagecoach was being robbed. Shock soon turned to delight. She couldn’t believe her good fortune. A wonderful photographic opportunity had practically fallen into her lap—or more accurately, at her feet. Just wait until Jacoby Barnes hears about this!

 

The gunman came into view below her, yelling, “Get the box!” He was no doubt referring to the green wooden Wells Fargo money box strapped next to the driver’s seat.

 

Praying the bandits would not notice her high-button shoes strewn at the base of the tree, she peered through her viewfinder.

 

The lens was focused on the driver, but if she moved it to the right, just so . . . heart pounding with excitement, she leaned forward and readjusted the camera, tightening the rope that held it.

 

 A twig snapped and one of the robbers looked up. She quickly pulled back and lost her balance. Arms and legs flailing, she fell through the air letting loose an ear-piercing scream. She landed on the stagecoach roof with a thud, sprawled face down.

 

The startled horses whinnied and the stage took off, taking her with it and leaving the startled gunmen, passengers, and driver in the dust.

 

I’m giving away a copy of the book so speak up!  On another note my publisher is getting ready to launch “A Vision of Funny” photograph contest with prizes for the most humorous photos.  You’ll be able to post entries on my Facebook page. Watch for upcoming announcement or sign up for my newsletter at www.margaretbrownley.com

 

Meanwhile, tell us what kind of photographer you are.   Do people pose or run when they see you pull out  a camera?  Finally, how many ear photos do you have?

 

Anything can happen when posing for Lucy–and usually does.

 

A Vision of Lucy (A Rocky Creek Romance)

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All the News That’s Fit to Print–and Then Some

 

Love and Laughter in the Old West

 

Margaret Brownley

 

 

 

 

One of my favorite research tools is old newspapers.  I used to make myself sick going through microfiche at the library, but thanks to the Internet many old newspapers are now available on line.

 

Reading some of these newspapers is like reading the National Enquirer.  During the 1800s there were no shortages of ghosts, UFOS, monsters and other strange phenomena.  Weird animals?  You name it.  Giant reptiles, huge birds and an eighteen horn cow made headlines.  It wasn’t just oversized animals that made news: One man supposedly outgrew his coffin. 

 

Buzzing lights, airships, immense meteors and strange moving lights were witnessed by firemen, undertakers, miners and a twelve year old who “didn’t believe in ghosts, whose parents never scared him with spook stories, and who is one of the best behaved scholars in the fourth grade.”

 

Meteor sightings frightened residents and created “adject fear” in livestock. An air ship spotted over Dallas, Texas in 1896 was proclaimed by preachers to be the “Second coming of Christ.”

 

Cowboys and Martians

 

You’ve heard of Roswell and the alien that supposedly crashed there, but did you know that something similar happened in Aurora, TX in 1887?  According to “Hidden Headlines of Texas” compiled by Chad Lewis “something out of this world” crashed and demolished a windmill in Aurora.  “Mr. T.J. Weems, a U.S. Army Signal Service Officer and an authority on astronomy, gives his opinion that the pilot was a native of Mars.”

 

Ghosts were reported throughout the west, even by those proclaiming not to believe in them.  Houses, mines, theaters and even certain roads were haunted.  According to an article in a Tombstone Epitaph dated 1907, a Texas mining man purchased a haunted mine and soon realized his mistake when “spirits” chased away his workers.

 

Wild men ran rampant through the old west, though none of the real wild men reported in newspapers were quite as handsome as the “wild man” in my June release A Vision of Lucy (Yep, inspiration abounds in those old newspapers). Posses were formed to chase down scantily-clad wild men but apparently few were ever caught. 

 

Blame it on the Republicans

 

One wild man in Galveston created “consternation” among its citizens by “lapping up milk like a dog” and “eating fried chicken raw.”   Not everyone was disturbed by his behavior.  The Galveston Daily News defended the wild man in an editorial: “Well, do not be heard on the poor, frenzied half-frenzied creature; he is probably some eminent Republican who ran away to keep from being nominated for the vice presidency.”

 

“Lunacy” and “sudden insanity” seemed to plague 19th century citizens.  Jokes, religious excitement, storms and disgrace were among the reasons given for a sudden crazed or deranged state.   One husband had his wife committed for reading a dime novel.

 

You’ve heard of postal workers running amok, right?  It turns out that telegraph operators sometimes went postal, too.  One such telegrapher in El Paso, Texas proclaimed he was God and threatened to “demolish” a co-worker.   Another crazed telegraph operator terrorized an entire county.  It’s not clear if he was ever captured.  Then there was the man who claimed to be hypnotized by telegram.

 

Things got so bad according to a preface in Wisconsin Death Trap by Michael Lesy that “Many historians have become convinced there was a major crisis in American life during the 1890s.”

 

 Must be Those Electric Curlers

 

Some people blamed the bizarre behavior reported in newspaper in the latter half of the nineteenth century on the Industrial Revolution.  Electricity, telephone and automobile came right on the heels of the train and telegraph.  Not only did these inventions change the way people lived but how they thought.  Electricity was even blamed for “messing with women’s heads.”  Some were more than eager to blame Edison for the suffragette movement that swept the country.   

 

It kind of makes you wonder what they’ll say about those of us who lived through the electronic revolution, doesn’t it?  Personally, I haven’t seen any Martians, but I swear I was once hypnotized by my iphone.

 

www.margaretbrownley.com

 

A Vision of Lucy (A Rocky Creek Romance)

Bestselling Author and Professional Chef Team up for Mother’s Day

 

Margaret Brownley

 

and Daughter

 

Robyn Fennessy

 

 

 

The following article appeared in several major newspapers around the country and was written by my good friend Lee Duran.  I wanted to share it with you–and wish you all a very happy Mother’s Day.  Be sure to print off my daughter’s yummy recipes at the end of the article.

 

Bestselling author and professional chef team up for Mother’s Day

          The result is tasty recipes to go with national popularity of books

 

One writes bestselling inspirational romance novels and on a famous occasion burned the orange juice; the other is a Le Cordon Bleu chef. 

 

Together this odd couple is mother Margaret Brownley and daughter Robyn Brownley Fennessy.  They’ll be celebrating Mother’s Day together with the rest of the family on May 8 when Margaret, who earned the sobriquet  “Microwave Mom,” graciously allows Robyn to do all the cooking—the dream of many a mom.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       )

Although they’re pursuing wildly differing goals, they’re also busy supporting each other while respecting the differences between them.

How does a writer support a chef?  “She cooks and I eat,” Margaret says with a laugh. “It works out very well.” 

 

And how does a chef support a writer?  “By creating recipes inspired by the flavor of the novels,” Robyn says.  “I whip up desserts to capture all the romance, sweetness and fun of Mom’s books.  I started with a luscious Rocky Creek Chocolate Mousse Torte for the first book in her current series and the idea just took off from there.”  The recipes are a great promotion tool and Margaret includes them on her website and in her newsletters.

 

Margaret has written more than 25 novels, including the bestselling western historical Rocky Creek series for Thomas Nelson.  The third and last book in the series, “A Vision of Lucy,” will be released June 28 in both print and e-book.

 

Margaret’s writing career began, and ended, early.  She wrote her first book in fifth grade—a mystery without an ending.  Unimpressed with Margaret’s essay on why she wanted to be a writer her eighth grade English teacher not only flunked her but suggested she not even think about a career as a writer.

 

Dream squashed, she did little writing until she became editor of the church newsletter many years later.  After making a church picnic read like a Grisham novel, her then pastor took her aside and said, “Maybe God’s calling you to write fiction.”

 

Robyn’s dream began with an Easy-Bake oven when she was eight and carried her through to a full scholarship to a Cordon Bleu school in England—presented by Julia Child.  She also trained under Master Chef Raimon Hoffmeister.

 

On her first day on a job in a hotel restaurant, she said, “An irritable head chef greeted me by declaring ‘Women don’t belong in the kitchen.’”

Which just happened to be her mother’s philosophy so she didn’t take it to heart.  She currently does private catering and will answer all your cooking questions at www.chefsline.com.

 

Margaret, a 2010 Romance Writers of America RITA finalist, is currently working on a new book series.  And yes, she really did burn the orange juice while trying to defrost it in a pan.

 

Here are a few of the recipes Robyn created for her appreciative mom.  “I hope you enjoy them, and that everyone has a happy Mother’s Day,” she says.

  

RECIPES:

Robyn created a nutty crust to represent the fictitious town of Rocky Creek, Texas in her mom’s book.  The same crust can be used for both the Chocolate and Raspberry Tortes.

 

Ingredients For Rocky Creek Crust:

½ cup butter                                
1 cup flour
½ cup chopped blanched almonds
¼ cup sugar

1 teaspoon cinnamon (omit for raspberry torte)                     

Directions for Crust

Preheat oven 350°. Melt butter in a saucepan.  Add flour, sugar, cinnamon and almonds.  Cook, over medium heat for 3-4 minutes.  Press into the bottom of a Torte pan.  Bake for 10-12 minutes until golden brown. Cool.

 

Rocky Creek Chocolate Torte

Nothing says romance like chocolate, which just happens to be this mother/daughter team’s favorite treat.

 

Ingredients for filling

8 oz sweet or semi-sweet chocolate, melted

6 tablespoons butter, softened

3 egg yolks

1 cup heavy cream (make sure it’s heavy)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

3 egg whites

¼  cup sugar

 

Directions for filling

Beat the soft butter into melted chocolate.  Beat in egg yolks one at a time.  Beat the cream and add vanilla extract. Beat egg whites until they form soft peaks. Sprinkle in sugar by spoonfuls and continue beating until stiff peaks are formed. Fold into chocolate mixture. Whip cream and gently fold into chocolate mixture.  Turn the mousse into prepared cooled Torte dish. Cover and chill for several hours.  Decorate with swirls of whipped cream or raspberries.

 

  

Rocky Creek Raspberry Torte

Robyn calls this torte the perfect ending to a summer meal.

 

Ingredients for filling

2 cups fresh or frozen raspberries

1 tablespoon unflavored gelatin

1 tablespoon lemon juice

4 cups whipped cream

¼ cup sugar

 

Directions for filling

Whip three cups whipped cream and chill. Combine 1½ cups raspberries and sugar. Heat and stir over medium heat until liquid. Stir in gelatin. Remove from heat and scrape into a large bowl. Cool five minutes. Add one cup chilled whipped cream to raspberry mixture and mix well. Fold in remaining whipped cream. Pour into cooled prepared Torte Pan.

 

www.chefsline.com

www.margaretbrownley.com

 A Vision of Lucy (A Rocky Creek Romance

Your Dog can be Famous—or Infamous

 By Starring in One of Margaret Brownley’s Books

   

First, a Few Fun Facts About Man’s (and Woman’s) Best Friend 

  •   Just as cowboys avoid wearing belts when working, cowdogs don’t wear collars. Belts and collars could cause injury.

  • A good cowdog can do the work of six cowboys

  •   The U.S. has the highest dog population in the world (You knew that, right?)

  •   Up until the late 1800’s, Collies were known as Scottish Sheepdogs

  •   All dogs are direct descendants of wolves (yes, even your sweet, cuddly Chihuahua)

  •   Davy Crockett had a dog named Sport

  •   Three dogs survived the sinking of the Titanic – a Newfoundland, a Pomeranian, and a Pekingese

  •   The name Fido is derived from a Latin word meaning faithful

  •   The name Rover is thought to have come from the Bible verse that begins, Moreover, the dogs…

  •   The Poodle was originally a water dog.  The ribbon commonly tied onto a poodle’s topknot wasn’t always for decorative purposes.  It’s thought that the original  purpose of the ribbon was to make it easier to find the dog in water.  

 

 

I’m looking for a dog—and it could be yours–to star in book 2 of my Brides of Last Chance Ranch series scheduled for publication 2012 by Thomas Nelson. 

 

Tell me why your pooch will make a great furry sidekick for Dr. Caleb Fairbanks of Arizona Territory in 1896 in 200 words or less and your dog could be sent on a Wild West adventure—literally speaking, of course.  (No dogs will be hurt during the writing of this book.)

 

You’ll first meet Caleb in A Vision of Lucy, the third and last book in my Rocky Creek series to be published in June.  He’s Lucy’s sixteen year old brother and he wants to be a doctor.  He’s charming and funny and I hated to let him go. Through the magic of literary time I decided to age Caleb fifteen years and make him the hero of his very own book.  Since he’s an animal lover he’ll naturally need a furry companion to take on his rounds.  The good doctor will also need a love interest but I’ve got that part covered.   

 

Tell me what traits, quirks and good or bad habits your dog has that I can work into the book.   The breed won’t be mentioned unless it’s compatible with the times.  Caleb is one smart fellow but he probably wouldn’t know what to do with a Labradoodle or Shepogo.

 

Proceeds will go to Have a Heart Humane Society in Tehachapi  CA for the emergency vet care of homeless, abused and abandoned pets.  This is a non-profit organization.  Entries must be postmarked by midnight August 31th, 2011.  The winner will be notified by September 30th and will be required to sign a release giving me permission to use the dog in my book.

 

To submit your furry companion go to www.margaretbrownley.com or www.haveahearthumanesociety.org

 

Dogs are owned but cats have staff.

Any dog stories you want to share?

 

A Vision of Lucy (A Rocky Creek Romance) 

 

Dime Novels: Chills, Thrills and Rootin’ Tootin’ Cowboys

 

 

Save me, save me.

Bang, bang, bang.

Curses, foiled again!

 

Margaret Brownley

 

Your Victorian ancestor probably had one shocking vice up her leg o’mutton sleeve—or tucked in her apron.  If she was the typical nineteenth century woman she was lashed to social mores in dress, manner and speech but, oh, did she enjoy her lurid dime novels! 

 

The first dime novel “Malaeska, the Indian Wife of the White Hunter” was published in 1860 and quickly sold 65,000.  That book started a craze that would remain popular until 1915. Melodramatic? You bet, but that was part of the fun.  The stories were lurid—the purple prose outrageous—but readers couldn’t seem to get enough.

 

The root of the dime novel can be traced back to James Fenimore Cooper’s popular Leatherstocking Tales, which romanticized the wild frontier, and explains why most dimers were set in the west. Dime novels actually sold anywhere from a nickel to twenty-five cents–far cheaper than the dollar charged for literary books.  Called Penny Dreadfuls and Shilling Shockers in Europe, worldwide readership was estimated to be in the millions.

 

A series of events led to the proliferation of dime novels. Mandatory education resulted in more literacy and the invention of the steam printing press lowered the cost of printing. Railroads made distribution easier and books more accessible. Sales of dime novels surged during the Civil War. Confederates and Union soldiers were on opposing sides politically but both camps shared the same passion for pirates, mountain men, adventurers and detectives.

 

These formulaic stories ranged between thirty-five to fifty-five thousand words. The small four by six hundred page format could be conveniently carried in pocket or purse.  Most dime novels like the popular Deadwood Dick’s Doom; or Calamity Jane’s Last Adventure, had two titles, probably to persuade readers that the story was too big and exciting for only one. 

 

 From Dimes to Crimes

 

Though the lurid cover art and violent stories were severely criticized by moralists as having a bad influence on youth—and corrupting the delicate brains of women—the stories actually reinforced the values of patriotism, courage and self-reliance.  This, however, didn’t stop critics from blaming them for everything from childish pranks to violent crimes and even the Women’s Rights movement.

 

Voracious Readers Made Cranky Writers

Popular writers were expected to produce a book every few days.  Some writers reportedly could turn out a thousand words an hour for twelve hour stretches.

 

 Eugene T. Sawyer, the so-called “King of Dime Novelists” and author of seventy-five Nick Carter novels,  claimed to have written three 50,000-word novels in a month, and to have finished a 60,000-word novel in just two days—while his wife plied him with coffee.  Considering his remarkable output, perhaps we can forgive  his ill-regard for readers whom he claimed were  “…people of narrow, dull, monotonous lives, who never get any thrills out of real life and must compensate in stories that give them a thrill per page.” 

 

A New Kind of Hero

Books based on real people such as Buffalo Bill, Kit Carson and Jesse James were especially popular, though the stories were purely fiction. The good guys battled evil and no bad deed was left unpunished. Chaste damsels in distress needed rescuing and dashing heroes were only too happy to oblige. By today’s standards the books were racist, but they reflected the times.  They also helped to establish a new social order where males were judged by deeds rather than social status.  For this reason the western hero became the symbol of the ideal man. 

 

One dime novel featuring Kit Carson had an unexpected impact on him. He chased down a group of Apache Indians to rescue a kidnapped white woman only to discover her dead.  In her belongings was a copy of the book Kit Carson, the Happy Warrior.  He later told the story in his autobiography: “We found a book in the camp, the first of the kind I had ever seen, in which I was represented as a great hero, slaying Indians by the hundred. I have often thought that Mrs. White must have read it, and knowing that I lived nearby, must have prayed for my appearance in order that she might be saved. I did come, but I lacked the power to persuade those that were in command over me to follow my plan for her rescue.”

 

The Demise of the Dime Novel

By the late 1800s pulp magazines replaced dime novels in popularity and the world was getting ready to greet a new type of story-telling—the motion picture.

 

Coming in June 

 

A Vision of Lucy (A Rocky Creek Romance) 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Say Cabbage!

 Stories that Inspire…

 

Margaret Brownley

 

 

Sage advice for photographers from…

 

A Vision of Lucy

(Available for preorder)     

       

  • When photographing stampeding cattle, charging bulls or blazing   shoot-outs, use a fast shutter speed

  • Brides, take pity on your photographer.  Matthew S. Brady and his helpers were able to record the entire War Between the States with little more than 1100 photographs.  Half that number should satisfy most brides.

  • Doctors, do not look at the camera like it’s a patient needing help through death’s door.  Such a pose will speak ill of you, and it won’t do much for your practice, either. 

  • A man imagines himself more handsome than his photograph; a woman believes herself more homely.

  • While posing for a photograph spinsters should avoid looking desperate or deprived.  A serene smile will show that your circumstances are by choice and not for lack of beauty or character.

  

I loved writing about old time photography and have nothing but awe for the brave souls who first took camera in hand.  It wasn’t just men who battled unwieldy equipment and exploding chemicals in the name of art.  Women were also photographers and a few even made a name for themselves.  It was these early female photographers who  gave me the inspiration for the heroine of my book, Lucy Fairbanks. 

 

Cameras and Babies: an Odd Combination

 Since female occupations were not listed on the census until 1870, it’s hard to know how many professional women photographers existed in America before that time. We do know, however, that some, like Julia Shannon of San Francisco, owned their own studios as early as 1850.  Julia took the family portrait to new heights when she shockingly advertised herself as a daguerreotypist and midwife. No one appeared to be shocked when male barbers and blacksmiths offered photographs with their other services. 

 

Women had an advantage over male photographers, who were often confounded by female dress. This explains why one photographer advertised in 1861 for an assistant, “Who Understands the Hairdressing Business.”  Women also had a few tricks up their leg of mutton sleeves—or rather their skirts.  Elizabeth Withington invented a “dark thick dress skirt” to use as a developing tent when she traveled.   

 

Those cheerless faces in early photographs were partly due to vices that held heads still for long periods of time, but that wasn’t the only reason.  A tightly controlled mouth was once considered a thing of beauty.  In her essay “Why We say ‘Cheese’: Producing the Smile in Snapshot Photography,” Christina Kotchemidova, an Assistant Professor in Mass Communication at Spring Hill College, wrote that photography was once the domain of the rich. Smiles were worn only by peasants, children and drunks.  She then goes on to explain that fast shutter speed, dental care and cultural changes began a process of “mouth liberalization.”

 

Photographers used all sorts of devices to hold a client’s interest.  One even had a trained monkey. Another photographer had a canary that sang on command.  Mechanical birds were a favorite gimmick and “Watch the birdie” became a familiar refrain in studios across the country.

 

                                                        What Will it Be?        Prunes or Cabbage?

Magazines and newspaper ran ample advice for posing.  An 1877 edition of The Chicago Inter-Ocean advised women with large mouths to say the word “Flip,” although one photographer preferred the word “Prunes.” If a small mouth was the problem the word “Cabbage” would make it appear larger. And, yes, some photographers really did give children laudanum or chloroform to keep them still.

 

Not everyone was enamored with cameras.  One dog owner put up a sign warning “photographers and other tramps to stay away” after his dog had an unfortunate run-in with a tripod.

 

Did photography have a bearing on the suffragette movement?  Indeed, it did, but it appeared to be more of a detriment than a help.  The photographs of militant suffragettes or women dressed in bloomers did more harm than good,  If you think America was tough on suffragettes, think again. The women’s rights movement was considered the biggest threat to the British Empire.  According to the National Archives the votes-for-women movement became the first “terrorist” organization subjected to secret surveillance photography in the world. 

 

Photography has come a long way since those early daguerreotype days.  One can only imagine what the brave souls of yesteryear would think of today’s “aim and click” cameras.  Now days you can’t even drive down the street without having your picture taken. But as Miss Gertrude Hasslebrink in A Vision of Lucy would say, “Never leave the house unless you’re ready for your close up.”

 

Meet the Ladies of Rocky Creek

                                      A Lady Like Sarah                                             

   

 

Suitor for Jenny

 

A Vision of Lucy

margaretbrownley.com

A Cowboy Comes A-Courting

More Love and Laughter in the Old West

Margaret Brownley

  When a man’s on his knees proposing, resist the urge to look triumphant.

 

                                                   —A Suitor for Jenny

 

Cowboys had a way with words so it’s not too surprising that they used some purty colorful terms to describe matters of the heart, and that included courting. “Gittin’ hitched” was serious business and spooning or sparking no less so.

Nothing changed the concept of marriage and courting as much as the westward movement. Marriage offered a semblance of security in an unsettled land. For a widow or widower with children finding a spouse was a dire necessity. 

Rules that had defined courtships for centuries went out the window and marriages arranged by well-meaning parents were no longer the norm.  The idea of romantic love was a novelty that was quickly embraced and encouraged young women to leave home and family behind and travel west.

Sun burned skin soon replaced delicate complexions and feathered hats gave way to sunbonnets. Vanilla took the place of French perfumes and muslin and lawn replaced bustles and trains.

Free of the rigors of Victorian mores, these “new” females changed in other ways; Women asserting their rights politically also demanded matrimony democracy.  One woman came right out and said what others believed.  “My husband’s got to make himself agreeable to me.  If he don’t. there’s plenty will.”

ring-1Demographics in the west were on their side for women were vastly outnumbered by men.  In the mid 1800s one man lamented that there was only sixty or seventy women in all of Houston.   He never said how many of those women he’d be willing to take home to mom.

No longer under the watchful eye of chaperones couples took buggy rides, went on picnics, cuddled in the hayloft, and kicked up their heels at dances. A man having a fancy for a woman might give her a locket or coin. Couples financially strapped simply exchange locks of hair.  One gift that was popular in the early 1800s was the courting mirror.   A cowboy wanting to gift his lady-love in the latter part of the century might have hoarded coffee.  

Yep, that’s right coffee.  The coffee that won the west may have owed its popularity more to courtship than to taste or convenience.  John Arbuckle came up with what at the time was a unique marketing plan; He added coupons or vouchers to packages of coffee that could be redeemed for goods. Arbuckle’s catalog contained thousands of items.  28 coupons was enough for a razor, which no man in love would be without, but the most popular item was the finger ring. 

During the 1890s Arbuckle Brothers was the largest distributor of finger rings in the world.  In “Arbuckles,”  author Francis Fugate quotes a company official who bears this out: “One of our premiums is a wedding ring, and if all the rings of this pattern serve their intended purpose then we have been participants in eighty thousand weddings a year.”

Getting married wasn’t always that easy. Some communities didn’t have a regular preacher and had to depend on a circuit preacher who might not show up for months at a time.  It wasn’t unusual for a saddle preacher to ride into town and find couples waiting to wed with toddlers in hand.   As one old cowboy said, “There’s no cure for love—and nobody wants one.”

Anyone have a courting or dating memory to share?

 

 To preorder:

A Vision of Lucy (A Rocky Creek Romance)

 

That’s One Hairy Profession

  

 More Love and Laughter in the Old West…

 

 

 

One of the characters in my book A SUITOR FOR JENNY is Kip Barrel, the town barber.  The poor man wanted to be an opera singer in the worst possible way but he was unable to overcome his stage fright. After a disastrous debut in a New Orleans opera house he decides to return home to the family cattle ranch, a prospect he dreads.  Fate intervenes and while riding through Rocky Creek his horse suddenly dies, forcing him to stay in town.  He eventually opens up his own barber shop.

 

 “I dreamed of being the Barber of Seville,” he laments.  “Instead, I’m the barber of Rocky Creek.”

  

Of course, he hasn’t given up singing completely. A cowboy wanting a haircut and shave at Barrel’s shop also gets an earful of Rossini.  Not bad for a few nickels.

  

 

Not all barbers provided entertainment with their shaving cream, but most did offer a little something extra. Some even gave out free mugs of beer and cigars.  In some towns barbershops offered a full menu of grooming choices. For fifty cents, a saddle worn stranger could get a bath, shave, haircut, boot shine,  his mustache waxed and pants pressed. He could also learn who was hiring, where to go for room and board and maybe even find some female companionship

  

Barbers have a long history dating all the way back to cavemen when whiskers were tackled with clam shells and flint.  People have been battling over locks since ancient times.  Whatever style one generation frowned upon the next generation was likely to embrace.

  

In the early 1800s clean-shaven faces were the rage. Hairy chins were deemed “a disgusting insult to refined society” if worn by anyone other than artists, writers or pioneers. Anyone sporting a beard might have found himself at the mercy of jeering townsmen as one hapless man in Massachusetts found out.  

  

This all changed during the California gold rush.  Beards were then grown as much for safety as convenience.  Few mastered the art of shaving with a straight edge razor and beards were the sun-screen of the day.  Whiskers also protected against frost bite.  

  

By the time the Civil War broke out  beards were favored even by easterners.  Eleven year old Grace Bedell wrote to president nominee Abraham Lincoln telling him that if he wanted to be elected president he best grow a beard.  “All the ladies like whiskers,” she wrote, “and they would tease their husbands to vote for you and then you would be President.”  Lincoln wisely took her advice.

  

It wasn’t until the 1890s that the clean-shaven chin was once again king. President Benjamin Harrison has the distinction of being the last president to sport a beard.

  

Women Take up the Razor

  

The first female barber was Madam Gardonis who worked in Galveston, Texas during the 1860s.  Frank Leslies Illustrated magazine described her as “the first woman who has successfully invaded this particular masculine profession.”  

  

Petticoat barbers weren’t the norm but more and more women entered the profession in the late 1800s.  An article in the San Francisco Examiner in 1896 had this to say: “Women’s latest audacity has been to lay hands on man’s most sacred implements—the razor and strop—and to shave him right to his very face.”

  

One woman interviewed for the article was asked if she was nervous when she first shaved a man.  She replied, “I don’t know which was trembling hardest, the man or I.” She went on to say that if she could have chloroformed the man she would have gladly done so, just so he wouldn’t look so scared.

  

What’s with the Barber Pole? 

 

We can’t talk about barbers without mentioning that all familiar red and white barber pole.  Barbering was more than a hairy business.  From the Middle Ages until the end of the 19th century barbers performed many medical duties including bloodletting, dentistry and bone setting.

  

The barber pole served triple duty in those early days.  After being pre-wound with bandages ready for surgery the poles were then hung outside the door to encourage business. During surgery, patients clutched at the poles (probably while yelling in pain). Later imitation posts were painted red and white to represent bandages used before and after bloodletting.

  

Changes

 

 The early 1900s brought many changes to the profession both good and bad.  Barber licensing laws were passed and states began to upgrade certification requirements. Then, too, the safety razor made home shaving a breeze.  The depression years took a heavy toll on barbers, but women saved the day when the “bob” became the rage. What better place to get the boyish trim than a barbershop?  Of course not every barber welcomed female clients, but those that did thrived—at least as long as the style lasted.

  

One thing that hasn’t changed is the battle over hair between generations.  It wasn’t that long ago that Disneyland refused entry to hairy hippies, and it seems like only yesterday that my husband greeted our kids with “When are you going to get a haircut?”

 

Now that my children are grown the battles over hair continue–with children of their own.   History repeats.

  

That’s it folks, the long and the short of it. Anyone with a hairy tale to share?     

www.margaretbrownley.com

 Available for Preorder 

A Vision of Lucy (A Rocky Creek Romance) 

 

 

Petticoats & Pistols