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If you’ve spent any time with my fictional Weaver family, you know they’re a lively bunch. They tease one another mercilessly, laugh a lot, work hard, and when enough of them gather in one place, there’s a good chance something unexpected is going to happen.

Readers sometimes ask where authors get their ideas. In the case of the Weavers, I didn’t have to look very far. I grew up with them. Well… sort of.

My Aunt and Uncle had twelve children, that’s twelve cousins who became part of the inspiration for the Weaver family. I didn’t take Cousin A and turn him into one Weaver, or Cousin B and turn her into another. The fictional family came from something bigger than that. It came from the spirit of my cousins. Things I remember from summers at their ranch as a kid when my dad and mom would go help with the wheat harvest. 

They are quick-witted, fun, hardworking, and they laugh. A lot. Put a bunch of them together and the stories start flying. Recently, we lost one of those twelve. and as sometimes happens after a loss in the family, I found myself looking backward and learning things about some of my cousins that I’d never known. That’s how I stumbled across a newspaper column from the East Oregonian about my cousin Joe. And let me tell you, after reading it, I thought, Well, there you go. No wonder I created the Weavers so easily.

My cousins come from ranching country in Eastern Oregon. They’re wheat farmers, but cattle ranching is also a big part of the operation. Horses, cattle, corrals, farm equipment, wheat fields stretching over the hills, it’s not scenery they visit on vacation. It’s part of their lives. The article about Joe described a day spent touring his farming and cattle operations near Ione and through South Morrow County. And apparently, when Joe gives you a ranch tour, you had better clear your calendar.

The writer began the day riding around with him in a farm truck. Okay, that’s normal enough. Then Joe took him back to the farm, walked him over to what looked like a machine shed and introduced him to the next mode of transportation: A 1952 Super Cub airplane. The runway? A patch of wheat stubble.

Of course it was. Joe flew him over remote ranch country, pointing out ridges where he’d landed over the years. According to Joe, “sometimes on purpose and sometimes in an emergency.” And it gets better.

Joe built a contraption beneath the wings of the airplane that allowed him to carry salt blocks for cattle grazing in hard-to-reach areas. He could fly low, operate a pulley system, and drop the salt block where the cattle needed it. The writer admitted imagining some unsuspecting cow getting clobbered by a sixty-pound salt block falling out of the sky. Joe assured him he’d always missed the cattle. 

After the airplane tour, they got back into the pickup and drove into the mountains, eventually reaching a fully furnished house in the middle of the ranch country.  There, Joe made lunch. Then came the four-wheelers. For the next couple of hours, they toured rough country where thousands of cattle spent the summer. The writer described Joe charging up a primitive road at about thirty-five miles an hour through snow, ice, and ruts.

 At one point the writer of the article later told his son, “He took off up the road like a madman on that machine.” His son’s response? “You were the perfect companion.”
See what I mean? This is my family. And they’re wonderful.
Cousin Joe explained to the writer of the article, that his generation had plenty of family around while growing up. The article mentions the twelve children in Joe’s family, eleven cousins across the canyon, and another group of eight children closer to Ione.
At times, the school bus picked up twenty or more of Joes relatives at the homeplace.
Can you imagine being the poor unsuspecting child who boarded that bus after all of them?
No wonder big fictional families have always felt completely normal to me!

That’s really what inspired the Weavers. Not twelve specific characters copied from twelve specific cousins. It was the atmosphere. A big rural family. Wheat and cattle. Horses and corrals. Hard work. People who know how to pitch in because there’s always something that needs doing. Who tease one another because they know each other too well to get away with much.
People who can turn an ordinary workday into a story everyone will still be laughing about years later. And, most importantly, people who enjoy one another.

I think that last part is what found its way most strongly into the Weavers. They may fuss and meddle. They may get themselves into ridiculous situations. But beneath all of it is family, and that sense that whatever happens, nobody is facing it alone.
The Weavers themselves are entirely fictional. But the laughter? The chaos? The enormous family and ranching life? That part came from someplace very real. And now, after discovering Cousin Joe once took off from a wheat field in an airplane rigged to drop salt blocks from the sky, I’m starting to wonder if maybe I’ve been too restrained with the Weavers. 

If you’d like to read the article about Cousin Joe, you can find it HERE

How about your family? Do you have a larger-than-life relative who could walk straight into the pages of a novel?
Or is there someone in your family whose personality or adventures have inspired one of your own stories?
I’d love to hear about them! I’ve giving away a copy of Harvest with the Weavers to one lucky commenter!