Catfish

August is National Catfish Month. Catfish belong to the group of ray-finned fish. They get their name because their barbs are said to resemble a cat's whiskers. The different species range from small enough for aquariums to huge. The largest one in the United States was caught in Elk City, Kansas, and weighed 123 pounds. They reside in fresh water, and most of them are bottom feeders.

Catfish have a skin instead of scales, although a few varieties have small, bony plates covering the skin. Some species inject a protein venom with a barbed sting, and in a few, the effects can range from discomfort to poisonous enough to cause death. Most catfish, however are harmless.

Catfish is a popular dish around the world. In Asia, as with most fish, they are usually served whole. Catfish farms are also popular in some areas, and they are regularly caught by fishing. In the South and parts of the Midwest, catfish are commonly found on restaurant menus. I especially like the fresh, mild-tasting, fried fillets. Let's have some for National Catfish Month.

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Persevering 

And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not (Galatians 6:9).

Perseverance is an admirable trait when used in the right way. Remember the old adage, "If at first you don't succeed try, try again." Thomas Edison put it another way: "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work."

The prophet Elijah certainly knew about perseverance. He continued following God's directives, regardless of the fact that King Ahab and Queen Jezebel wanted him dead. He even confronted the king face to face on several occasions and likely came out with an even stronger faith because he had trusted in God.

Then God sent him to Zarephath in Jezebel's home country, to stay with an impoverished widow, and her son dies. She cries out to Elijah in agony, and he wants to help her. He scoops the boy from her arms and takes him up to his chamber in the loft. He stretches himself over the boy's body and prays to the Lord. Nothing happens. Again he stretches himself over the boy, prays, and then pulls back to see. Still nothing.

And he stretched himself upon the child three times, and cried into the Lord, and said, O Lord my God. I pray thee, let this child's soul come into him again, and he revived. And Elijah took the child, and brought him down out of the chamber into the house, and delivered him unto his mother: and Elijah said, See, thy son liveth. And the woman said to Elijah, Now I know that thou art a man of God, and the the word of the Lord in thy mouth is true (1 Kings 17:21-24).

What if Elijah had given up the first time and said, "Oh well, God isn't going to grant my request?" How many miracles or blessings have we missed because we gave up too readily; we didn't persevere. Waiting on God with patience and trust can be a blessing in itself. So, when it comes to your faith and following God's Word, be stubborn and persevere.

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Grammar Gremlins

I have spent the last two weeks editing five manuscripts. Sometimes, I could almost believe that grammar gremlins come between the last edit and the first publication and cause havoc. I'm always amazed at the amount of errors that manage to sneak through, even when I always have another editor.

Take Transplanted to Red Clay, the final book in my Appalachian Roots series. The editor and I discussed, changed, and compromised until we were satisfied. Then it went to creative design, where it was typeset. When I got the first interior to view, I found mistakes still there that I thought we'd changed. I made note of the most critical ones, and hopefully Hannah will make the corrections, but there were three typed pages of them. What happened?

An, English professor and I also edited Through the Wilderness, a new manuscript set on the Oregon Trail, before I submitted it to my publisher. Yet, I'm sure I'll find mistakes when I read through it the next time and probably ever time thereafter. Even the published books have a few. Uprooted by War has three minor ones that we've found so far, but that's not too bad. I've become a lot more understanding of this since I've started publishing.

I have also been editing With Summer's Songs again. I had published it already, but I found so many errors in it, I want to redo it before I announce its release. The editor went through it twice, I've gone through it too many times to count, and yet glaring mistakes remained. On this one, I have to edit three versions: the ebook, the print copy, and the one for Smashwords. But it's important to me to have a mistake-free book. I wish I could talk the gremlins into doing corrections.

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National Cousins' Day 

July 24 is National Cousins' Day, and most of us certainly have cousins. I grew up an only child, so my cousins were especially important to me. 

By some strange quirk, most of my female cousins were on my father's side of the family - 6 girls and 1 boy. On mother's side there were 7 boys and 2 girls. All of us lived within fifteen miles of each other.

In about 25 of the states, it's illegal for cousins to marry, because they're considered too closely related. In the others, first cousins and more distantly related are allowed to marry. Many of these are in the South. For example, in North Carolina, it's legal for first cousins to marry but not double first cousins. If you remember, in Gone with the Wind, the Wilkes family always married their cousins, and Ashley, the man Scarlett first wanted, did likewise.

I was was close to many of my cousins when we were young, and we spent a lot of time playing together. They were more like brothers or sisters to me. I'm sure they looked at me as a sister, too. I appreciate all my cousins, so HAPPY COUSINS' DAY! You may want to tell yours the same.

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Content

...for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content (Philippians 4:11b)

How did Paul get to the state where he was content no matter his situation? During his life, he lived through some pretty rough circumstances. He was beaten, shipwrecked, imprisoned, tried, and finally executed. 

Paul had the most precious thing possible, and no one could ever take that away from him. He had a close, personal relationship with his Lord. You can have that too. You too can rejoice in your love-relationship with Christ. Nothing else is as satisfying.

Some people have goals and plans, and they think that once they achieve those, they will be happy. However, even if they achieve them, they won't find lasting joy unless those goals involve God and are planned by Him. His blessings are real and lasting. He is true and unchanging, and He will never leave you. You can rejoice in Him no matter what!

Rejoice in the Lord always: and again I say, Rejoice (Philippians 4:4).

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Researching Historical Novels

At my last presentation and book signing, a lady asked me how I went about my historical research. That's a difficult question to answer, because each novel presents its own set of unique research challenges. However, I tried to give her the best general answer I could.

First, I begin my research online. A computer will now provide a wide variety of information and more is added all the time. Then, I go to other sources, like libraries, museums, and colleges to fill in any gaps I see in my information. If that doesn't give me everything I need, I consider buying books to help. This preliminary research usually takes from one to three months. I won't use nearly all the information I gather, but hopefully, it will give me the knowledge to write intelligently.

However, when I begin writing the first draft, there will invariably be more research to do, and I will have to dig harder to find a missing piece of information I need. I also write with English through the Ages by Brohaugh sitting beside me. I use it to look up any questionable word to make sure it was in use during my time period. Of course, the farther back in time I go, the more restricted the vocabulary.

Historicals require more research than contemporaries, but I've yet to write any book that didn't require some research. Coming from a background in history and English, however, I don't mind the research. In fact, I often enjoy it.

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Luke's First Major Battle

After training in Tennessee, Luke engages in some skirmishes and small battles around the area in my new release, Uprooted by War. Here's what he writes to his wife Leah:

    We’ve been involved in some successful raids around eastern Tennessee. These are more like skirmishes than battles, and some not even that. I think the purpose is twofold—to destroy
some structures important to the Confederacy and to tie up some of the Rebels, so they won’t be available to help in other battles.
    Although we didn’t lose as many men, as we would have in a larger battle, it was still hard to see young soldiers ripped apart. There were casualties on both sides. If the raids we went on are any indication, I think the killing is going to be hard to get off my mind. A man can be alive and yelling one minute, and lying in a river of his own blood the next. It’s hard to hear bullets all around you and see someone beside you hit the ground to grow cold. Even with the enemy, I can’t help but think they too have families, hopes, and dreams.Many  of us serve the same God. How can we be killing each other?

Luke's first major battle comes at Antietam Creek, near Sharpsburg in Maryland on September 17, 1862. It would become known as the "bloodiest day" in the war. Here's how the battle looked to Luke:

    On the morning of September the seventeenth, Luke and the soldiers with him began to hear heavy firing all around at different times. Some of it seemed to be coming from the direction of Sharpsburg. They received orders they were to take a bridge over the lower part of Antietam Creek. Confederates almost surrounded it.
    They had four divisions of about 11,000 infantrymen, so they shouldn’t have had much trouble. From the start, however, things didn’t go well. For one thing, the usually jovial General Burnside’s mood turned foul. Rumor had it that McClellan chided him for moving too slowly when given orders, and McClellan had taken Hooker’s corps away from his command. In addition, General Cox seemed
to also be in charge, which meant they had two commanders over their corps—an unusual situation.
    Luke soon realized getting the troops across that fifty-foot bridge would not be as easy as it appeared. The nearby bluff hid Confederate troops, who were ready to fire down on the enemy. In addition, the Southern soldiers had about a dozen artillery pieces with them on the higher ground. Luke could hear intense firing from other locations and knew a major battle had begun.

    “Men,” an officer announced, “you will have plenty of reinforcements once we take that bridge.”
    Yet, the men didn’t move right away. Luke didn’t know what caused the delays. Finally, late in the morning, orders came to charge the bridge. Some of the officers took their men downstream and tried to ford the creek. The swift water made it difficult, and everyone who tried to cross met with gunfire. They were easily picked off in a slaughter. When the artillery shells hit the soldiers, everything exploded, and body parts flew in all directions. It seemed more like a bad dream.
    Tommy was one of the first ones hit. He took a direct hit from a shell and fell to pieces before Luke’s eyes. Luke didn’t let it register in his mind. He didn’t have time, because he had to shoot and stay alive himself.

    Most of the men Luke knew from Tennessee ended up fighting with a group of soldiers from Pennsylvania. Luke helped tear down a rail fence to use for cover. After a while, he also used the
stone wall, which ran near the creek. The bullets rained down all around. Luke had never encountered anything like it.
    Ronald Crowder fought beside Luke and took a bullet in the forehead. Luke saw it and noted how strange the perfectly round hole looked between the man’s eyes before it started gushing blood, but he kept fighting. He would grieve later.
    Together with the Fifty-First New York, Luke and the Pennsylvanians began to make headway. They eventually found themselves only twenty-five yards from the enemy. Their officer, Colonel Hartranft, yelled commands until he lost his voice. Around one o’clock, the Confederate fire lessened. A few men ran ahead and found the enemy had indeed retreated.

    They’d lost over five hundred men trying to take that bridge. There were bodies all around, and many more lay wounded. Still, they weren’t finished fighting. It took about two hours to get all the men across the bridge. All the blood made it so slick that it became almost impossible to walk across it without sliding down.

    Luke tried not to think about it or look down as he almost skated across. They were told they needed to advance, and their orders said to converge on Sharpsburg. Other divisions joined them, as the long lines of soldiers marched toward the town from the south. Luke thought of Shakespeare’s comment that the greater the danger, the greater the courage. That might not be true. He didn’t feel at all courageous right now. He felt sick and depressed. He rubbed the back of his neck as he marched, but the tension didn’t leave.
    Suddenly the Ninth Corps experienced the heaviest fighting yet, much worse than the bridge. Men were falling everywhere. Luke shot, reloaded, and shot some more. His rifle became hot
from the firing. He grew numb, but he continued to fight without thinking. Over and over again, he did what he’d drilled to do, what he had to do. The smoke from all the guns became so thick no one could see, and Luke’s eyes burned as if they were on fire too. Would this nightmare never end?

    When they’d lost about a fifth of their men, Burnside pulled them back. As he turned to leave, a bullet caught Luke in his upper left arm. He picked himself up and ran to catch up. The blood gushed out of his arm, but he couldn’t stop now. They retreated back to the bridge, but this time they took to the heights on the west bank. Luke sat down, too weak to do much more. Another soldier took a large handkerchief and tied it tightly around his arm to curb the bleeding.
    About twelve hours from when it had begun, the battle ended, although random shots still fired now and then. The moans of the dying filled the dusk. There’d been too many wounded and dead men to collect before dark. Night fell and the only men helped off the field were those who could get themselves up. In the morning, the removal of so many bodies would be a daunting task.

    The next morning, the two armies awoke across from each other. Between them lay an unimaginable number of bodies. No matter how Luke turned, he saw the same sickening scene. Some cadavers were already beginning to turn dark and smell. Smashed caissons, broken wheels, fallen cannons, and items from the soldiers were strewn everywhere. It looked like a mighty storm had hit. Luke later learned there’d been almost 23,000 Federal casualties and 12,000 Confederate ones. The Union had had nine generals killed. His mind couldn’t conceive it all. One in every four men in the battle had fallen. The battle had ended in a draw with neither side winning. Yet, as the gruesome details sank in, neither side wanted to resume the fighting. What a waste!

(All my profits from my books go to a scholarship fund for missionary children.) 

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