Tom Huggler’s The Woman She Left Behind is exactly what historical fiction ought to be. A mature novel for the intelligent reader. It’s a powerful story of human desires and connections in a historical setting that’s rendered with loving attention to small details as well as the overall feel of the era. So you read it because you care what happens to the characters, and the history lesson is a valuable added bonus.
It’s early 1862, a critical time in the western theater of the American Civil War. Widowed farm woman Rachel Barnum of south central Michigan gets a telegram that her elder son, Dwight, is ill and languishing in a Union Army hospital camp after fighting at New Madrid, Missouri. Alone, in the sketchy weather of early spring, she sets out in her farm wagon behind a pair of draft horses, headed for Cairo, Illinois—the nearest Army installation to her son’s location.
Her trusted hired man, John Welch, pleads with her not to go: let him, an experienced man, make the trip on her behalf. But Rachel is determined to bring her firstborn, who may be dying, everything a mother’s care can do. She leaves her younger son and two teenage daughters in Welch’s care. A woman alone, driving into a battle zone, she faces bad roads, rudimentary accommodations, uncertain riverboats, and the hazards of war.
Readers will understand the urgency of Rachel’s quest and sympathize with her struggles. Huggler’s sure-handed narrative follows Rachel through frustrating delays and maddening obstructions as she seeks her wounded son.
The story is a fictional interpretation of a very real journey by an actual Michigander named Rachel Barnum. At the end of the fictional narrative is a long, informative author’s note in which Huggler tells about the process of researching Rachel’s story and converting it to a novel. Huggler tells of his own 21st-century journey across the same landscape Rachel traversed more than 150 years ago. It’s a great piece of travel writing appended to a wonderful historical novel. The author’s note alone is worth the price of the book.
Huggler
Tom Huggler is a seasoned writer of nonfiction, former president of the Outdoor Writers Association of America, with many books and articles in the woodsy vein to his credit. His first book was a conservation novel for young readers, and now after a long career he returns to fiction with Rachel’s story.
It’s a story everyone should read, a great Christmas gift for any historical fiction reader you may know. Highly recommended by Your New Favorite Writer.
How do you like the cover? Send me a comment and let me know.
The new edition of my American historical epic, The Price of Passage. Publication date: Early 2025.
The original edition had a “conceptual” cover showing a railroad track and a chain (to represent slavery) bursting in two. Conceptually, you see, it’s a book about journeys that end in liberation.
But they are journeys of three specific characters: Norwegian immigrants Anders and Maria, and the runaway slave Daniel.
The new cover, by Rony, shows prospecive buyers who this book is about, and the rural setting in which it occurs. We wanted to give readers a clue to what kind of story they would be reading. Hope you like it.
“Reflections” is the name of this blog. It is also the name of Your New Favorite Writer’s “author newsletter.”
In fact, the two are one. If you got here by surfing the Web and you found this site, you are reading my blog. If it arrived in your inbox, because you signed up, then you are reading my newsletter. It is the same content, only delivered by email, so you don’t have to search the Internet to find it.
If you have not yet done so, please sign up for the newsletter version, using the “Share My Journey” box at right. You’ll be glad you did.
The tagline of “Reflections”—whether you call it a blog or a newsletter—is “Seeking fresh meanings in our common past.” That’s all I write about.
In the pages of the blog/newsletter, this search for the links between present and past ranges over a vast field of ruminations. But every post has something to do with present and past. I like to think of “Reflections” as “Miscellany with a purpose.”
That purpose, simply put, is to offer us all, on a weekly basis, a fresh dash of historical perspective, from any source.
This being a newsletter and all, I really ought to share some news. Mostly what I share is random thoughts and woolgatherings. I do hope you enjoy them, but it’s necessary from time to time to toot my own horn—self-promotion being a solemn duty of the Literary Lion. That’s what I mean by “sharing news.”
You may recall that in August 2022 I published—or rather, DX Varos Publishing, Inc., published—my first novel, a compelling work of historical fiction calledPrice of Passage: A Tale of Immigration and Liberation. Since then I’ve been living the life of a published author.
It’s a life filled with glory in lieu of monetary rewards. I call it “living the dream.”
A kink appeared in the dream last July when Dan Willis, the guiding genius behind DX Varos Publishing, died unexpectedly. Without Dan’s sacrificial levels of one-man input, the corporation is failing to thrive. I have been forced to reclaim my rights in Price of Passage, meaning DX Varos will no longer publish it. There is hope, however, that a new edition will be published.
And What of Izzy?
You may also recall that I wrote a middle-grades novel, Izzy Strikes Gold!, about a twelve-year-old boy in 1957. It won the hearts of my grandson’s fifth-grade classmates and teachers when I read it aloud to them over several weeks last year. I am proud to announce, if I have not already done so, that HenschelHAUS Publishing, Inc., of Milwaukee, will publishIzzy Strikes Gold!later this year. When the publication date is set and pre-orders can be taken, I’ll announce that here.
It happens that HenschelHAUS is also interested in republishing Price of Passage, with a new cover and new subtitle. I think it’s okay to mention that here, although a contract has not yet been inked.
Work in Progress
“So, New Favorite Author, what have you done for us lately?”
I’m working hammer and tongs on a new adult historical novel about two brothers who are at odds with each other when World War II separates them. It’s the most ambitious project I’ve tackled yet, and it’s going slowly. But I’m deeply wrapped up in it. When it is finished, it will have been worth the wait.
The reason the writing goes slowly is that my brain works slowly. That’s all there is to it.
The advice of many authors is, “When writing your first draft, just write flat out. Get it down on paper as fast as you can. Don’t stop to fix anything, you can do that later.”
That’s all right for them, but I’m me.
Having written a couple of good novels, I know my process and how it works. Writing a first draft, I often follow my instincts down a blind alley. I paint myself into corners. I set up situations I cannot plot my way out of. As soon as I get a glimmer that I’m doing that, I need—absolutely need, Dear Reader—to go back to where I went wrong and find a new angle of attack. This is an essential part of the process.
Usually what saves me is research. I learn something completely unexpected while researching to verify particulars of the plot. For example, does such-and-such work in 1937?
U.S.S. Colorado, 1932.
I found out that when one of my two heroes in the new book, a Naval ROTC cadet, took a summer training cruise on the battleship Colorado, he would have unexpectedly been called to take part in the wide-ranging search for the lost aviator Amelia Earhart.
Amelia Earhart in 1937. Public Domain.
Amelia is still lost; but it excites me to find real facts of that kind that my story can tie into. It inspires me to invent new plot points. Nuggets of historical reality give me little pegs on which to hang a compelling story.
But working everything out, and narrating it in the right direction and at the right pace, takes a lot of time and effort.
So stay tuned, Gentle Reader. My entire career as a Literary Lion is a work in progress. You can’t know how glad I am to have you along for the ride.
After months spent acclimatizing on the lower slopes . . . and further months reddening my corpuscles at a lofty base camp . . . I am now poised for the final assault. Scaling the steep Volume III to its summit, Your New Favorite Writer will become one of five or six living human beings to have read Kristin Lavransdatter, the Norse epic by Sigrid Undset. I may even become the only person since the War to have read it in English translation.
This is no mean feat, Dear Reader. I have been working at it, on and off, for years.
Once achieved, it will be the obscurest feather in my literary cap. But it portends; for Kristin Lavransdatter is so pure in its essence, so majestic in concept, that the Swedish Academy awarded Ms. Undset—an inscrutable saga all by herself—the 1928 Nobel Prize for Literature.
Sigrid Undset working at Bjerkebæk in Lillhammer, Norway. Photo by Alvilde Torp. Public Domain.
Perhaps this would be of little interest to you, Gentle Reader, were it not for your secret yearning to use Kristin Lavransdatter as esoteric chatter at cocktail parties. Yet the obstacles, till now, have been great.
Happily, I can give you the essentials, free of charge, thus sparing you the considerable pains I myself have endured in the conquest. Don’t mention it. Glad to do it.
#
Herewith, then, Kristin Lavransdatter:
To begin with, Marley was dead. Whoops, wrong story. Let me try again.
Kristin Lavransdatter was a little girl living in the days when Norwegians were starting to take up bishops and, with some reluctance, leave off dragons. Those were also the days when your last name told who your father was.
Lavrans Olivierssøn in bronze. No copyright.
Kristin’s father was named Lavrans, the Norsk equivalent of Lawrence or Laurence. Had he been Lavrans Olivierssøn, perhaps he would have been a great Shakesperian actor. However, Shakespeare had not been born yet, and Lavrans was actually Lavrans Bjørgulfssøn. He had to settle for being a wealthy Norwegian landowner. But I digress.
Lavrans’s daughter, Kristin, was a beautiful, beguiling, and willful child. Her beauty, guile, and willfulness were sufficient to require three volumes of dense Norwegian prose which, when translated into English, does not make any sense.
But bear in mind, it is Nobel prize material. Or it was, ninety-five years ago.
Kristin had a number of childhood adventures which firmed up in her mind the predicament of being a beautiful young maiden enmeshed in the aristocratic life of fourteenth-century Norway—which was mostly a succession of idylls in upland meadows, snowy forests, and scree-covered mountain slopes. As she grew into a gorgeous teenager, she was stupefyingly bored and thus fell in love with the raffish, error-prone Erlend Nikulaussøn.
Actor Gard Skagestad as the raffish Erlend.
Now, here is a curious point to ponder, Fair Reader: Kristin was the loveliest creature in all Gudbrandsdal, which is saying something; for those dales are filled with lovely Norwegian creatures. My point is, she could have had her choice among all sorts of wonderful husbands and good providers—many with great ancestral lands of their own. So who did she take up with but Erlend Nikulaussøn—a man acknowledged by all to be capable and charming, but then everybody also knew he couldn’t keep his head on straight.
It was the stuff of which good soap operas are made. Once Kristin and Erlend did the deed, of course she got pregnant, and her wise old father, Lavrans Bjørgulfssøn, swallowed his pride and gave her hand in marriage to this bounder, Erlend, from Trøndelag.
The remaining two-and-a-half books explore in a charming, rustic way, every nook and cranny of the consequences flowing from that first-act mistake.
Somewhere in the second book author Undset lets slip that Erlend—tired of the routine tasks of a wealthy landholder married to a beautiful, beguiling, and willful woman—has been dabbling in politics. Medieval Norwegian politics, that is, of the kind that may cost a man his head if the legal king finds out about it. Well, that fact, of course, adds to Kristin’s trials.
All through this endless parade of elephantine, Erlendesque blunders, Kristin keeps her cool. She scrupulously refrains from criticizing her husband on the principle that—well, I’m not quite sure what the principle is, but at any rate it prevents her giving him any good advice. Which is too bad, because he sure could use some.
You get the drift. I am sure you do, Dear Reader, since you are among the sharper knives in the drawer.
Kristin Lavransdatter exemplifies the best traditions of confused medieval nobles and gives us—what exactly does it give us? An enduring chronicle, shall we say, and let it go at that.
If, in the course of finishing Volume III, I discover anything heart-stoppingly new and unexpected, I’ll be sure to let you know.
In the meantime, should you wish to begin your own ascent into post-Viking Norsk literature, just email me, including your postal address. I’ll send you the first two volumes, like new except for the very occasional ketchup stain.
Dear Reader: This is a Friday Reprise of material originally posted on 28 May 2019. It’s amusing to read it now, because when this was written, I thought the book was done. I had no idea! At any rate, hope you enjoy the retrospective.
Three and a half years ago, in January 2016, I retired from other pursuits so I could try to write fictional stories that other people would like to read.
After a few small success with short stories, I got the idea to write a historical novel based on my ancestors Anders Gunstensen and Maria Nybro, who came to Illinois from Norway in the 1850s. We had scant information about their lives—a few dates, places, and milestones—not much more. Not enough real knowledge to support a detailed, book-length factual account of their lives—even if I had wanted to write one. But what I actually wanted was to use the bare facts as a framework on which to hang a made-up story, through which we might discover the world in which they lived.
I spent more than six months on the trail of Anders and Maria. I struggled to imagine a plot around the known and unearthed events of their lives that would make a good fictional story, yet would not much distort the known facts. At last, early in 2017, I began to write text.
Me writing.
The first draft of this novel, Freedom’s Purchase, took more than a year to write, at a steady rate of 1,500 to 2,000 words per week.This time also included research “on the fly” to support the detailed demands of particular scenes in the story.
My writing process is iterative. Contrary to what many great writers recommend, I invest a lot of time and effort, while laying down the first draft, in simultaneously revising passages already written. So by June 2018, when I finished the “first draft” of the novel, it was really anywhere between a fifth and a fifteenth draft, depending which part of the book you’re looking at.
I loved my book so much that I started to query agents, seeking a traditional publication contract. After nine months, I felt a bit stymied. At the UW-Madison Writers’ Institute in April 2019, I asked Laurie Scheer about this. She said, “How many agents have you queried so far?” I said, “Thirty or forty.” She guffawed. “Try three hundred!” she said.
Discouraged? On the contrary, I found myself reassured. The problem was not necessarily with my book; only that the literary market is tough to crack. However, that very reassurance gave me the freedom to consider the niggling little thought that if the manuscript itself were a bit better, that would make it easier for agents to see its merit. Perhaps a hundred fifty queries would be enough to do the trick!
My other friend in the UW Writers’ program, Christine DeSmet, read my first ten pages—the most important part of any book for making a first impression—and gave me very useful feedback. Her comments showed me how I could make the first chapter not a little better—rather, a whole lot better. So I did. But Christine also recommended dissecting the whole book scene by scene, then improving each scene as needed. I blanched at the thought. I decided to do it anyway.
Toward a Smashing Second Draft
I spent the whole next month just reading my book. I analyzed 159 separate scenes; I wrote down the overall purpose of each scene, its setting, its characters, their goals, their conflicts, the resolution of those conflicts, and the particular moments of dramatic change. This yielded an analytical document 54 pages long.
So now, I revisit each scene to fix the problems that have shown themselves through this process of analysis. A huge task. Yet, not enough.
After I work my way through a chapter of scenes, I do the next step, suggested by another friend, Tracey Gemmell, author of More or Less Annie, and other members of my Tuesday evening writers’ group. In Microsoft Word, I search for every “ly” in the chapter (many of these turn out to be adverbs); for every “ing” (present progressives, present participles, gerunds); for every “and,” “or,” and “but” (conjunctions); for every “is,” “are,” “was,” and “were” (verbs of being); for every “saw,” “heard,” “knew,” “felt,” “smelled,” and “tasted” (“filter” words). Then, I re-read the chapter in search of introductory time phrases or other introductory adverbial constructions.
That step is a lot of work, too.
Not that there is anything wrong with adverbs, a progressive verbs, passive constructions, conjunctions, or introductory adverbial expressions. All those things have their places in effective prose. But they can become crutches that allow us to write gimpy narrative, when overused. By considering each occurrence in isolation, one often finds a more vivid and robust way—a less distanced, less stand-offish way—to say what one meant to say. If you change even a quarter of those expressions to more powerful constructions, it’s worth the effort.
By the end of this process, I’ll have a book more worthy of readers’ time and attention. And, perhaps, a traditional publishing contract.
Stay tuned, dear readers.
Larry F. Sommers, Your New Favorite Author
Author of Price of Passage—A Tale of Immigration and Liberation.
Price of Passage
Norwegian Farmers and Fugitive Slaves in Pre-Civil War Illinois
In 1856, on the Illinois prairie, Norwegian farmers ANDERS and MARIA encounter DANIEL, a young fugitive slave. Will they do their legal duty by turning him in? Or will they break the laws of their new country and put their lives at risk to aid Daniel in his bid for freedom?
Peasant Farmers, by Julien Joseph. Public Domain.
That’s not really a story. It’s more like a situation, a setup. But it’s a start.
In historical fiction, an author wants to pay attention to the underlying morality of the situation. But you have to build on that. The story of Anders, Maria, and Daniel, as mentioned above, is incomplete without some sense of where Anders and Maria have come from, to be newly-arrived Scandinavian immigrants in central Illinois.
The Captive Slave, by John Philip Simpson. Public Domain.
One also ought to sketch Daniel more fully. What kind of slave life is he trying to escape from? What are his chances? What will he do with his new freedom, if he makes his escape good?
There are more questions than answers.
John Brown.
It’s notable that Anders, Maria, and Daniel all arrived at the same place in 1856—just when the nation’s quarrel over slavery was starting to come to a head. John Brown was murdering pro-slavery men in Kansas about this time. The Dred Scott decision, which gave iron force to the 1850 Fugitive Slave Law, would come along in early 1857. Lincoln and Douglas would contest for the Illinois Senate seat in a series of debates in 1858. Brown would show up again, this time raiding the federal arsenal at Harpers Ferry, in 1859. The pot was coming to a boil.
How would these events affect Anders? Maria? Daniel?
It’s all there in Price of Passage—A Tale of Immmigration and Liberation, coming August 23 from DX Varos Publishing.
Sign up for my free newsletter, The Haphazard Times, above right, to be kept fully informed.
Blessings,
Larry F. Sommers, Your New Favorite Writer
Author of Price of Passage—A Tale of Immigration and Liberation.
Price of Passage
Norwegian Farmers and Fugitive Slaves in Pre-Civil War Illinois
A sweet little secret of the Lit Biz—which I am about to let you in on, Dear Reader—is this:
After giving months, or maybe years, of your life to writing an 80,000-word novel, you must then tell the story again, accurately and with zing!, in one page.
That’s only if you want anyone to have a chance to read it.
“What, one page?” I hear you cry. “Dear New Favorite Writer, that’s hardly possible.”
The situation is not quite as bad as it seems. You can single space.
Why Is this Trip Necessary?
Agents, editors, and publishers want to see a one-page synopsis to decide whether there is any point in reading your whole manuscript. An agent or independent publisher receives a thousand or more queries a year—a query being a proffer of a new fiction manuscript the author hopes will get the green light for a traditional publishing contract.
The agent or publisher can represent, or publish, only a handful of titles a year. A dozen, or two dozen, perhaps. So barriers are built, like the steep waterfalls and boiling fish-ladders of the Pacific Northwest that keep all but the strongest of salmon from reaching their spawning grounds and scoring the Darwinian reward of posterity.
Salmon try to leap a waterfall. Photo by Marvina Munch, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. Public Domain
The Synopsis
The synopsis is one of those barriers. Does it tell the whole story? Does it tell the story clearly? Is the story interesting? If not, fuhgeddaboudit.
Unlike the marketing blurb on the back cover of the book, which will give enticing hints of the story while gingerly avoiding spoilers, the synopsis—meant for publishing industry eyes only— must reveal the whole plot, including the ending. If it does the job well enough, the author’s reward is a request from the agent or publisher to send the full manuscript for review.
Thus, you have made it over the first waterfall on your way upstream. The next waterfall is steeper. After they read the whole manuscript, they may pass. But at least your synopsis has earned you a chance at success.
Which brings us back to the impossibility of writing your whole novel in one page. But trying to do so is actually a valuable exercise. An amazing number of characters, phrases, and plot twists must be left on the cutting room floor. What remain are only the real essentials, connected causally in whole different way from what the meandering course of the book itself required.
Izzy’s Novel
Now, Gentle Reader, I’m going to do something that’s almost never done. I’m going to give you a peek at the one-page synopsis of my new middle-grade novel about a boy named Izzy Mahler. You will see it before any agent or publisher sees it.
WARNING: If you hope to read the book after it is published, if your memory for plot details is good, and if you can’t stand reading a story when you know what’s going to happen, AVERT YOUR EYES NOW.
For those who remain, here is the synopsis, preceded by a one-sentence logline.
Synopsis
In 1957 Illinois, class runt Izzy Mahler just wants to become a regular kid as the world falls apart around him—but can he shield America from Sputnik, and will a secret gold mine save his struggling family?
It’s 1957. IZZY MAHLER, 12, youngest and smallest of eighth-graders in Plumb, Illinois, longs to be respected as a regular kid, not battered by bullies like LYLE HAYCOCK,13. Izzy and fellow Space Patrol afficionado COLLUM GUNDERSON, 14, find a shiny gold rock in the woods near their homes on Wry Lane. Collum swears Izzy to secrecy, because the discovery is their special thing, which Collum’s three half-brothers must not share. Emerging from the woods, they meet IRMA RUGER, 12—Izzy’s third-grade flame. Izzy keeps mum, the gold rock safe in his pocket. But the secrecy irks Izzy. If the gold is real, it could save his parents’ marriage, which is foundering over money. He visits the public library to learn about gold, but all he garners is a couple of cool space travel books. On his way home from the library, he inadvertently goads the MORIARTY BROTHERS into a baseball game: Court Street versus Wry Lane, to be played in two weeks. Izzy recruits players for the Wry Lane team, filling out the roster with physically impaired and oddly-named MUTT-MUTT CORNER.
Izzy’s underemployed DAD, a war veteran with a science degree, goes into a part-time upholstery business with PATCH PAGELKOPF, a wise old jack-of-all-trades. Izzy interrogates a pawnbroker and learns that even a little gold is worth a lot of money. But he prays Dad’s extra cash from the upholstery sideline, on top of his night-shift job at a glass bottle factory will be enough to keep the family together, so Izzy can keep the gold secret. Time comes for the Big Game: Lyle Haycock, playing for Court Street, shoves and harries Izzy mercilessly. The fey Mutt-mutt Corner makes an oddball play to win the game for Wry Lane, closing out Izzy’s summer on a high note. In the fall, heart-stopping Irma Ruger is once more a schoolmate, adding spice to life. Things are going swell!
Sputnik. NASA photo. Public Domain.
But the glass factory lays off the midnight shift. As Izzy’s family reels from Dad’s job loss, the Russians launch SPUTNIK, the first man-made satellite—which Izzy, furious, takes as a personal insult. Now suddenly, America wants young scientists. Izzy can easily see himself as a space opera hero. He and Collum, advancing America’s space program, launch a skyrocket over the local brickyard, but a night watchman calls the cops and the boys must flee through the woods. With his parents’ marriage on the rocks again, Dad vanishes. Izzy wonders whether he’ll come back. At a science expo for young students, Izzy learns that Irma has a brighter future in science than he. MOM tries to explain to Izzy that Dad was damaged by combat, but try as he might, Izzy cannot picture Dad as a war hero.
Dad comes home. He’s been up North and landed a new job that will make use of his science degree. Seems Dad’s wedding ring is all the gold the family needs. But Mom, Izzy, and kid sister CHRISTINE must move to Pikeport, Wisconsin—Dad’s new work site, after Christmas. Izzy is devastated. Just when he is fitting into kid society in Plumb, he gets yanked away. Walking home from the town’s Christmas pageant, Izzy ponders his improved status as a kid among kids. Lyle Haycock waylays him and starts a fight, which becomes a conversation—one in which Izzy learns the facts of life in a truly broken family. Only Dad’s new job up North can spare Izzy from sharing Lyle’s crummy fate. After Christmas, the Mahlers move to Pikeport. On their way out of town, Izzy gives his new baseball glove to Mutt-mutt Corner, wishing him a good 1958 season. Up North, Pikeport is a hard place to adjust to, but Izzy finds a couple of new friends. His morale improves when America finally manages a successful launch of its own satellite in January 1958.
#
There you have it, Dear Reader—my latest book, soon to join the crowd of manuscripts battering their way upstream in the world of publishing.
When it comes out in paperback, do yourself a favor and read it. Especially because of all the ’50s reminiscences included, it’s a fun book for grown-ups as well as kids.
Blessings,
Larry F. Sommers, Your New Favorite Writer
Author of Price of Passage—A Tale of Immigration and Liberation.
Price of Passage
Norwegian Farmers and Fugitive Slaves in Pre-Civil War Illinois
Gunsten Gundersen was the schoolmaster for the seacoast village of Øiestad, Norway. Christian Conradsen Nybro was a boat builder in that same small town.
The schoolmaster’s second son, Anders Gunstensen, and the boat builder’s eldest daughter, Johanne-Marie Elisabeth Nybro, married in Menard County, Illinois, in 1855.
Your New Favorite Writer is a great-great-grandson of those two Norwegian pioneers.
Two little Norwegians: Grandma Sommers, left, and her sister Mabel, ages 5 and 3.
Nordmann Unawares
People in our family do not seem to believe that much is worth mentioning. I was a full-grown adult before my father thought to inform me that his mother—my Grandma Sommers— came from “Norwegian people down around Springfield.” This abrupt onset of Norwegian-ness took me by surprise.
But it was welcome news. Norwegians, of any sort, had to be more interesting than the rest of my relations.
With no clue what it meant to be a Nordmann, or how to be one, I joined the Sons of Norway to check it out. SoN lodge meetings and lutefisk dinners soon confirmed my ignorance. There was no doubt my blood flowed from the north. But my Norwegiosity was several quarts low.
I had grown up as a plain American. None of my kin spoke Norsk. My mom did not bake sand bakkels at Christmas. I envied my Nordic friends their silver-clasped, richly patterned Marius sweaters but did not invest the four hundred dollars to buy one for myself.
#
Years went by.
A Brief Essay
My wife, Joelle, qualified for a Sons of Norway genealogy badge by tracing my family tree. The final requirement was a brief biography of a Norwegian ancestor. Since Anders Gunstensen was my ancestor and not Joelle’s, she made me write the essay.
“Yes, Dear,” I mumbled. The project would be a distraction. I was focused on writing fiction. She was asking me to pivot and write two pages of nonfiction about my great-great-grandfather.
Cornered, with no way out, I glanced at the information Joelle had dug up. The more I read, the more I marveled. Anders emigrated to America in 1853 on the sailing brig Victoria, departing Arendal, Norway, in early February and landing at the end of March in . . . New Orleans.
Curiouser and Curiouser
New Orleans? Are you kidding me? Norwegians sail to New York, don’t they?
Not all of them. Anders didn’t. And after passing through New Orleans, he settled in Menard County, Illinois, near Springfield.
Wait a minute. Norwegians live up north—Wisconsin, Minnesota—don’t they?
Not all of them. Anders didn’t.
Two years after reaching America, he married Johanne-Marie Nybro, a Norwegian girl. Compatriots in a strange land they seemed, drawn together by a common language and culture.
But hold on, now. Anders and Johanne-Marie were not chance acquaintances. They came from the same hometown. She was the boat builder’s daughter, he the schoolmaster’s son. The village was only a few hundred people. Everybody went to the same church. Anders and Maria must have known each other all their lives.
Was There a Plan?
So, why didn’t they get married in Norway and then emigrate as a couple? They shipped separately, for some unknown reason. Maybe they had a pre-set plan to marry after arriving in the United States? Hmm. Unlikely. More likely, the decision to wed was made only later, after they reached America.
But unless they were planning as a couple, why would both be drawn to the same small county in Illinois? Old microfilms in the Wisconsin State Historical Society Library disclosed that Johanne-Marie’s cousin Gunder Jørgen Nybro had already settled in Menard County in 1850. Gunder Jørgen must have written home in praise of his place of settlement. Such a letter would be passed around, even read aloud at public gatherings. Everybody in Øiestad must have known, from Gunder Jørgen’s letter, that Menard County was THE place to go.
Anders, by the way, sailed from Norway February 9, the very day after his passport was granted. He did not wait for spring or summer, when the North Atlantic would be in a more friendly mood. It seemed to me that Anders left Norway in a big fat hurry.
Fact Into Fiction?
Our Sons of Norway genealogy badge.
Still mumbling, I wrote the two-page biographical essay, which posed more questions than it answered, and we earned the lovely three-level badge for Norwegian genealogy. But the project left me frustrated, with open spaces in my ancestors’ biographies that likely would never be filled.
The obvious next move was to make up the answers and thereby convert my ancestors’ story to a fictionalized account. A historical novel.
The image of a footloose, 23-year-old Norwegian stepping ashore in 1853 New Orleans was irresistible. Anders the Nordic farm hand meets the lush warmth of a Louisiana spring. He sniffs fecund and beguiling odors, hears a polyglot of strange tongues, and sees a mix of people—rich, poor, merchants, townspeople. White, black, and brown. Some are free while others are slaves. Some, rich planters, have come to town to buy slaves, whom they regard as livestock.
The New Orleans wharf in 1853, painting by Hippolyte Sebron. Public Domain.
The Question of Slavery
What would Anders have thought of slavery? America’s Peculiar Institution was an enigma to Norwegians. Scandinavian immigrants in general disapproved of slavery.
And purely from the standpoint of fiction: If this is going to be a historical novel with Anders as hero, of course he opposes slavery! Having gotten an eyeful of the slave trade during his sojourn in New Orleans, he would have been revolted.
Would he have left slavery behind when he traveled to make his home in Illinois? Not by a long shot, Gentle Reader.
The Prairie State swarmed with runaway slaves from Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, and points south. Chasing the slaves were slave catchers—bounty hunters empowered by the Fugitive Slave Law to capture slaves, even on “free” soil, and return them to their owners. As a settler in 1850s Illinois, would Anders not have met freedom-seeking slaves and their hunters?
Ole Rolvaag’s Giants in the Earth and Vilhelm Moberg’s The Emigrants were trail-blazing novels of Scandinavian immigration, and Laura Ingalls Wilder sketched the lives of prairie sodbusters. A new book along these lines could hardly add anything.
But what if Anders and Johanne-Marie became abolitionists and Underground Railroad agents? “Norwegian immigrants aid enslaved African Americans.” That would be something new.
“You gotta lotta nerve”
How plausible is the premise? Did any Norwegian-Americans help fugitive slaves through the Underground Railroad? Alas, Dear Reader, I have not found any examples.
But consider:
Norwegian immigrants were anti-slavery activists. A Norsk immigrant named Even Heg and his son Hans Christian collaborated with other Norwegians to publish Nordlyset (The Northern Light), a Norsk newspaper that was an organ of the Free Soil Party, pushing freedom for slaves.
Central Illinois, where Anders and Johanne-Marie settled, hosted plenty of Underground Railroad operations. At least nine sites in Menard County were stations or otherwise associated with Underground Railroad activity.
Norwegians in central Illinois, with no native-language press or other Scandinavian institutions, had to learn the English language and American ways quickly. Would not Anders have cultivated American mentors? Could those mentors be station agents for the Underground Railroad? Of course they could.
The factual, historical Anders, like thousands of Norwegians and other immigrants, joined the Union Army when war came. Not all Union soldiers were abolitionists, but some were. Anti-slavery principles must have been part of Anders’s decision to fight.
It is not at all far-fetched to imagine Norwegian farmers in the antislavery struggle. The Underground Railroad was an illegal clandestine movement, most of its operations conducted in secrecy. For that reason alone, its true facts will never be fully known by historians.
The point of a historical novel is not to narrate events that definitely happened. It is to tell a story that could have happened, by which the reader is entertained or informed.
A New Literary Work
So I embarked on writing my first novel, Freedom’s Purchase. Five years later, it is greatly improved and bears a new title: The Maelstrom. Johanne-Marie’s name has been shortened to the less tongue-twisting Maria. A few facts of family history have also been altered for the plot.
Most importantly, the antislavery theme, first conceived as merely one aspect of Anders’s and Maria’s struggle to adapt to life in America, took on a life of its own and became the main conflict of the book. The invented character Daniel, a runaway slave, came to embody in some way the whole institution of slavery. Thus The Maelstrom gives equal weight to the separate stories of Anders, Maria, and Daniel. It is a braided narrative of three interwoven strands.
Yet this book also is a dialogue between two different experiences of life—the immigrant experience of Anders and Maria, and the enslaved experience of Daniel and his friends. These two perspectives speak in ways that I hope are powerful, informative, and humane.
“But how dare you, a white American male, write a character like Daniel, representing the hopes and frustrations of black Americans whose lives you did not live?”
You may with equal logic inquire how I can write of Anders and Maria, whose life as nineteenth-century Scandinavian immigrant farmers was almost as remote to me as that of Daniel the slave.
The answer is the same in both cases: One can only do one’s best.
We have the right to invent stories. They need not be factual. We hope they may entertain, inform, and address something in our common humanity that readers will recognize as true.
Next Time: Daniel—A Plot Device Goes Rogue
Blessings,
Larry F. Sommers, Your New Favorite Writer
Author of Price of Passage—A Tale of Immigration and Liberation.
Price of Passage
Norwegian Farmers and Fugitive Slaves in Pre-Civil War Illinois
Update on the update: SINCE THIS POST WAS PUBLISHED, THE TITLE HAS BEEN CHANGED TO PRICE OF PASSAGE. THE BOOK HAS BEEN PUBLISHED AND IS AVAILABLE THROUGH DX VAROS PUBLISHING. SEE BELOW.
On July 20 in this space I mentioned the new direction taken in revision of my historical novel, formerly titled Freedom’s Purchase, now titled The Maelstrom.
I am happy to report that extensive revisions have been made, based on very helpful feedback by championship-level book coach Christine DeSmet. As a result, it’s a much more compelling and exciting book. Many thanks to Christine, a noted author and a great personal friend of mine for many years.
I am now polishing the polish, and before long the book will be again making the rounds to agents and publishers. I’m quite confident we’ll get a good publishing contract this time around.
So have patience! Before long, you’ll get to read the stories of Norwegian immigrants Anders and Maria, and Daniel the slave, in 19th-century America.
Blessings,
Larry F. Sommers, Your New Favorite Writer
Author of Price of Passage—A Tale of Immigration and Liberation.
Price of Passage
Norwegian Farmers and Fugitive Slaves in Pre-Civil War Illinois
Just over a month ago, I announced in this space that I was laying aside my historical novel Freedom’s Purchase for an indefinite time because of difficulty in reconciling two diverging story lines.
Soon after, I heard from my friend and champion Christine, who made a compelling case that it was possible to write a successful novel including this bifurcated plot. I took a deep breath, tried again, and lo! The successful rewrite is now complete. I am extremely satisfied.
I won’t tell you, Dear Reader, exactly what changes I made in the manuscript. I will tell you that it’s now a much more compelling read than the manuscript I was trying to sell as recently as a year ago. Some work remains to polish it, but I hope to begin marketing again in the near future.
What I can tell you is that is has a new title: The Maelstrom. And it is still the story of a Norwegian couple making their way in 1850s America and an African American slave in the deep South struggling for freedom and meaning.
Thanks for your patience. I heard recently the average time an author takes to complete a first novel is five years. So I’m right on schedule.
Note: Since this post was written, the book has found a publisher, undergone another title changed, and been published. You may buy it using the green button below.
Blessings,
Larry F. Sommers, Your New Favorite Writer
Author of Price of Passage—A Tale of Immigration and Liberation.
Price of Passage
Norwegian Farmers and Fugitive Slaves in Pre-Civil War Illinois
