I don’t have to look far for inspiration for my Appalachian novels. Most of the members of my family are storytellers and they have plenty of stories to tell. Last weekend we loaded up in the car and drove around French Creek just so I could refresh my senses with the place I try to bring to life in my novels.
When I took this picture of Raccoon Rock, Dad reminded me of the family story that goes along with it. When one of his aunts was a young woman her brother made her an offer–if she spent the night in a small cave halfway up the rock, he’d buy her enough silk to make a dress. She did–and took her baby with her. But the brother only bought her cotton, not silk.
That’s a pretty good story right there. But imagine what more there might be:
- Danger–mountain lions were rumored to roam those woods back then (still are!). It took a brave woman–or one desperate for a new dress–to take up this challenge.
- The Baby–why take the baby? Did her husband refuse to keep it? Could she find no one else? Or did she selfishly want the company?
- The Silk–why did the brother fail to supply silk? Did he not have the money? Could he not find silk? Did she turn practical and ask for cotton instead?
- Setting–was it dark that night? Or maybe there was a full moon. Did a painter scream in the night? Was she afraid? Or did she sleep soundly without a snoring husband by her side? Was it warm? Or did she catch a chill? Might she have built a small fire?
The possibilities are endless! And what fun to take this kernel of a story and nurse it into a full fledged tale or maybe weave it into a novel. While I’d love to know more about the facts of this story, I’ll confess it’s pure pleasure to build upon. And there, I think, is the root of writing for me. I write because I want to know how the story goes–even if I have to make it up as I go along.
I think she took the baby because she was nursing. No one else can do that for you! And of course a little warm bundle would be nice in a cold cave. But it is interesting that she would risk herself and the babe for some silk!
Here’s a story for you–our little church was destroyed by a “cyclone” in 1899. One version has it blown from the top of the hill where it was first built to the bottom of the hill where it now stands. Newspaper reports, however, tell of the building being torn apart, and the debris being strewn all over the neighborhood, and especially at the bottom of the hill. Here’s the best detail–all the Bibles in the church were preserved, because they were all piled up together near the pulpit and a big piece of cloth fell over them and protected them. Do you like it? Can you use it? Is Roanoke in Appalachia?
Breastfeeding–of course!
I love it! And it just may show up somewhere along the line . . .
Love your ideas! Your picture turned out great, too!!
That was by far the most dramatic shot. The ones from the side are less impressive.
She took the dare because it fit the relationship with her brother and she was adventuresome to begin with. Took the baby because everyone breast fed in Appalachia then. Silk would have been very hard to come by in French Creek and he wasn’t expecting to have to buy it anyway. (I would rather sew with cotton than silk.) Dark and raining with all kinds of sounds! (Did the family story indicate the time of year?)
I love imagining “the rest of the story.”
Isn’t it a blast?!?
You should always carry a small tape recorder with you so you could catch unexpected stories at any time. You never knoow when you strike up a conversation with a stranger… what tidbit you might get! Just sayin. Aunt Pat
Great idea!
I’d have done that. But with Kid One, who was soooo quiet.
Somehow I’m not surprised . . .
Grandma’s version is a good bit different.
Tell it!