I hope your holiday season has been grand. I know mine has been, but I am ready to put my house back in order and get down to business again.
And, yes, I took the week off the spend it with family. Time well spent. ((hugs))
Welcome to my 127th #Rainbowsnippets*. This one, as always, is uniquely mine, but there are lots of other great snippets to read so after you finish here click the FB link at the bottom of the post to discover other great LGBTQIA authors and their works.
I am now over 50% done with my edits on Striking Balance: The Peculiar Making of Beatrice Benjamin Sophia Scott Schnell Gow, a queer Historical Paranormal Fantasy set in, you guessed it, Appalachia. This Appalachia, however, is the frontier, and the story takes place during the Revolutionary War era and the time after, meaning the late 18th century. This explains the narrator’s voice. If you’ve read the letters and journals of the period, you’ll recognize it as reflective of those.
This week I’m picking up where I left off in Chapter One. The part in orange comes from last week’s post, Pluck a Chicken.
Yes, this goes over the six sentence limit, but this is so rich in history that I wanted to complete the paragraph. And make certain to read the tiny history lesson for a bit more enrichment.
Mary says Charity would not pluck a chicken to save herself from starvation, and I am certain this is true.
“Come on,” Conall calls to me, and I scurry down my ladder to stand beside him. We are the long and the short of Master Gow’s Nolichucky river flat farm, an affection Conall bestows on us whenever he has liberally imbibed from our supply of corn liquor. Sadly, there shan’t be much of that merriment until we return home, if at all this night. It shall depend on how badly Conall’s shoulder aches.
“Guess you’ll do.” He retrieves his long rifle, and I follow him out the cabin. I proudly own a firearm, the result of two years saved wages, but we are treading along the edge of our fields to Widow Alcott’s so I choose to leave it behind. No one molests or draws arms on us at the farm or when we travel short distances, which is strange when one considers that Dragging Canoe and his men are worrisome for everyone at present. But they have thus far left us and the Alcott’s farm unscathed.
Tiny History Lesson: Who was Dragging Canoe? He was the war chief for the Tsalagi (Cherokee) Chickamauga (AKA the “Lower Cherokees,” a group of Cherokees that removed from the greater tribes during the Revolutionary War) from 1777 to 1792. Striking Balance begins in 1779 when Dragging Canoe and his men were ending their defense of what had been Cherokee land and was now being settled by Europeans in favor of lands further south and toward Chattanooga. There are varying recounts as to what exactly occurred during this time (the clean prettily painted historical recounts, the probably more realistic nitty-gritty versions, and all version between) but there is something going on inside the story itself that is keeping Ben, Conall and, interestingly enough, the Alcotts, out of the fray. Context: Fort Watauga and Fort Lee, both regional settlements, had been burned out by the Chickamauga during the last few years and the Nolichucky river flats were a dangerous place to live from the late 18th century all the way until the late 19th century if not into the early 20th century.
*RainbowSnippets is a safe and welcoming space for LGBTQIA+ authors, readers, and bloggers to share 6 sentences each week from a work of fiction—published or in-progress—or a book recommendation. Feel free to join in.