Road Trip

       

   And we’re off. Whether everyone’s piled in the car or in a mobile RV; whether it’s just you, or you and a friend riding bikes or motorcycles, taking a road trip is one of the greatest adventures you can have. If you mapped out your trip beforehand, did you leave time for unexpected stops? Did you plan to specifically stop at tourist attractions along the way to your destination? Whatever you plan, DO NOT get in the car, buckle up and not stop until you get to your destination.

            The very best road trips are those times you find unexpected treasures along the way. Sure, there are a whole lot of “The World’s Largest”…whatever. There are even towns that have very creatively turned themselves into a travel/tourist stop. One such place is Casey, Illinois, where throughout the town you will find the world’s largest golf tee, the world’s largest wind chimes, the world’s largest knitting needles (which actually work!), and the world’s largest rocking chair – all in one place!

            Yet the very best “finds” are sometimes “hidden in plain view”. Have you ever seen barn quilts while driving through the Midwest? What about a long, long row of fence with old cowboy boots upside-down on each of the fence posts? When we were kids traveling to grandma’s house in the summer, there were no interstates and we could find all sorts of things as we drove two lane highways. (Remember travel bingo?) Finding Burma Shave signs was always a great treat.

            One of the most intriguing finds recently was during a drive from Niagara Falls, Canada to Sudbury, Ontario, Canada. The highway was cut through rocky hills and suddenly we began seeing rock statues high along the tops of rock outcroppings. These weren’t carved out of rock, but were rather what looked like statues of people made out of rocks. We were seeing them from the ground and they were anywhere from a foot to more than eighteen inches tall. Further research when we had the time and we discovered they were “Inukshuk”, used by the Inuit in the north as directional markers. They are in the shape of a person to signify safety, hope and friendship. These stone sculptures were important for navigation, as a marker for hunting grounds, or possibly to denote a food cache. And we found them totally by accident!

             

Once upon a time I took a trip across Missouri into Kentucky to eventually end up in Tennessee. I loved the estates I saw in Kentucky, given romantic names such as “Misty Farms”. Large brick homes with tall white columns across the front were surrounded by white wooden fence, and many had green pastures full of thoroughbred horses. On the interstate, I drove by a uniquely built barn; so unique I pulled off the interstate at the next exit, turned across the overpass and returned the opposite way to get another look at the structure. Going the proper speed, I missed it again. The second time I exited the interstate, I took a back road and found a piece of history – an old tobacco barn with open slats on the sides and a totally unique interior. At that moment, I decided the rest of my trip would be made on back roads and two lane highways. As a writer, road trips such as this are invaluable for everything from collecting strange and unique names to use in my writing, to imagining scenes as real life slides by the windows.

             I’ve posted covers from two books this month – “Love in Disguise” and “Hold on to the Past” because both of these are about traveling. The first takes place along and aboard the first transcontinental railroad, and the second is about a trip on the Missouri River aboard the Steamboat Arabia. Both are great “road trip” stories of a different sort, full of mystery and romance and can easily be ordered at Amazon where you can also find my other books.

              Taking a road trip is something we can begin to do as we emerge from the pandemic because it doesn’t involve large groups of people in very public places. Fill up the car with gas, pack a lunch and head out along the back roads. Perhaps you’ll come across the fire-breathing dragon we did.

            Whatever you do, don't just read the billboard about the Drive-Through Safari. Take that exit!

Barb Baldwin

http://www.authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin

http://www.bookswelove.com/romance-authors/baldwin-barbara/

Water, Water Everywhere

Water, Water Everywhere

The sky darkened and with no more warning than a single roll of thunder, the rain began. It washed down the roof, overflowing the gutters and splattering through the screens to wet the bricks of the patio.

We quickly moved the seat cushions to the other side of the porch but I left one on a wicker chair. I love summer storms and wasn’t about to huddle inside. Rain continued hard enough to wash away the spilled charcoal dust from the grill where my birthday dinner had been cooked. The remnants of the party disappeared, but not the warm feelings of contentment I tucked away in my heart. 

The rain lessened then grew stronger again and yet the sun shone on a patch of green grass along the side of the house. Pitter-patter; drip-drip. You know what it sounds like running down the gutter pipes and dripping off the house. If it continues, I will sleep out on the porch tonight. I can’t hear the rain inside behind bricks and insulation. It reminds me of summers past, camping at the lake in a canvas tent. “Don’t touch the roof,” Dad admonished as it would make the canvas leak. Yet someone invariably would. If there wasn’t lightning, we’d play in the rain; even swim in the lake. After all, it was summer and we were at the lake to get wet.

Another round, coming hard enough to rush down the street like an overflowing river. A curtain, obscuring the trees across the way. The smell of rain. You can’t describe it but anyone else will understand exactly what you mean.

“Why are you out here?” my grandson asked.

“Writing about the rain.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s there.”

*************

I recently read a book about how water can make you happier, healthier and of a better frame of mind. While most of the book was more scientific than I could understand, the gist was that we need water in our lives. Not only to drink, but to be near, in, on or even under water. While I don’t live near a body of water, I realized how often water, in its various forms, plays an important part in my novels.

“Prelude and Promises” is set on a small island, thus surrounded by water. “Hold on to the Past” takes place on a river. “Spinning through Time” has a dramatic and tragic scene on a frozen pond. “A Game of Love”, set in Boston, has a close connection to the Boston Harbor. And the list goes on. 

I also love writing thunderstorms into my novels; water cutting rivulets down a dirt street; ominous cracks of thunder awakening my characters in the middle of a dark night. You don’t have to wait for the next time it rains to curl up with a copy of “Love in Disguise” and find out just how diverting the rain can be when it keeps Max and Abby from pursuing a killer. Find all my books on my website or through the Books We Love link below.

Best wishes for a wildly wet new year!

Barbara Baldwin

http://www.authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin

http://www.bookswelove.com/romance-authors/baldwin-barbara/

Finding a Hero

 

          

What better place to search for characters for my newest book project than a mall, where people of all shapes, sizes, colors and styles happily gather. Without interfering in their enjoyment, I can study and choose from thousands of character traits, personality flaws and secrets – free to the discriminating shopper.

            I’ve tried shopping at home with catalogs. It sometimes works for a minor character, but it’s hard to tell if I have a good fit without seeing the actual character in motion. All those idiosyncrasies that make my characters special come out in public – their walk, laugh, voice. Perhaps what I’m looking for is the way they hold their head, cling to a boy friend, or talk with their hands. Too much personality remains unnoticed on a still life, one-dimensional photograph in a catalog.

            So I settle down to window shop.

My first “purchase” is not your stereotypical hero. His belly’s a bit too large; his face beginning to show the first stages of age. Gray threads his hair and his laugh is a bit too loud. But he also has the nicest smile I can ever recall and the kindest blue eyes. His gentle gaze speaks of trust and honesty and I immediately realize I want him in my book. He will make the best “best friend” anyone can have.

I turn my head at the sound of male laughter. Cowboys. Are they real or wannabes? They lean against the railing and I study them as they study girls. I have my pick of sizes, the tallest being well over six foot. If I take a composite of the group, I just might have my hero. Let’s see – the glasses from the third guy; another's thick brown hair; and the tall one’s smile, his lips lifting a little higher on the right than the left.

I like the tall one’s attitude. As I watch, his face never changes expressions. He’s aloof, trying to look disinterested. His thumbs are hooked in the belt loops of his jeans; one boot crossed in front of the other. While his body language might indicate he’s bored with this activity and wants something more exciting, his eyes tell another story. Twinkling green, slight crinkles at the corners, they laugh and mock and never miss a thing.

As though one entity, they turn to follow a group of girls when they pass. Red-blooded, American boys to the core, but I’m still not sure I can use them, so I study their walks. Only one has the rolling gait of a cowboy—someone who actually spends time on a horse. It’s the tall one; the guy with laughter in his eyes and the crooked smile.

I watch them walk away, and he turns and touches his forehead as though tipping his hat. And then he winks at me.

Oh, yes, I definitely need a cowboy in this book.

Developing characters is such a fun part of writing a story. They soon take on a life of their own and often go in a direction I couldn’t have imagined. Charlie doesn't intend on becoming a cowboy when he visits Stone, South Dakota to research his next novel, but when he and Jacy accidently end up back in the 1800's, he finds he has the ability to live in the historic era and does what he must to become the hero Jacy needs. You can read more about Loving Charlie Forever on my website and I hope you grab a copy of this historical romance and get lost in Charlie's and Jacy's story.

Barbara Baldwin

www.authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin

           

I Love Carousels

From afar, she heard the music,

A slow waltz from another time.

And the horses danced to a tune

They could not hear.

The carousel spun round and round,

Painted horses galloped freely.

And magic wove a wondrous spell

Through the silvery night.

Proud heads held high, the horses pranced,

Chasing mystic sounds to the past.

Seeking a world of fantasy,

They lured her through time.

Yet when the music ended,

And the horses finally stopped.

The magic still coursed through her,

Love had found her heart.*

            Who doesn’t love a carousel? Beautifully painted horses and a menagerie of exotic animals, gaily circling ‘round to the sounds of a Wurlitzer organ. It is childhood and knightly fantasies; a secret rendezvous and a race to freedom.

            I have a collection of musical carousel horses, some of which go up and down as the music plays. Others are stationary, just as early carousels had been. Today, carousels are often at the hub of shopping malls and county fairs. I’ve visited the 1901 Parker carousel in Abilene, Kansas, the Central Park Carousel New York City, and the historic Flying Horses on Martha’s Vineyard, among others. I even had the opportunity to see a carousel factory where they made carousel-like horses which at one time decorated a famous national restaurant chain. The carousels are all different and unique and we are fortunate this piece of our history has been preserved.

            It was at the Flying Horses where I learned some of a carousel’s forgotten history. The horses on this particular carousel do not move up and down as the platform circles. The uniqueness of this carousel is that at one point there is a metal armature sticking out containing brass rings. As riders “gallop” by, they can grab for the rings, collecting them during the ride. The history of this particular activity dates back to medieval years and the jousts that were held. Besides trying to knock each other off horses, a knight would gallop down the course and try to snare a large ring onto his lance. Sometimes the rings were held by pages, other times they were thrown in the air as the knights rode near. Some believe this is also where the expression “catching the brass ring” came from.
           Not all carousels were horses or animals attached through a center pole to a moving platform. Swing rides, the earliest form of carousel, were made with ropes and baskets that carried people and spun in circles around a center pole. There are still swing rides today at fairgrounds that have chairs suspended by chains from the top of the carousel instead of seats shaped like animals.

Long before motorized platforms (as early as 1873) it has been noted that a live mule or a horse was hidden beneath the Carousel platform to power the amusement ride. The animals were taught to start and stop when the operator tapped on the floor.

            And then there is the restored Dentzel carousel found at State Fair Park in Dallas, Texas. Gustav Dentzel, a German furniture maker, lived in Philadelphia in the 1870s  and turned to carousel horse making when they became all the rage.

With all this history; the beauty and romance and my love of carousels, how could I help but write a story involving them?

My story involves professional photographer Jaci Eastman who photographs the Dentzel carousel for a magazine spread and finds a blurred image of a man in old fashioned dress behind one of the horses. She only believes reality can be photographed. So how can she photograph a man who doesn’t exist in her time beside a carousel horse that didn’t exist in his?

            Follow the romance and mystery of a carousel horse in “Spinning Through Time”, available through Books We Love or wherever you like to find your romance.


--”Gorgeous story, it was lovely from beginning to end. A keeper. One of the best time travel romances I've read!” SS, Amazon review



*Opening of “Spinning Through Time”

Best of Holiday Wishes

Somewhere around 22 years ago, I wrote my first Christmas story card called "The Christmas Quilt" for my sister, Priscilla, after she showed me a quilt top she had gotten at an auction. I wasn't a quilter, but when she said "I wonder about the person who made this -- who they were and what they did", well, I was hooked because I am the creator of those unknown  characters and worlds.

The next year, I wrote another short story, this one about a ghost who only appears on Christmas eve at an old antebellum mansion. And then came year three, and four and so on. Many times, I would brave the after Christmas Sales and find boxes of cards that I liked, or whose pictures immediately made me think of a story. Sometimes I even designed my own cards. I would print the story in booklet format to fit inside the card, thus making it a "story card." When I had written ten stories for family and friends, I asked my publisher about putting them all together, and with her help, we brought out Christmas Quilt Anthology. 

One of the stories in the original anthology is about a little coal mining town called Snow. The town captured my imagination, and I later wrote a short story based there which is included in a new anthology of romantic short stories called "Before Tomorrow Comes". I even designed a website for this fictitious town, giving it a history, store fronts, festivals, and "real" people. You can "visit" SNOW with the click of the mouse. 

And then, because I live in the wonderful world of writers where anything is possible, I began telling the residents' stories. "Always Believe", about 10-year-old Emma and her father when they settle in Snow, is a full length mainstream novel about friendship, miracles, and a search for Santa.  Check out this title and "IF Wishes Were Magic", my two holiday books on my Amazon author page. You can find other great romance there also!

Now for your Christmas present. "Before Tomorrow Comes" is an Amazon Exclusive and is being offered for FREE to kindle unlimited members. Not you? Well, it is being offered for FREE to EVERYONE on the next 3 Thursdays. That's December 13, 20, and 27!

Happiest of holidays to you and yours! Best Wishes, Barb

Being Thankful

                Reconnaissant

                Agradecido

                Kansha shite iru

                Buíoch

                Every language has a word for “thankful.” Since it’s November, I automatically thought to write about Thanksgiving, but realized not everyone celebrates that specific holiday. And when you stop to think about it, why do we celebrate being thankful on only one particular day of the year? It should be an everyday occurrence.

                Many of you are already nodding your head, because we do give thanks every single day. We’re thankful for our families, our jobs, our homes, our health. But have you ever thought about all the  totally unique, out of the ordinary things? Let me give you an example.

                I had the opportunity to travel to Paris this summer for a writing workshop and we visited Versailles one evening. While walking back up the path to the seating by the fountain, I bent over to catch my breath. (This is not a blog about how out of shape I am!) I saw a cell phone lying on the gravel. Since it was night time and the phone was black, I’m surprised I noticed it at all. I picked it up and tried to open it, hoping to call someone and tell them I had found a phone with their contact but the phone was either locked or the battery was dead. I would simply have to turn it in and hope someone checked with security. (Since my son had once left his phone on a restaurant table, I realized how hopeful someone was that this would be returned to them.)

                With a bright flash, the phone rang. I quickly swiped it and answered with a cherry “hello” only to have someone start chattering in French, of which I know “bonjour”.  I quickly gave it to our workshop director, who spoke fluent French. The end result was we left the phone with a security agent at a place the owner could easily find. No doubt that person was thankful for our help, but I was just as thankful that I had been able to help, just as someone had once done for my son.

                Out of the ordinary, uncommon things to be thankful for, and yet just as wonderful as the roof over my head. Every time I drive up to the house from a trip, and especially if it’s dark, I thank my parents and two sisters for watching over me and getting me home safely.

                As an author, I am thankful for the ability to put words together in such a way as to create a story. That may sound simple, but believe me, some days the words do not want to play together nicely! A completed novel leads to being very thankful to readers because your interest and reviews give my publisher faith in me and my next novel. So much so that my newest release featured here, “Prelude and Promises” is my 20^th full length novel!

                And speaking of, a huge thank you to Books We Love, who is having a BOGO until December 25^th. The link is http://bookswelove.net/bwl-holiday-special-free-books/ and it’s as simple as submitting a purchase receipt for a book from Books We Love.  

I challenge you to come up with the unusual for your daily thankful-ness. And if you want to share thankfulness with a stranger, next time you’re in a drive-through (Starbucks, McDonald's, etc), pay the bill for the person behind you. They won’t track you down but believe me, they will be thankful.           

Pebbles in a Shell

When I decided to enter the “Writing Contest: You are Enough” hosted by Positive Writer, I looked first at the essays about writing that I had created over the years. But I wanted something different. 

The glorious thing about being a creative writer is I can be as diverse as I want; go in any direction I like; and follow my dreams no matter where they lead. People read my writing and they may like it or they may not, but they can’t tell me that I’m wrong. Because I own it and that is enough. With that in mind, I offer you the following poem and observations.

Each wave comes, gently washing pebbles into a shell.

A heartbeat, and the water recedes,

 taking some pebbles but leaving others in their place.

These are the bits and pieces of our lives.

Some so fleeting as to be nothing more than grains of sand.

Yet each has been a part of us.

Each made a momentary stop to fill our hearts and souls with wonder.

The waves, like our lives, are ever changing, yet the shell holds steady.

Still gently cradling the pebbles within.

The times – the people – the events.

            Heartache and sadness; happiness and joy.

Excitement, achievement; setbacks and failings.

            Love, acceptance, trust and forgiveness --

     Ever open, the shell gathers pebbles that drift by,

whether they remain for a heartbeat or a lifetime.

And always there is room for more.

How does the above relate to writing?

Your creative efforts can be as small as a grain of sand, such as journaling or jotting down simple affirmations. You don’t have to start your writing career with a 400-page tome or an Oscar winning screen play. Maybe even a full length novel is more than you can handle right now. Don’t panic. If you put enough grains of sand together with a little heat and effort, you can make glass.

For example, the above started with the picture, taken at Provincetown, RI one summer. The picture led to writing the poem. The poem led to a full length novel called “Pebbles in a Shell”.

I have written several short stories for various anthologies which are now out of print so my rights were returned. Reviewing them one day, I decided to see if I could create full length fiction from some of them. One story became the basis of “A Game of Love” and another was the basis for “An Interlude”, just published this March. The others are being combined into a short story collection to be published in December. So what started out as small things became much larger things.

Looking at the above poem from the perspective of the shell, any of the pebbles in your life can be the start of a poem or story. Inspiration is everywhere. It can be a song, a road sign, a single word. For me, the simple act of sitting in a car wash or going through the drive-through at Starbucks both led to 3-page scenes in my current WIP.

Good creative writing doesn’t happen overnight and is by no means instantaneous. It’s a collection process, and like the pebbles, some of your writing will stay with you, some will be discarded, and more will come on the next wave. I started writing Christmas short-shorts over ten years ago. I made them into story cards for friends and family. When I had written ten of them (one a year), I asked my publisher if we could put them into a book. (Christmas Quilt Anthology.) If you collect enough pebbles, they can become something more. The most important thing to remember is that:

You don’t have to be a boulder.

You don’t even have to be a rock.
Being a pebble is enough…

By Barbara Baldwin

www.authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin
Author of numerous short stories and poems, 20 novels, and a documentary on state history.