Along with my daily assignments, I am also halfway through my next senior fiction novel and compiling my research for the next book in the U.S. Landmarks series with SmartKidzClub. I'm pretty close to my bandwidth, when out of the blue, I get inspired. Dang it.
Don't get me wrong. I love getting inspired, but it rarely happens when I get writer's block. Maybe it is all of the brain activity or maybe I'm starting to get overwhelmed. I tend to plan ahead and frontload myself with all of the things I need to do in the next 24-72 hours. Better early than late, right?
The important thing is that I take the time to write down these inspirations as they come. When I was proposing my U.S. Landmarks series, it was as easy as making a list of the places around the country that needed to be showcased. The senior fiction is an outline of six chapters with concepts or activities that I want to include. Even a sprinkling of reactions. That outline is very rough because I will add dialogue later, but I can at least get the web of events pieced together and determine how it will all end.
As I have been talking on the phone and email with my Queen of Brain Tangents (Mom), I know she can see that my urge to write about this new topic is out of the blue. It's like the idea that pops in your head when you are taking a shower or driving on your boring commute. Mine developed when I was walking the garbage can to the curb (it's a five-minute walk roundtrip). As I have been distracted by these ideas, I have come to the conclusion that I need more information. Long story short, I need to seek out a historian specific to this time period and location. Road block.
It leads me to believe that some of the most interesting stories are trapped in oral history. My story idea is one that belonged to my parents as they were growing up during World War II. They have their own experiences that they have shared over the years, but I finally figured out how I can take those memories and shape it into a piece of historical fiction for young adults.
Oh there are plenty of stories to tell. One that sticks in my mind is the fact that my history professor mentioned in class about German POW soldiers who were imprisoned in western Illinois. He told how they would get their daily exercise by crossing the bridge high over the Mississippi River and back. Genius way to prevent escapes, in my opinion. Did I know that there were German soldiers in the American Midwest? Of course not! Is it in books or as an easy Google search? Not where I have looked. My skills as a history minor failed me. I knew of something to the effect from the youth novel The Summer of My German Soldier, but never did I think that POWs were so close to home.
The Internet is only as good as the keywords we input. Our minds are only as broad as the information we process. We are the archaeologists and anthropologists responsible for keeping some of these stories alive. Even if you can save a few of those family stories, you may see that they are not rambling tangents, but a way of life, an experience, or just a thought that should not be lost.
My mind is made up
and the message is clear;
I must write a new story,
one hidden in yesteryear.
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