My first book releases on Thursday, September 1. If, for some reason, you haven’t heard about The Dogtrot Christmas novella as part of A Log Cabin Christmas Collection, you can read about it here.
But where did I get the story and how?
I was given two parameters when I wrote The Dogtrot Christmas. Because it’s part of a Christmas collection, something in the story needed to touch on that holiday. In addition, a log cabin needed to play a major role.
Go.
Fortunately for me, I’m a genealogist and I merely had to reach into my family history to find an accessible log cabin story. Keziah (Kizzie) Hanks Colwell (or Caldwell?) wrote a diary as her family traveled from Maury County, Tennessee to eastern Texas in 1835. The wagon train was led by her father and my great-great-great-grandfather, the Reverend Thomas Hanks, a Primitive Baptist Circuit Riding minister.
Gladys Hanks Johnson, a researcher, saw Kizzie’s diary and took notes. Someone allegedly wrote a Master’s thesis on it.
(If anyone knows where I can find that diary, PLEASE contact me. I’ve been seeking it for years!)
Kizzie had quite a task ahead of her. Her sister died in childbirth shortly before they left Tennessee, meaning she had to nurse a newborn along with one of her own four children, manage the wagon, encourage her husband and follow her Dad. Not to mention write up her diary notes.
Once they got to east Texas, the family threw together a log cabin and they worked the land. Kizzie did the cooking, chinking, teaching, child tending and of course, tried to keep her nephew alive. One day she returned to the cabin to find the baby restless on the straw tick. When she looked a little closer, she saw a Native American‘s hand reaching between the unchinked logs, patting the baby on the back.
That scene made it into my story. 🙂
Another time, she was down at the creek, washing clothing. She looked up when the baby cried, to see him being swung by the foot. A Native American chattered at her in his unknown tongue and indicated a nearby tree. Laughing, he swung the baby’s head in the direction of the trunk. Kizzie threw down the clothes, shrieked and grabbed for the baby.
The Native American handed him back and then slunk away.
Lincoln Log Cabin State Historic Site, near Charleston, Illinois (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Of course that scene made into into my novella.
Those were the stories I had, along with the worried threat of panthers in the woods. How to make that into a log cabin Christmas story?
Rev. Thomas Hanks “had the first conversion” on the west side of the Brazos River. He had begun sneaking into Texas when it was still a Mexican state, baptizing, marrying and preaching to the English-speakers in the neighborhood, possibly as early as 1820. Another family story told of Hanks riding back to remarry all those illegal couples once Texas became a Republic.
One woman, ten hard years into a challenging marriage heard him out when he stopped by their claim and offered to marry them again, legally this time. She frowned and looked into the distance, finally saying, “Well, okay, Daddy Hanks. I’ll do it just because it’s you that’s doing the asking. But if I’d known then what I know now, I’d never have married him.”
Do you see how that gave me insight into my ancestor? An adventurer, not afraid to share the Gospel in an illegal situation, and probably with a sense of humor.
Because The Dogtrot Christmas is a romance, I needed to find some hooks to link in the history with the story. Cynthia “Syntha” Hanks Faires is the woman who died in childbirth. Her husband, James, raised the baby to adulthood, marrying and having other children by his second wife. Even though Kizzie is a heroic figure to that branch of the family (I descend from the shopkeeper son who stayed behind in Tennessee), I wanted to set my romance during the more dramatic historic time–the beginning of the Republic of Texas, immediately following the Battle of Goliad that ended the Mexican rule.
So, I invented a character: Molly Faires, a sister for Jamie. In my story, she raises the baby nephew, meets the Native American, and chinks the cabin. Easy.
She also enjoys Rev. Thomas Hanks’ preaching at a camp revival meeting and along the way falls in love with a native Tejano–fourth generation Spaniard on a land grant–who just happened to be tutored by the Rev. Hanks during those spying-out-the-land-for-the-Gospel visits.
What did it take to be a pioneer in that time and place? How did these people live out their spiritual lives on the frontier?
I took what I knew about Hanks’ faith and tailored it to the circumstances and beliefs of the people during that time. It had to be true to the early 19th century, but the Word of God is eternal and profitable no matter when in history a believer lives. Figuring out how people of faith related to their God was straight forward–and even easier when I found hymns sung at camp meetings!
How did it all turn out?
You’ll just have to read the story. But I’m proud to be a member of the Hanks family of Texas.
Oh, and how did I work in Christmas?
It’s Jesus’ birthday and he’s the center of the holiday and the hope the Hanks family took to Texas. Also, with a Mexican flair, I incorporated the posada tradition of looking for a home for Mary, Joseph and the baby. Since a dogtrot cabin sits at the heart of my story and our hero Luis is looking for a home . . . well . . . use your imagination.
What interesting stories does your family tell? Could you weave them into a novel with just a little push?
I could turn our entire life into a novel! haha