Most of us do it consciously once a year: we set a New Year's resolution. It's generally something we want to happen to us during the year - lose weight, stop smoking, exercise more. But what we might not realize is we are constantly making mini-resolutions to ourselves in the form of wishes or goals. And as a writer, recognizing the signs of each can help us create truly multi-dimensional characters.
A wish is something the character wants to happen. It might be a dream of becoming a famous musician, a renowned painter, a globe-trotting actress. Perhaps Life didn't go exactly as that character would have wanted, and she's now stuck in a role for which she never planned or wanted: taking care of a houseful of children, putting her own hopes on hold to help her spouse achieve his, or health issues or money issues that derailed her.
A goal is also something the character wants to happen, but unlike a wish, a goal involves action from the character. The person wants to become a renowned painter, so she takes art classes, dedicates time to her craft, learns how, when and where to participate in art shows and gain public awareness of her talents. To be achievable, one major goal - of becoming a renowned painter - must be divided into smaller goals; achievements that continue her progress forward.
Characters are almost always ones of action. Let's face it, having a character sit and wish for something to happen doesn't make for great reading. She has to get out of her thoughts and do something.
Wishes are passive (waiting for something to happen) but goals are active (making something happen.)
But we can also use the passive wishes as underlying reasons for a character's actions. For example, suppose we have a beautiful and talented woman who dreamed of becoming a famous actress. She's been participating in community theatre, taking acting classes, and learning her craft. Now she meets a man who has money and power. She becomes part of his life - and flash forward twenty years. Now you might have a character who is frustrated. A trophy wife who feels her best years are behind her, Mrs. CEO or Mrs. General who lives totally through her husband's achievements but has none of her own.
Now you have a passive character who has a motive. A motive to strike out at the person who she believes derailed her career, perhaps even her entire life. A motive for murder. A motive for infidelity. A motive for a crime.
In writing, it isn't necessary for the author to paint the entire picture all at once. But the past can surface in small increments, unfolding as the plot unfolds, like a mosiac that forms shape as the reader continues turning those pages. In the end, we don't just have a character who plotted her husband's demise. We have a multi-dimensional character whose motives have unfolded in such a way that the reader feels some emotion for her: sadness, perhaps, maybe anger at her circumstances, perhaps even feel her frustration and urge to take control of a life that has been on auto-pilot.
It's that richness, that depth of character, that helps to propel a character forward. And the clever use of wishes versus goals makes all the difference.
Read p.m.terrell's latest suspense/thriller, The Banker's Greed, to see how characters who allowed Life to simply happen to them take control and change the course of events in their lives--and many others.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
American Idol: What We Can All Learn From It
I have to admit, I am hooked on American Idol. But not for the obvious reasons. Although I love music, I watch the show for the study in human behavior. And I believe no matter what career path you’ve chosen, you can learn a lot to prepare you for success by watching these contestants.
The season starts off with a whole lot of people who think they have talent but clearly do not. It’s interesting to watch people who aspire to be famous singers but who haven’t done the ground work—like learning notes. Others have an incredible presence and the moment they open their mouths, you sit up and listen, in awe of their talents.
By the time the American Idol contestants get to Hollywood, you’re looking at the best that auditioned. Those first two weeks are filled with assembling teams, learning songs, and establishing a music routine that will be performed in front of millions of viewers. For most, it’s the largest auditorium they’ve performed in; for all, it’s clearly the largest television audience.
Some of them fall apart. They are obviously not ready for the pressure, the intense work, the teamwork, the details… You can see it in their eyes when they step onto that stage, falter with their lines, freeze in front of the cameras, the blood draining from their faces.
Others are ruthless, climbing over other contestants—like the ones who booted out one of their team members and refused entry to another because they thought they weren’t good enough. That’s the way those performers would be in real life, too. You can argue the merits of their actions or decry the cut-throat manner in which they operate, but in the end it simply revealed their personalities.
Still others revel in the whole experience. The tougher it gets, the more critiques they stand up to, the stronger they get. They are confident in who they are and what they want to be. They know whatever happens, they will walk away with this experience under their belts and they’ll be stronger, more competitive, and a better performer than the day they walked in.
Those are the ones who win.
As you watch this season of American Idol, you will see some contestants bloom under the schedule, the intensity, the criticism, even the insanity of it all. And though there will be only one declared winner, there will be more than one in reality, just as others who reached the finals have gone on to lucrative careers.
It’s a door that’s opened.
If you’re climbing the ladder of any profession, are you really ready for it? Are you really prepared? Do you have the right attitude? Have you been honest about your personal strengths and weaknesses? Can you blossom under the intensity of fame or fortune?
Because maybe, in the final analysis, being a winner is like riding a roller coaster: we’re all on the same ride. What matters is how we handle it.
The season starts off with a whole lot of people who think they have talent but clearly do not. It’s interesting to watch people who aspire to be famous singers but who haven’t done the ground work—like learning notes. Others have an incredible presence and the moment they open their mouths, you sit up and listen, in awe of their talents.
By the time the American Idol contestants get to Hollywood, you’re looking at the best that auditioned. Those first two weeks are filled with assembling teams, learning songs, and establishing a music routine that will be performed in front of millions of viewers. For most, it’s the largest auditorium they’ve performed in; for all, it’s clearly the largest television audience.
Some of them fall apart. They are obviously not ready for the pressure, the intense work, the teamwork, the details… You can see it in their eyes when they step onto that stage, falter with their lines, freeze in front of the cameras, the blood draining from their faces.
Others are ruthless, climbing over other contestants—like the ones who booted out one of their team members and refused entry to another because they thought they weren’t good enough. That’s the way those performers would be in real life, too. You can argue the merits of their actions or decry the cut-throat manner in which they operate, but in the end it simply revealed their personalities.
Still others revel in the whole experience. The tougher it gets, the more critiques they stand up to, the stronger they get. They are confident in who they are and what they want to be. They know whatever happens, they will walk away with this experience under their belts and they’ll be stronger, more competitive, and a better performer than the day they walked in.
Those are the ones who win.
As you watch this season of American Idol, you will see some contestants bloom under the schedule, the intensity, the criticism, even the insanity of it all. And though there will be only one declared winner, there will be more than one in reality, just as others who reached the finals have gone on to lucrative careers.
It’s a door that’s opened.
If you’re climbing the ladder of any profession, are you really ready for it? Are you really prepared? Do you have the right attitude? Have you been honest about your personal strengths and weaknesses? Can you blossom under the intensity of fame or fortune?
Because maybe, in the final analysis, being a winner is like riding a roller coaster: we’re all on the same ride. What matters is how we handle it.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
When Things are Not as They Seem...
A few years ago, one of my neighbors announced that she knew exactly what time I got up every day.
It seems that a group of ladies walk around the neighborhood at the crack of dawn and they noticed a light came on in my house each morning at precisely 5:30. Realizing that I was still sound asleep at that time of day, I was rather intrigued.
It turns out that I have the Sun-Rise Lamp, a nifty device that wakes you up with light instead of or in addition to, sound. And one of my house guests had set the clock while they were visiting, and unbeknownst to me, it was still coming on each morning at 5:30 and turning off automatically at 7:00 am while I was in another part of the house entirely.
But my neighbor was so convinced that she knew what time "the famous author" woke up each day that she spread the word rather quickly.
There was a time when no one knew who I was and what time I woke up interested absolutely nobody. I wonder if I might look back on that time as "the good ole days" ...
Once my books became successful, it appears that people will grasp at anything they think they know about me as an opportunity to tell others how intimate we are. When my vehicles are in the driveway, they "know" I am home, even if a friend has taken me to the airport and I'm out of the state. When my vehicles are gone, they "know" I am out of town. When I might, in fact, be curled up on the sofa watching TV.
This whole concept of people thinking they know what's going on inside my house or my life so intrigued me that I wrote this into my suspense/thriller, Exit 22. One of the main characters, Brenda Carnegie (who was up to a whole lot of things the neighborhood would have been buzzing about, had they known) had a series of timers in her home that made it look as if it was lived in even when it wasn't. Lights came on and off at all times of the day or night. And a neighbor who walked her dog each night was absolutely convinced she knew exactly which rooms Brenda was in or moving through, based on those lights...
Back in the 1970's I had a professor who always had a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. It was never lit but always dangling. He talked with it popping up and down with the movement of his lips. Several months into the course, he asked the students if he smoked. We all laughed. Of course he smoked. He was never seen without a cigarette in his mouth.
But the fact was, he didn't smoke. Never had. Never even lit one. He didn't own a lighter. Didn't carry matches. Each morning, he put a new cigarette in his mouth because he liked the way it felt there. And he walked around with it all day and discarded it when it got ragged or rained upon.
Look around you. Are things really what you think they are?
Or are things not as they seem to be, after all?
It seems that a group of ladies walk around the neighborhood at the crack of dawn and they noticed a light came on in my house each morning at precisely 5:30. Realizing that I was still sound asleep at that time of day, I was rather intrigued.
It turns out that I have the Sun-Rise Lamp, a nifty device that wakes you up with light instead of or in addition to, sound. And one of my house guests had set the clock while they were visiting, and unbeknownst to me, it was still coming on each morning at 5:30 and turning off automatically at 7:00 am while I was in another part of the house entirely.
But my neighbor was so convinced that she knew what time "the famous author" woke up each day that she spread the word rather quickly.
There was a time when no one knew who I was and what time I woke up interested absolutely nobody. I wonder if I might look back on that time as "the good ole days" ...
Once my books became successful, it appears that people will grasp at anything they think they know about me as an opportunity to tell others how intimate we are. When my vehicles are in the driveway, they "know" I am home, even if a friend has taken me to the airport and I'm out of the state. When my vehicles are gone, they "know" I am out of town. When I might, in fact, be curled up on the sofa watching TV.
This whole concept of people thinking they know what's going on inside my house or my life so intrigued me that I wrote this into my suspense/thriller, Exit 22. One of the main characters, Brenda Carnegie (who was up to a whole lot of things the neighborhood would have been buzzing about, had they known) had a series of timers in her home that made it look as if it was lived in even when it wasn't. Lights came on and off at all times of the day or night. And a neighbor who walked her dog each night was absolutely convinced she knew exactly which rooms Brenda was in or moving through, based on those lights...Back in the 1970's I had a professor who always had a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. It was never lit but always dangling. He talked with it popping up and down with the movement of his lips. Several months into the course, he asked the students if he smoked. We all laughed. Of course he smoked. He was never seen without a cigarette in his mouth.
But the fact was, he didn't smoke. Never had. Never even lit one. He didn't own a lighter. Didn't carry matches. Each morning, he put a new cigarette in his mouth because he liked the way it felt there. And he walked around with it all day and discarded it when it got ragged or rained upon.
Look around you. Are things really what you think they are?
Or are things not as they seem to be, after all?
Monday, September 6, 2010
Planning a Crime
Before I became a full-time writer, my favorite job involved planning crimes. And the best part about it was the federal government paid me to do it.
As the use of computers and the Internet grew, so did white collar computer crime. And the federal government was losing billions of dollars - your tax dollars, by the way - to fraud, waste and abuse. So for years, various government agencies have been paying people like me to stay one step ahead of the criminals. This involved thinking like a criminal, planning the crime, and then writing a computer program to detect the type of crime we'd just invented. The result led to identifying people and organizations who were committing fraud through the use of computers - saving the taxpayers millions, if not billions, of dollars.
I was sitting in a restaurant one day having lunch with two of my coworkers as the televisions began to report the 2000 election results, leading to the famous Florida Chads. Pregnant chads, dimpled chads, half-punched chads, hanging chads. I learned more about chads than I ever wanted to know. And during the course of the recount, I made the comment to one of my coworkers that in this day and age, it was ridiculous to depend upon people making a little hole in a card and putting it through a machine. It should be computerized.
But as we continued to watch this Chad Fiasco unfold, it occurred to me that if voting technology was computerized, I could easily write a program to rig the election. I could even write the program so it erased itself after it provided the results, so no one would ever know it had been rigged.
Simply by infiltrating one voting machine - just one - I could communicate to other voting machines through the use of satellite technology. The same satellite technology you rely on for cell phones. I could send out my rigged voting program like a virus.
That thought became the basis for my second suspense/thriller, The China Conspiracy. I have long believed that China poses as big a threat as the Soviet Union once did. It has quietly grown to surpass the United States in many areas. Why not have a plan to take over the United States without firing a single shot?
It could be done by rigging the elections. Like a modern day Manchurian Candidate, they could recruit people who are sympathetic to Chinese causes. For example, instead of having say, a shoe factory, textile mill, manufacturing plant, or even weapons manufacturing right here in the United States, the elected officials could vote for tax breaks or incentives, enabling and encouraging business owners and conglomerates to move their operations overseas - to China. It would reach throughout the government to officials who help set policy regarding trade agreements, tax regulations, and even turning the other way if China became a threat to its neighbors - or to us.
In The China Conspiracy, Kit Olsen is a programmer for the CIA. Then two of her coworkers are murdered and her 16-year-old son, Tim, is kidnapped. The ransom: Mandarin computer code the CIA had convertly intercepted from the Chinese - a program Kit had been assigned to decipher. Kit is trying to get her son back and also feverishly trying to decode the program - which leads her into an inner circle of Chinese-backed CIA operatives and a political bonfire she never could have imagined.
When The China Conspiracy was released, Johns Hopkins University had just completed a study regarding the new voting technology and its security weaknesses. Their findings raised red flags, which opponents sought to discredit.
At one point, Congress considered mandating a paper trail: although the voter would record their initial vote via touch-screen, a paper ballot would be generated so the voter could verify their vote was recorded accurately. And if a recount was necessary, it would be possible to do with the paper ballots. Because, as any programmer knows, if a program is set to count entries, it will always count them the same way - meaning a technological recount should always produce the exact same results.
However, the measure was voted down. Congress argued that paper trails would cost too much money.
The news continued to get worse. Just days before the 2006 elections, World Net Daily reported that one of the touch-screen voting machine technologies might be owned by anti-American Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez, who would have a lot to gain by having our elections rigged, putting into place people sympathetic to his views.
Then Princeton University published an independent study of another brand of voting technologies, raising serious red flags about the security flaws. Watch them demonstrate how easily they can rig an election, live on TV (posted now on YouTube.)
So as you head to the election booth this fall and cast your vote... How do you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that your vote was recorded exactly as you intended it?
You don't.
Check out The China Conspiracy and reviews on amazon, including the newest release for amazon Kindle.
As the use of computers and the Internet grew, so did white collar computer crime. And the federal government was losing billions of dollars - your tax dollars, by the way - to fraud, waste and abuse. So for years, various government agencies have been paying people like me to stay one step ahead of the criminals. This involved thinking like a criminal, planning the crime, and then writing a computer program to detect the type of crime we'd just invented. The result led to identifying people and organizations who were committing fraud through the use of computers - saving the taxpayers millions, if not billions, of dollars.
I was sitting in a restaurant one day having lunch with two of my coworkers as the televisions began to report the 2000 election results, leading to the famous Florida Chads. Pregnant chads, dimpled chads, half-punched chads, hanging chads. I learned more about chads than I ever wanted to know. And during the course of the recount, I made the comment to one of my coworkers that in this day and age, it was ridiculous to depend upon people making a little hole in a card and putting it through a machine. It should be computerized.
But as we continued to watch this Chad Fiasco unfold, it occurred to me that if voting technology was computerized, I could easily write a program to rig the election. I could even write the program so it erased itself after it provided the results, so no one would ever know it had been rigged.
Simply by infiltrating one voting machine - just one - I could communicate to other voting machines through the use of satellite technology. The same satellite technology you rely on for cell phones. I could send out my rigged voting program like a virus.
That thought became the basis for my second suspense/thriller, The China Conspiracy. I have long believed that China poses as big a threat as the Soviet Union once did. It has quietly grown to surpass the United States in many areas. Why not have a plan to take over the United States without firing a single shot?
It could be done by rigging the elections. Like a modern day Manchurian Candidate, they could recruit people who are sympathetic to Chinese causes. For example, instead of having say, a shoe factory, textile mill, manufacturing plant, or even weapons manufacturing right here in the United States, the elected officials could vote for tax breaks or incentives, enabling and encouraging business owners and conglomerates to move their operations overseas - to China. It would reach throughout the government to officials who help set policy regarding trade agreements, tax regulations, and even turning the other way if China became a threat to its neighbors - or to us.
In The China Conspiracy, Kit Olsen is a programmer for the CIA. Then two of her coworkers are murdered and her 16-year-old son, Tim, is kidnapped. The ransom: Mandarin computer code the CIA had convertly intercepted from the Chinese - a program Kit had been assigned to decipher. Kit is trying to get her son back and also feverishly trying to decode the program - which leads her into an inner circle of Chinese-backed CIA operatives and a political bonfire she never could have imagined.
When The China Conspiracy was released, Johns Hopkins University had just completed a study regarding the new voting technology and its security weaknesses. Their findings raised red flags, which opponents sought to discredit.
At one point, Congress considered mandating a paper trail: although the voter would record their initial vote via touch-screen, a paper ballot would be generated so the voter could verify their vote was recorded accurately. And if a recount was necessary, it would be possible to do with the paper ballots. Because, as any programmer knows, if a program is set to count entries, it will always count them the same way - meaning a technological recount should always produce the exact same results.
However, the measure was voted down. Congress argued that paper trails would cost too much money.
The news continued to get worse. Just days before the 2006 elections, World Net Daily reported that one of the touch-screen voting machine technologies might be owned by anti-American Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez, who would have a lot to gain by having our elections rigged, putting into place people sympathetic to his views.
Then Princeton University published an independent study of another brand of voting technologies, raising serious red flags about the security flaws. Watch them demonstrate how easily they can rig an election, live on TV (posted now on YouTube.)
So as you head to the election booth this fall and cast your vote... How do you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that your vote was recorded exactly as you intended it?
You don't.
Check out The China Conspiracy and reviews on amazon, including the newest release for amazon Kindle.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
The Smallest Step Can Be the Largest Leap
Sometimes it's the smallest step, the one that is thought to be the most insignificant, that can lead to the largest leap.
Though I'd always wanted to be a novelist, I fell into the world of computing long before the invention of PC hard drives, laptops, flash cards, and email and the Internet as we know it today. I'd founded and operated two computer companies with customers that included the CIA, United States Secret Service, the Department of Defense, and local law enforcement agencies.
But one day I received a phone call from a trucking company, who wanted me to automate their deliveries. After developing the initial program, I was called into the boardroom and asked to hide their kickbacks.
The men proceeded to explain to me how they made under-the-table payments to purchasing agencies in return for the award of contracts. Their current system tracked the money, which was dangerous in the event that federal agents raided their offices and seized their computers. What they wanted me to do was develop a new computer program that would track the payments for their own records, but completely obliterate the information afterward, removing any audit trails.
I decided it was too risky for me to jump up and try to run; after all, I joined the school band to get out of gym classes. So I pretended not to notice that they were asking me to commit a crime, and I proceded to gather the information I'd need to write this program. And I found out in that moment that people will tell a programmer anything.
They provided me with a complete set of their books, showing where the money was going and who it was being paid to - at the tune of $30,000 a week. As I drove away with printouts and a CD filled with incriminating evidence, I was certain I would be stopped somewhere along the rural, winding roads to my home. And the next morning, someone would find my head in a ditch.
Of all the programmers they could have confided in, I was the world's worst. My father was a retired FBI agent. And like a dutiful daughter, I went straight home and called Dad. After listening to my story, he said he'd identified at least seven federal offenses. I was put in touch with the local FBI office, who arrived at my home within the hour and gathered up the evidence.
But I couldn't simply walk away. I knew too much.
So for the next year and a half, I provided as much information possible to the FBI while I continued to work with the trucking company. It was the most stressful time of my life. I couldn't tell anyone what I was doing, though my local police department was aware of my status and were presumably keeping a close eye on me. One police chief asked me if I was afraid I'd find a horse's head in my bed. To which I replied that I'd never thought of it, but now that he'd planted the seed, I was.
The years passed and I was extricated from the trucking company. Trying to make lemonade out of lemons, I decided it was time for me to write that suspense/thriller I'd always dreamed about. The experts always said "write what you know" and I knew this crime inside and out, backwards and forwards.
Kickback took two years to write. I changed the location so it wouldn't identify the specific trucking company. It would be too easy for the main character, Sheila, to have an FBI father so I made her an orphan with no one to turn to. When she contacted the FBI, she didn't yet have the evidence and they didn't believe her. But when she tried to extricate herself from them, the bad guys pursued her - making it clear that her life depended upon her cooperation.It took another two years for the book to be published. I started with the big guys, accummulated the pile of rejections from them, and worked my way down to the medium-sized publishers and small publishers until eventually I found a micro-publisher willing to publish the book.
As it was going into the market, I googled "trucking kickback scheme" just for the fun of it. What I found made my blood run cold. I had changed the location of the crime to the Washington, DC area, with the main character living in Old Town Alexandria - never realizing a trucking company was being prosecuted for a trucking-related kickback scheme identical to the one in my book. And at the very moment my book was released, their trial began - in Alexandria.
The marketing "arm" of the publisher wanted me to have the launch at the annual trucker's convention. Terrified, I replied, "But they'll kill me!" To which she replied, "Yes, but think of the book sales!"
I had the main character, Sheila, graduating from Vanderbilt University, never realizing that a now-former purchasing director had been prosecuted for a kickback scheme.
I didn't know whether to enter the witness protection program, flee the country, change my name, or all of the above.
In the end, I decided to tell my story. The first time I went public with the true story behind Kickback, I left the venue and headed for Interstate 81 in Virginia when a tractor-trailer came out of nowhere and avoided flattening my car by a thin coat of paint. I became the spokesperson for The Virginia Crime Stoppers Association, and some fantastic law enforcement officers began accompanying me on my speaking engagements and book signings.
In the end, the release of Kickback led to a new career for me. In 2002, the year it was released, my largest programming contract ended. They say in the publishing industry "never quit your day job" but my day job appeared to have quit me. So I went with the flow, writing The China Conspiracy (published in 2003 by a slightly larger publisher), followed by five more books in five more years.
I've been largely out of the computer industry since 2002, except for supporting causes I am passionate about.
I never dreamed it at the time, but that one seemingly insignificant phone call ultimately led to the leap from computer programmer to full-time novelist. And I'm loving every minute.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Once a Soldier...
I got up this morning at 2 am to take my husband Don to the airport. He's on the last leg of his training in preparation for deployment to Afghanistan. There are those who think he's crazy for going. And others who probably think I'm crazy for supporting him. But those are the folks who really don't know who he is...
Don joined the military in 1967. His first deployment was Vietnam, where he was wounded twice. He doesn't talk about the Vietnam War, but others have told me when his buddies were dead on either side of him and only a handful of wounded soldiers were holding their position against overwhelming odds, he thought he wasn't going to make it off that hill alive.
We recently ran across his album of soldiers who graduated boot camp with him, and of the ninety who left for Vietnam, less than half survived the war. As a result of that experience, Don doesn't have any patience for those who wear their military "career" on their shirtsleeves but who actually were in service for only two years and never saw combat. Or for those who sit in air conditioned offices and think they know exactly what the troops should be doing.
He remained in the military for nearly thirty years and served in every conflict through Desert Storm. He was one of an elite few who airlifted the students out of Grenada. At the U.S. Army Aviation Museum at Fort Rucker, Alabama, they even have a picture of him, alone, walking away from his helicopter after landing in Grenada (shown at right).
He was in Panama when they flushed out Noriega. He served two
tours in Korea - the coldest place on earth, he said, until he got to Kansas. He served in Honduras, El Salvador, and in Saudi Arabia, among others.
He taught Army pilots how to fly Hueys and Black Hawks for more than sixteen years. One of the pilots he taught was in Somalia when his helicopter was shot, and Don was proud that "his student" made it back to base and to safety. The incident was immortalized in "Black Hawk Down."
He retired from the military in 1996. He flew EMS for a few years and then took a job with the North Carolina government, fighting forest fires by helicopter. Recently, an old commander from the Army asked him to come back. He remembered that "Don didn't flinch in a war zone." Don jumped at the chance.
To those who think it's "too dangerous" for him to fly in Afghanistan, I wonder if they understand that for the past few years, my husband has been flying INTO forest fires.
Yes, Afghanistan is dangerous. And I know, as every military spouse knows, that there are no guarantees he will come home safely. But I understand the sentiment that so many have expressed: he is doing what he loves the most.
And in the end, isn't it better to live the life you've always dreamed about, than to die feeling that you never lived at all?
Don joined the military in 1967. His first deployment was Vietnam, where he was wounded twice. He doesn't talk about the Vietnam War, but others have told me when his buddies were dead on either side of him and only a handful of wounded soldiers were holding their position against overwhelming odds, he thought he wasn't going to make it off that hill alive.
We recently ran across his album of soldiers who graduated boot camp with him, and of the ninety who left for Vietnam, less than half survived the war. As a result of that experience, Don doesn't have any patience for those who wear their military "career" on their shirtsleeves but who actually were in service for only two years and never saw combat. Or for those who sit in air conditioned offices and think they know exactly what the troops should be doing.
He remained in the military for nearly thirty years and served in every conflict through Desert Storm. He was one of an elite few who airlifted the students out of Grenada. At the U.S. Army Aviation Museum at Fort Rucker, Alabama, they even have a picture of him, alone, walking away from his helicopter after landing in Grenada (shown at right).
He was in Panama when they flushed out Noriega. He served two
tours in Korea - the coldest place on earth, he said, until he got to Kansas. He served in Honduras, El Salvador, and in Saudi Arabia, among others.He taught Army pilots how to fly Hueys and Black Hawks for more than sixteen years. One of the pilots he taught was in Somalia when his helicopter was shot, and Don was proud that "his student" made it back to base and to safety. The incident was immortalized in "Black Hawk Down."
He retired from the military in 1996. He flew EMS for a few years and then took a job with the North Carolina government, fighting forest fires by helicopter. Recently, an old commander from the Army asked him to come back. He remembered that "Don didn't flinch in a war zone." Don jumped at the chance.
To those who think it's "too dangerous" for him to fly in Afghanistan, I wonder if they understand that for the past few years, my husband has been flying INTO forest fires.
Yes, Afghanistan is dangerous. And I know, as every military spouse knows, that there are no guarantees he will come home safely. But I understand the sentiment that so many have expressed: he is doing what he loves the most.
And in the end, isn't it better to live the life you've always dreamed about, than to die feeling that you never lived at all?
Monday, July 5, 2010
230 Years Since Mary was Captured
It occurred to me last week that August, 2010 will mark the 230th anniversary of Mary Neely's capture by Shawnee warriors. In case you don't know about this true story, here's some of the background; my father ran across her story while researching our ancestry:
On August 3, 1780 while Mary Neely was singing and boiling water at Neely's Salt Lick (near present-day Nashville, TN) to make salt, she and her father William were attacked by Shawnee warriors. William was killed and scalped and Mary was taken captive.
She was brought up the Cumberland River and the Ohio to Shawneetown, a thriving village of 2,200 Indians, where she was renamed "Songbird" for her beautiful voice. She was given the choice of marrying the brave who had just killed and scalped her father, or become a slave. Though she wanted to return to her family, that was not an option, so she became a slave to the chieftain's wife.
She was then taken hundreds of miles from home, through present-day Illinois, Indiana and Ohio. She suffered brutality at the hands of the Indians, as well as starvation and illness. Her thin cotton dress was all she had, and her shoes had long ago worn out. They crossed through an area known as the Great Black Swamp, which was malaria infested and almost wiped out the band of Indians who brought her there. When they emerged on the other side, they continued to Fort Detroit.
Henry Hamilton, a British officer, was in charge of Fort Detroit during the Revolutionary War. He had instituted a policy of paying the Indians, particularly the Shawnee, for every captive they brought to the fort and for every scalp that presumably showed they had killed an American. Mary was branded by the British as proof they had paid for her capture, but she was released back to the Indians.
At Fort Detroit, her captors gave Mary the opportunity to get one item from the trading post. She could have asked for clothing or shoes. She was starving and could have asked for food. She had no comb and nothing to call her own. Yet the one item she asked for was a Bible. That Bible has been handed down through the generations and now belongs to a distant cousin.
In Northern Michigan, she escaped with the help of French villagers, only to be captured by the British and held as a prisoner of war. Months later, she was being transferred to British-held Fort Niagara when the ship ran aground in a gale. In the confusion that ensued, she escaped once more.
She walked across Canada and into New York, then headed south on foot all the way to Fort Pitt, where she was rescued by an American soldier who eventually reunited her with the remnants of her family. In her three-year absence, her mother and youngest brother had been killed by a separate Shawnee attack.
Though my "claim to fame" is suspense, I felt Mary Neely's story tugging at me, begging to be written. So I spent two years following in her footsteps, finding the exact spot where she was captured (which is now commemorated with a plaque) ... to the Shawnee village (now a ghost town) where she was renamed "Songbird" ... and across hundreds of miles. Songbirds are Free was published in 2007 and remains my most popular book. You can order it through amazon at this link.
Next Monday, July 12 at 6:30 pm EST (5:30 Central) I will be discussing Mary's true story live with radio host DeAnna Radaj. You can tune in and email questions for me at http://www.blogtalkradio.com/makeadifference/2010/07/12/kick-a-women-in-historymary-neely. I hope you'll join me there.
I've posted many of the pictures and video I took while following Mary's journey at www.maryneely.com.
Her story touched so many hearts that it has spawned a series. The second book, River Passage, was released in 2009 and follows Mary's journey westward through hostile Chickamauga Territory, arriving at Fort Nashborough just four months before she was captured. The books are considered both creative non-fiction and historical fiction, because although they are historically accurate, I used dialogue and imagination to fill in the gaps.
River Passage was determined to be so historically accurate, the Nashville Metropolitan Government Archives admitted the original manuscript into the Archives for future historians and researchers. River Passage also won the 2010 Best Fiction and Drama Award (Bengal Book Reviews.) You can order it from amazon at this link.
Join me for my radio interview next Monday at 6:30 pm EST, and if you're in the Paris, TN area, look for a newspaper article this week in The Paris Post-Intelligencer newspaper commemorating the 230th anniversary.
On August 3, 1780 while Mary Neely was singing and boiling water at Neely's Salt Lick (near present-day Nashville, TN) to make salt, she and her father William were attacked by Shawnee warriors. William was killed and scalped and Mary was taken captive.
She was brought up the Cumberland River and the Ohio to Shawneetown, a thriving village of 2,200 Indians, where she was renamed "Songbird" for her beautiful voice. She was given the choice of marrying the brave who had just killed and scalped her father, or become a slave. Though she wanted to return to her family, that was not an option, so she became a slave to the chieftain's wife.
She was then taken hundreds of miles from home, through present-day Illinois, Indiana and Ohio. She suffered brutality at the hands of the Indians, as well as starvation and illness. Her thin cotton dress was all she had, and her shoes had long ago worn out. They crossed through an area known as the Great Black Swamp, which was malaria infested and almost wiped out the band of Indians who brought her there. When they emerged on the other side, they continued to Fort Detroit.
Henry Hamilton, a British officer, was in charge of Fort Detroit during the Revolutionary War. He had instituted a policy of paying the Indians, particularly the Shawnee, for every captive they brought to the fort and for every scalp that presumably showed they had killed an American. Mary was branded by the British as proof they had paid for her capture, but she was released back to the Indians.
At Fort Detroit, her captors gave Mary the opportunity to get one item from the trading post. She could have asked for clothing or shoes. She was starving and could have asked for food. She had no comb and nothing to call her own. Yet the one item she asked for was a Bible. That Bible has been handed down through the generations and now belongs to a distant cousin.
In Northern Michigan, she escaped with the help of French villagers, only to be captured by the British and held as a prisoner of war. Months later, she was being transferred to British-held Fort Niagara when the ship ran aground in a gale. In the confusion that ensued, she escaped once more.
She walked across Canada and into New York, then headed south on foot all the way to Fort Pitt, where she was rescued by an American soldier who eventually reunited her with the remnants of her family. In her three-year absence, her mother and youngest brother had been killed by a separate Shawnee attack.
Though my "claim to fame" is suspense, I felt Mary Neely's story tugging at me, begging to be written. So I spent two years following in her footsteps, finding the exact spot where she was captured (which is now commemorated with a plaque) ... to the Shawnee village (now a ghost town) where she was renamed "Songbird" ... and across hundreds of miles. Songbirds are Free was published in 2007 and remains my most popular book. You can order it through amazon at this link.
Next Monday, July 12 at 6:30 pm EST (5:30 Central) I will be discussing Mary's true story live with radio host DeAnna Radaj. You can tune in and email questions for me at http://www.blogtalkradio.com/makeadifference/2010/07/12/kick-a-women-in-historymary-neely. I hope you'll join me there.
I've posted many of the pictures and video I took while following Mary's journey at www.maryneely.com.
Her story touched so many hearts that it has spawned a series. The second book, River Passage, was released in 2009 and follows Mary's journey westward through hostile Chickamauga Territory, arriving at Fort Nashborough just four months before she was captured. The books are considered both creative non-fiction and historical fiction, because although they are historically accurate, I used dialogue and imagination to fill in the gaps.
River Passage was determined to be so historically accurate, the Nashville Metropolitan Government Archives admitted the original manuscript into the Archives for future historians and researchers. River Passage also won the 2010 Best Fiction and Drama Award (Bengal Book Reviews.) You can order it from amazon at this link.
Join me for my radio interview next Monday at 6:30 pm EST, and if you're in the Paris, TN area, look for a newspaper article this week in The Paris Post-Intelligencer newspaper commemorating the 230th anniversary.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)