The Gift of Belonging

Great Plains and Western literature (and I) lost a wonderful friend last March. Dr. Arthur Huseboe contributed to so much in the lives of so many that I can't begin to detail his life. I came to know him while I was a student at Augustana College in Sioux Falls, SD, in the early 1980s, where he was my literature and creative writing professor. Dr. Huseboe was the first person to open my eyes to regional literature, specifically literature of the West and Great Plains of America, through his work as my teacher and through the Center for Western Studies at Augustana. He's the one who taught me about the significance of place in a writer's voice and work. Because of Dr. H, I think of myself as a regional writer.

Dr. Huseboe also took me seriously as a novelist, God bless him. He spent countless hours reading my first attempts at poetry, short stories and novels and encouraged me to keep trying. He introduced me to the Western Literature Association, whose members surely feel the great loss of their former President. He helped me to write my first scholarly paper on a South Dakota author, Herbert Krause, and encouraged me to present it at a WLA conference in Idaho. Dr. H also provided one of my favorite quotes about mentoring. "No one was ever corrected into perfection."

Fortunately, after some years away, I reconnected with him a few months before he died. His last words to me were of affection and encouragement and I will always thank him for that. So there it is. When I sit down to write, I often think of him. When I reflect on the Great Plains and the West as my home, I realize that he is the one who gave this vagabond a sense of regional belonging.

Thanks to my dear mentor, Dr. Arthur Huseboe, whom I deeply miss, for teaching me that I'm in a good place, writing it down, right here.

Writing it Then

I may be the world's most delinquent blogger, but I have been writing. This new story is requiring a great deal of research. Thanks to the Internet, that process is sometimes too enjoyable.
In my online and "inbooks" research, I've been in places as specific as London...Calais...Berlin and Steinhoering Germany and last, but not least, the Republican River valley in Franklin County, Nebraska. The only one of those places I have ever actually visited was that part of Nebraska, where my parents grew up and my grandparents lived as I was a child. (The photo at left is of my Grandpa Henry Feess, holding me in front of the Franklin County Courthouse.) Among those different and distant places are also different times...1900-1960s, with the narrator telling the story in 1968.

My current novel was in process when I had the pleasure of reading Wolf Hall, by Hilary Mantel. It is a fascinating and vivid retelling of the story of Thomas Cromwell, the first Earl of Essex during the reign of Henry VII. She reveals some of the challenges of research, which took her five years, in an interview with the Wall Street Journal.
 
"To avoid contradicting history, she created a card catalogue, organized alphabetically by character. Each card contained notes locating a particular historical figure—such as protagonist Thomas Cromwell, Henry's adviser—on relevant dates.

'You really need to know, where is the Duke of Suffolk at the moment? You can't have him in London if he's supposed to be somewhere else,' she says." (1)

Checking facts provides a sturdy framework for plot and character. Thorough research might include contemporaneous fashion, household items, road and topographical maps, train schedules and bus routes, medical procedures and reading materials, to name a few. But then, there's all the rest. Of course, I'm sure Ms. Mantel would agree. Physical location in time and space is only the first part of the challenge. In my case, I'm involving my characters with actual historic figures, as she did, so I must share her scruples.

 
Characters in historical fiction may not have access to public education and may struggle with common injuries and diseases that have no cure. They may witness death as an ordinary event and find themselves caught up in historic tides, without the luxury or arrogance that time provides for interpretation. Picture a man who only listens to his radio for music and events and reads the paper primarily to develop his political views...a woman who boards a ship or a train incognito, instead of going through a security check and body pat-down at the airport...someone who isn't traceable with a number on a cell phone or a or credit or debit card, so he or she could get lost and found repeatedly, even reinventing himself or herself, at will.

This lovely ordeal of maybes and maybe nots, this process of writing takes time and mental immersion. It's exciting and will not be rushed. But it's a marvelous moment when the characters begin to speak in their own language, in their own time, even talking back when you try to make them do something they can't fathom from their time and place. Then the real education and fun begin for this writer.

Thanks to Hilary Mantel, I have a new respect for authors of quality historical fiction, their processes and results. Now I just may be addicted, as well, to writing it there and then.


(1) "How to Write a Great Novel," Wall Street Journal Friday, November 13, 2009. http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703740004574513463106012106.html?mod=WSJ_hpp_sections_lifestyle
(2) This image is of book cover, found on Wikipedia and Amazon.com, and the copyright for it is most likely owned either by the artist who created the cover or the publisher of the book. It is believed that the use of low-resolution images of book covers to illustrate an article discussing the book in question qualifies as fair use under United States copyright law. This is my sole intention in uploading the image.