THE VINE THAT ATE THE SOUTH

Posted by Linda Swift

 

Kudzu photos courtesy of http://www.jjanthony.com/kudzu/

If you live in the South, Kudzu needs no introduction but in case you’re not a Southerner, let me introduce you to this climbing, coiling, trailing vine that came to the US through the Japanese pavilion at the 1876 Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia. It was welcomed in southern states to stop soil erosion and has been used as animal feed, medicines, and for making baskets. Kudzu can grow as much as a foot in a day and measures to eradicate it have failed miserably. In spite of efforts to mow it, burn it, and poison it with herbicides, it continues to devour the countryside. Just so you know, it now covers over seven million acres in the Southeastern part of our country and devours another 150,000 acres every year. In his poem, Kudzu, James Dickey warns us to close our windows at night to keep the kudzu out of our houses.

 

My morbid fascination with Kudzu began on a family vacation with my husband and two children several years ago. We took a shortcut on state roads from Kentucky to Florida and found ourselves in a very creepy (literally) situation as we drove through Mississippi. Trees, buildings, even utility poles were totally covered by the creeping vines. Nothing could be seen but green for miles. The image took root in my mind but lay dormant like kudzu until years later when I was taking a creative writing class at a North Alabama University. Did I mention that I am a nomad?

I decided to write a story about the vine. This required characters and Billy Ray Warren came into being. I wrote a few pages and when it was my turn for a consultation with the instructor, I shared them. He said he would like to read more and at this point gave me the best writing advice I’ve ever received. I was narrating the story about a good ‘ole southern boy in my best post-graduate voice and he said the narration should always be at about the same intellectual level as the characters. I took his advice and the story was off and running as fast as kudzu grows. I became a recorder and experienced for the first time a story that evolved into a life of its own.

That summer I submitted the story to Indiana University Writers’ Conference. I had entered three categories the prior year and been rejected in all three so I couldn’t believe it when I was notified that it had won the Fiction Skills Scholarship for the week’s free tuition. The director told when he called that I was a true rags to riches story. Then he said the winners of the four divisions would read their winning entries at the conference opening night and mine, being longest, would be last. The story was thirty pages long, over 7,000 words, and took more than half an hour to read aloud. And so, in front of more than two hundred authors and instructors from all over the US, I put my creation, my heart and soul, on the line. I finished and there was dead silence. I held my breath. And then the crowd gave me a standing ovation. It was only one of three times I’ve ever felt truly validated as a writer.

All week I basked in participants’ praise and fantasized someday joining the ranks of my idols, Eudora Welty and Flannery O’Conner. At the suggestion of my judge and conference leader, I submitted the story to Saturday Evening Post when I got home. It wasn’t long until a letter of acceptance came—with one small stipulation. I had to cut the words in half. Cut off Billy Ray’s arms and legs? Impossible. I sent him out a few more times to have doors slammed in his face. And then I buried him in a dark closet where he has remained until now. As the IU judge remarked about Billy Ray when she gave me the scholarship certificate, “Poor  bah-stard, he never had a chance, did he?”     

I had begun to think her observation was true. But there is a time and place for everything. And this story has found its niche in speculative fiction.

Linda Swift divides her time between her native state of Kentucky and Florida. She has 10 ebooks (also in print) and 5 short stories available from six publishers. More books and short stories are scheduled for release in 2012. 

Get more info at www.lindaswift.net

 

Newest Release:  Winner Take All

Billy Ray Warren returns from Detroit to claim the old family homestead but first he will have to destroy the intruder who has taken it over. He comes armed and ready to do battle with his hated rival for possession of what is now rightfully his but an unfortunate accident leaves him a helpless prey for his ruthless enemy. With grim determination, he fights for his life knowing there can only be one winner. 

You can find Billy Ray now at  Amazon,  Smashwords, and Monkeybars  for .99 

KANE'S PROMISE IS HERE!

Last year, I started to write a short story for a western anthology that I wanted to

submit to. I had an idea that wouldn’t let me go, no matter how hard I tried to shake it off. I normally write romance. But this story was to be a western, with no romance involved. My “what if” concerned the long reaching effects of an Indian massacre and kidnapping on a young white boy, Will Green.

To tell a story like that, I was going to have to be inside the boy’s head. So the story would have to be told from the first person POV—something I just never do. It’s always been a temptation of mine to write something in first person. But could I pull it off? First person, a boy, a child. I had to try, because there was just no other way to do it.

Once I began to write KANE’S REDEMPTION, I could see that the “short story” was not going to remain “short.” The word count limit for stories for the anthology was 5,000 per story. When I stopped to count, I was already at double that amount. I laid the story aside and started another shorter story in order to finish it in time to submit. But when I came back to KANE’S REDEMPTION, I was free to make it as long as it needed to be.

By the time the story ended at around 25,000 words, I knew that it truly wasn’t finished, even then. So much had happened to young Will and Jacobi Kane, the man who rescued him from the Apache, that I knew this was going to be a series of novellas. In the first book, Will and Jacobi forged quite a relationship, first of necessity and then of a father/son bond. But that relationship was only just beginning.



I wrote KANE’S PROMISE, book 2 in the series, that carries them on into the next year of Will’s life. When a posse comes calling to ask Jacobi Kane to help them track the Apache, will he go? He’s made a promise to his first wife to avenge her, as she lay dying in his arms, but now he has other responsibilities.

Ten-year-old Will is torn between staying with his pregnant stepmother and following Jacobi. He must make a gut-wrenching decision. But they are a family now, and family helps one another, no matter what.

BLURB:
Kane's Promise, the second in a series of three, is the continuation of Kane's Redemption, the story of Will Green, a young boy whose family was murdered by the Apache, and Jacobi Kane, the man who rescued Will from the Indians.

In Kane's Promise, Jacobi Kane must lead a band of lawmen in their mission to find and annihilate the remnants of the Apache renegades who were responsible for killing Will's parents and Kane's wife and children.

But Will knows he belongs at Jacobi Kane's side—not left behind in the safety of the cabin. Once they find the Apaches, all hell breaks loose.
Can Kane protect Will and see this battle to a final end?

EXCERPT: Will and Jacobi are getting ready to leave Colbert’s Ferry Station when Marshal Eddington, one of Jacobi’s old nemeses, decides to cause trouble. He has just insulted Jacobi in front of everyone, and Will, unable to stand Jacobi’s silence, jumps down from his horse and attacks the unsuspecting marshal. Jacobi pulls Will off, but Eddington draws Jacobi into the fight. Here’s what happens:

“I ought to kill you!” Eddington’s eyes were murderous, and now that I had regained my senses, it dawned on me I had made us an enemy for life by making him look foolish in front of the other men. He looked back and forth at me and Jacobi, so I wasn’t certain who he meant to kill, but I was pretty sure he meant me.

Jacobi turned to look at Eddington, rising swiftly to close the few steps between him and the marshal. “If you ever lay a hand on him, Oscar, you’ll answer to me.”

Eddington was busy wiping the blood off his face but he looked up at Jacobi, his thick lips twisting in a sneer. “Go on. Tell me you know a hundred ways to kill me, and all of ’em would make me wish I’d never come into the world at all!”

“You said it, Eddington. Not me.”

Eddington took a final disgusted swipe with his dirty bandana at the trail of blood that kept trickling from his nose.

“I believe ’em, Kane,” he spat. “All those rumors about you bein’ part Injun your own self. You’re no better’n Laughing Wind hisself. A murderin’—”

Jacobi jumped for Eddington, who had quickly gone for his knife. Jacobi landed squarely atop the marshal’s belly and delivered a hammering blow to his jaw at the same time. He easily knocked the marshal’s blade out of his hand as if it were child’s play. Eddington let out a loud “oomph” when Jacobi’s fist connected with his belly.
But Eddington had learned a few tricks of his own, and he was surprisingly quick to be as fat as he was. I’d always felt sorry for his horse, having to tote him all over creation, as heavy as he had to be.

Jacobi knew what Eddington’s next move would be before he made it, it seemed like. I’d only seen Jacobi fight twice before. The first time was when Red Eagle found us and tried to jump us. I could tell both Jacobi and Red Eagle knew they were fighting for their lives, but I couldn’t see much, bein’ as how it was in the middle of the night. The fight Jacobi and Laughing Wind had had was just as serious—a fight to the death, for Laughing Wind. But, in the heat of the battle that had been going on around me, I hadn’t absorbed the skill Jacobi had. The way he rolled and punched and parried Eddington’s blows was like some kind of a dance.

After a few seconds, it was all over. I knew it wouldn’t take Jacobi long to end what he’d started.

Eddington had stopped trying to fight and was covering his head, instead. He was making the little girl noises again. Jacobi had sure beat the hell out of him, and it made my heart glad. I reckoned Jacobi understood just how I’d felt only a few minutes ago. I knew there wouldn’t be one word of lecture from him about me tearing in to Marshal Eddington, when he’d gone and done the same thing his own self. He rolled away from Eddington and came to his feet, breathing hard and just looking at the marshal for a few seconds. Then, he reached down and picked up his hat, dusting it off.
The other men had all gathered around, and even Mrs. Colbert and her daughters had come outside and stood watching. Marshal Eddington began to holler like a wild man when he saw everyone watching him.

“I’ve got witnesses! Kane, you’re going to pay, one way or another! You and that whelp of yours—”

Jacobi took a step forward, planting his foot squarely on Eddington’s wounded thigh, directly over the bullet hole.

“Son of a bitch!” Eddington screamed. He tried to roll, but Jacobi dropped to his knees, grabbing Eddington’s arm and twisting as he kept his weight on the wound.
“Don’t threaten me, Eddington. Never, ever threaten my family, or me.” He leaned close and spoke so softly no one else but me and Marshal Eddington could hear. “Don’t force me to pick one of those ‘hundred ways’, Marshal. I promise you, I will do it.”

Today I’m giving away a copy of KANE’S PROMISE to one lucky commenter. Please leave a comment along with your contact info to be entered—easy, huh?

You can find KANE’S PROMISE as well as KANE’S REDEMPTION here at my Amazon site:
Cheryl's Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/cherylpierson

Kane’s Redemption is available at Barnes and Noble for Nook, and Kane’s Promise should be there as well by the end of the week.

Look for part 3 of the series, KANE’S DESTINY, in the fall! Don’t forget to leave a comment to enter the drawing for a copy of KANE’S PROMISE.

Welcome to Wolf Creek

Hi there. I'm Troy D. Smith, current president of Western Fictioneers and series editor of WF's exciting new project, Wolf Creek.

Western Fictioneers is the only professional writing organization devoted exclusively to -well, fiction about the West, specifically the period we now call the Old West. We have a lot of very talented members- including several folks who write for Western Trail Blazer- and WTB itself is a patron member.

I'm almost scared to list the WF members who write for WTB, because I know I'll forget somebody... but I'm going to give it a try anyhow:

Madeline Baker
John D. Nesbitt
Cheryl Pierson
Kit Prate
Tom Rizzo
Jory Sherman
Troy D. Smith
Chuck Tyrell
Les Williams

Please holler if I've forgotten anyone- and if you have written anything for WTB, remember that qualifies you for WF membership! For details on that, see http://www.westernfictioneers.com/ .

Yesterday WF announced details about Wolf Creek. It is a western novel series, set in and around the fictional town of Wolf Creek, Kansas. All of the WF authors involved- 17 at last count -have created one or two characters. In each novel five or six of those writers produce a chapter or more apiece, from the POV of their own character. As series editor I coordinate the plotting and make sure everything flows into one story. The books are produced by Western Fictioneers, as our anthology was last year.

We are using a "house name" -Ford Fargo- as the author, at least on the front cover, but each contributor gets credit for the chapter(s) they produce (the house name is to make it easier for readers to remember.) We have been having a lot of fun so far, and I think it shows through in the final product -and I want to acknowledge all the help I've recieved on the editorial front from Livia Washburn and Cheryl Pierson.

(By the way, our very own Cheryl Pierson is one of the writers for this first volume, and Chuck Tyrell will be appearing in one soon!)

Our first volume, Bloody Trail, is scheduled for release on Sept. 1, and we expect to have a new installment every three to four months after that. It is a wonderful ensemble cast, and we have some fascinating folks living in our little town. For our WTB readers, I invite you to take a look at what we've come up with once it is available; and for my fellow WTB authors, I invite you to join us at Western Fictioneers and take part in the fun!

Details about Wolf Creek -the writers involved, their characters, and an overview of the town -can be found at our special website for the series, http://wolfcreekkansas.yolasite.com/

Remember: Wolf Creek is a great place to visit, but you wouldn't want to die there!

Troy Smith