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Reading, Writing, Pondering: Big Life Themes, Literature, Contemporary/Historical Issues |
 Welcome to the 14th century, in a farflung outpost of the Holy Roman Empire, and a new Convent outpost of the terrrifically powerful Roman Catholic Church. Sound historically dull? Hopefully not so--for this is NOT an ordinary 14th Century Convent. Back after a six-year hiatus.... From NaNoWriMo historical Supernatural novels in Scotland, Michigan, South Alabama and historical horror in Standwood Station, GA-to the Phantom Northern Woods-to singlehandedly refighting the American Civil War-to exploring Social Justice and standing for First Amendment rights under the U.S. Constitution-we deal out horror, Supernatural, Historical, fantasy, mystery, and more. We do not fear outspokeness. And always, always, always, We Do History. Find it here. We write it. We read it. We hold strong opinions. We orate. Meanwhile, whether we're writing or just reading, we love to rave about books and authors right here!  |
| Obax and The Night-Riders, Stage Play, Act One, Scene Three: ACT ONE, SCENE THREE Savannah, Georgia. May, 1861. Confederate Army Recruiting Depot. Officers Section. Clerk sits behind a counter, filling out papers. Men of upper classes wait in line, mostly stationary, although one or two mill about, passing in and out of their places in line. (One of those moving in and out of line is JUDSON HEATH, of South Carolina. He is about to be appointed as a CAPTAIN in the cavalry corps, Department of South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida. He is the son of an Overseer at Murfreighborough Plantation near Edison, South Carolina. Due to his social status, he will not be likely to rise beyond the level of Captaincy. He is a very narcissistic individual, a sociopathic personality, with utterly no compassion nor empathy, but the ability to mask his character and to project a facade of empathy and friendliness. He walks up and down the line until he reaches a man five deep from the counter, SHERROD LACEY NELSON, who will shortly be appointed MAJOR.) (SHERROD LACEY NELSON is a compact, sturdy man of about 5'6, with piercing blue eyes and jet black thinning hair, combed straight back but worn long over the collar. His clothes are clean but crumpled, in contrast to JUDSON HEATH's spotless, starched, shirt, jacket, and cotton trousers.He has been chatting quietly with the man in front of him and the one directly behind him, when JUDSON HEATH approaches him. SHERROD LACEY NELSON was born to a Society family in Savannah, Georgia, in 1816. He trained in the Law at the University of Georgia in Athens, and has worked as a law clerk for the State of Georgia Supreme Court in Atlanta. Most recently, he has operated a private law practice here in Savannah. He is third cousin to Reynolds Lacey, father of VONDA LACEY, who will become the wife of HARRALD NEALM of Brunsmoor, South Georgia, and the married paramour of CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH.) (Just as JUDSON HEATH approaches SHERROD LACEY NELSON, the CLERK is approached by a file clerk who enters through the rear door of the office, some twenty feet behind the counter. The two CLERKS whisper together, then the seated CLERK nods a dismissal. As the FILE CLERK leaves again through the rear door, the CLERK calls up the next six men in line, together. As JUDSON HEATH is now standing directly beside SHERROD LACEY NELSON, the CLERK assumes JUDSON HEATH is a companion to SHERROD LACEY NELSON, and so the six go up to the counter together: four men ahead of SHERROD LACEY NELSON, plus SHERROD LACEY NELSON and JUDSON HEATH, who now need not return to his place in line, just as was his plan.) CLERK: You six! (motions, in a wide, horseshoe-shaped wave) Up here to the counter, now! I need the next six men: you, you, you, you, and you two together there! Here now, get your papers ready and get your pens-time to enlist. We need officers immediately, to ship out. So get up here and get yourselves enrolled, then come through this gate right here (lifts a section of the counter to his right, STAGE LEFT) and go back through that door that Jackson just left through. He'll take you to be fitted for your uniforms at the Seamtresses'. (Quickly all six men show their identity paperwork, each waiting as THE CLERK fills in some forms, then each signs and is given an order showing his new rank and unit assignment and location.) (The last two men of these six to leave are SHERROD LACEY NELSON, now MAJOR, and JUDSON HEATH, now CAPTAIN. As they pass through the gate in the counter, THE CLERK lowers it behind them and motions to the next several men in line, some of whom are disgruntled because of JUDSON HEATH'S “cutting in line.”) (MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON precedes CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH through the rear door, and as they exit, CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH slaps him companionably and too familiarly on the shoulder, speaking to him at a distance too low to be heard, smiling widely.) (Lights dim. Lights out.) END OF ACT ONE, SCENE THREE |
| I just want to add that I am far from unaware of the horrible damage done to the Gulf of Mexico by the explosion and fire on the oil rig, nor am I unaware of the tragic loss of life caused immediately, as well as of the long-term effects to marine life and to those who make their living from the Gulf. It is just that this is one of those events of which I am so furious that it has rendered me speechless-but only for now. |
| Act One Scene Two from my Obax and the Night-Riders ACT ONE, SCENE TWO (November 27, 1864. Nighttime. Lantern light. A Civil War Encampment. On a slight sloping rise, men in gray are camped. A few tents. Most of the soldiers lie wrapped in bedrolls, others walk about or crouch by fireside.) (Interior of largest tent. A folding table, a cot, three lanterns, two folding chairs. Maps cover table. Two lanterns on table, one on ground near cot. Outside, sounds of men settling down, feet shuffling, pots and pans clanking, cookfire flames hissing. Horses neigh softly, harness clanks occasionally. Someone sighs loudly.) (Two men stand on opposite sides of the map table, both in gray officer's uniform. One is a CONFEDERATE MAJOR, one is a CONFEDERATE CAPTAIN.) (THE CAPTAIN stands on far side of table, closer to rear tent wall. Tall, slender, blond- haired,but with dark eyes. Deep-voiced. in late twenties'. Freshly- shaven. Uniform is wrinkled but clean. Wearing forage cap. Has Robert Redford's height and appeal to women, but Ryan O'Neal's features and demeanor. Clearly he has just returned from a mission away, bearing dispatches, which he now hands to THE MAJOR.) THE MAJOR is shorter, stockier, with dark beard and sideburns, thinning black hair that is long, onto the collar of his dingy, grimy, unwashed uniform. His broad- brimmed gray felt hat is tilted back off his forehead, showing greasy strands of thinning black hair. Resembles in features and height a Southern version of British actor Oliver Reed. THE MAJOR appears to be a military man who has seen action, whereas across from him, THE CAPTAIN seems a dandy, a dilettante playing at an officer's role. THE MAJOR frowns down at maps on the table, while THE CAPTAIN smartly slaps stack of dispatches into his right hand. THE MAJOR points at one spot on map with left index finger and bends closer to view it, hiding his expression.) THE MAJOR: The men aren't ready for this, Judson. It's too soon after losing Atlanta-too soon. They're tired, they're weak, and what's worse, they're dispirited. (Downcast look settles over his features. He now looks much older than his fifty years. His discouragement is plain in both his expression and his mien, and in his speech.) THE MAJOR: We are all dispirited, Judson. (His voice trails off with the last two words to silence pregnant with unspoken meaning.) THE MAJOR: Judson-you left here early morning of the 23rd. Tonight's November 27. Son, I only sent you to Savannah to Major General Bradd's aide. (Suddenly raises head and stares up at THE CAPTAIN, piercingly, eyes snapping. He is willing to extend the benefit of the doubt, but is not very trustful that it will be possible.) THE CAPTAIN: Well. I took a little side trip and got some inside information. Went to Black-Moor Plantation, seen a fortune-teller. (Straightens, raps gloves in one hand against the palm of the other hand. Watches THE MAJOR closely.) Yanks be here before dawn, I bet you. Early. You're right, we won't be ready. THE MAJOR: No-they don't know this territory like we do. I think it will be daylight, maybe even not till noon. After all, we don't know how close they are, do we? Ain't sent out riders to find out. Afraid the men are better off not knowing how soon they're going to die. (Drops dispatches, clamps both hands over eyes. One sob is heard, a second stifled.) THE CAPTAIN: (Views THE MAJOR now with grave alarm. Looks down at the map, over to the dropped dispatches, back to THE MAJOR'S face, still covered by his hands.) Sir! I spoke to that Conjure-woman I told you about-Obax. That's where I went, why it took me longer. That old girl used to be a slave at Tallamassee. Remember? She sees things-sees the future. Everybody at Millsboro swears by her! My old GrandMammy knew Obax when she worked at Owans Plantation down by Ellabell, where my GranMammy was born. That was, oh roun' '95 or so, long time back. That Obax, she's an OLD woman. Was old when GranMammy was a child. But she KNOWS! She sure does Know-she told my Sister Ellajean when she'd marry and who, and sure 'nough that came true! (THE CAPTAIN is so enraptured by now with his tales about OBAX that he has forgotten the news he intended to impart: of OBAX'S predictions on the upcoming battle, the Battle of Buck Head Creek.) (THE MAJOR drops his hands from his face, and stares again at the spot on the map he had been viewing earlier. Once again, his left index finger traces a railroad line, then a creek. The creek runs west to east just below the slight rise on which the CONFEDERATE detachment is encamped. Their orders are to protect the railroad, a major supply line to Augusta, but THE MAJOR instead fears an all-out rout by superior numbers of UNION forces.) (THE MAJOR has become very peaked and looks quite ill. He is almost swaying on his feet. He appears like a man who himself has just had a terrible vision.) (Sounds of “Battle Hymn of the Republic” heard quietly in the background, sung in an aged, cracked, Negro voice: I have seen Him in the watch fires of a hundred circling camps They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps; I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps; His day is marching on. I have read a fiery Gospel writ in burnished rows of steel; “As ye deal with My contemners, so with you My grace shall deal”; His Truth is marching on! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His TRUTH is marching on.) THE MAJOR: (THE MAJOR speaks while still tracing the railroad line and the creek across the map, moving his index finger up toward the ridge on which they are currently encamped.) (Whispers.) And what did this conjure-woman tell you, Judson? This-OBAX. What did she say about tomorrow's battle? THE CAPTAIN: (For the first time, looks disconcerted and ill at ease. Stutters briefly. Leans against rickety table, then quickly straightens.) Er-er-that is-er-well, she said she saw a fierce battle, Sir. THE MAJOR: (Raises his eyes to THE CAPTAIN. Although his eyes are blue, suddenly they look like empty windows into nighttime.) What did she say, Captain? I need to know it- all. Tell me. THE CAPTAIN: (Gazes down at table again. Lowers voice to a near- whisper.) She said it would be deadly. Many would die on this ridge; said the blood would run like rivers down the slope and into Briar Creek. Few would live and those that could would run. END OF ACT ONE, SCENE TWO (Lights out.) |
| In celebration of the wonderful way the newest novel is flowing, I'm going to bring back the popular "Free Reading" each day (or most days!) So here is the beginning of my April 2010 Stage Play, the first (and only) Stage Play I've written: this runs through Act One, Scene One. Please note: formatting may not transfer perfectly. OBAX AND THE NIGHT-RIDERS A Stage Play in Four Acts epigram: Gentle Readers, any study of the era will plainly show us all that were it not for the “evil institution,” there would have been no Confederacy, and there would have been no immensely tragic loss of life, of property, of homes, no dissolution of families, no kin pitted one against the other over what was purported to be a “politicial issue.” The very institution against which reformers and abolitionists such as John Brown of Harper's Ferry, Virginia fame, William Lloyd Garrison, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Julia Ward Howe battled is an ugly, graphic, horrifying component of U.S. History which must not be forgotten, overlooked, nor omitted in our rush to glorify the antebellum past. The Confederacy was not all about pretty antebellum architecture, rolling meadows, fine gardens, and hoop skirts, Gentle Readers. Slavery made possible the creation of an unmerited upper class in the Southland, just as did serfdom and later servanthood in England (remember “Upstairs, Downstairs”). The Confederacy was built on the backs of downtrodden, whipped, beaten, raped immigrants whose emigration to the New World was involuntary and compelled. Let us pledge to never forget that. I wrote a poem some time back entitled “The Confederacy Never Died,” and I pray and hope that if “The South rises again,” it will not be in order to become the American South of the 18th, 19th, and first half of the 20th centuries. Saints preserve us from that. George Santayana reminded us a century ago that ”Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Historian Santayana also reminded us: "A country without a memory is a country of madmen." Compare that to this statement from Virginia Governor McDonnell in the original Proclamation: "there were any number of aspects to that conflict between the states. Obviously, it involved slavery. It involved other issues. But I focused on the ones I thought were most significant for Virginia." CHARACTERS: OBAX: a freed slave woman,135 years old. a conjure witch, like her Grandmere YITUBE NIGHTS OF THE PALE LOTUS: Reconstruction Era “freedom riders” self-styled; a pale but deadly offshoot of The Knights of the White Camellia formed in September 1867 Illiterate: do not understand “Knights” is spelled differently from “nights”.Locale: environs of Brunsmoor, Georgia, near The Swamp FIRST NIGHT-RIDER FIRST COMMANDER (ORIGINAL): Middle-aged (early fifties, stocky, muscular, thinning brown hair. High-pitched voice. Uncalloused hands. FIRST NIGHT-RIDER: FIRST COMMANDER. Tall, slender, but very strong. Deep-voiced. Controlling. SECOND NIGHT-RIDER: short, heavy-set. Easily amused. Frightened of FIRST NIGHT-RIDER. “Bobby” BOBBY YOAKES. Tenant farmer. THIRD NIGHT-RIDER: Tall but not as tall as FIRST NIGHT-RIDER. More slender. More intelligent than SECOND NIGHT-RIDER but also fears FIRST NIGHT-RIDER respectfully. “John” JOHN YANCEY (formerly WHITE OVERSEER, Tallamassee Plantion, Millsboro, Georgia. Now PLANTATION MANAGER, Black-Moor Plantation, Brunsmoor, Georgia) OAK: OBAX'S daughter-born 1750 BEECH: OAK'S eldest son WILLOW: OAK'S second son ROWAN: OAK'S third son WALTER: OBAX's 5-greats-grandson, field hand, Tallamassee Plantation, 1863; lynch victim, March 1870 THE MAJOR: Confederate States Of America,cavalry corps, Department of South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida THE CAPTAIN: Confederate States Of America,cavalry corps, Department of South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida. JUDSON HEATH WHITE OVERSEER: Tallamassee Plantation, Millsboro Georgia ALEC: field hand, Tallamassee Plantation, 1863 MASSA JOHN MATTIE: field hand, Tallamassee Plantation, 1863 TRULEE: field hand, Tallamassee Plantation, 1863 (offstage only) VONDA NEALM: white woman, living in town of Brunsmoor, South Georgia (aka Brunswick) Widow. 43 years of age. Husband HARRALD had been FIRST COMMANDER of Nights of the Pale Lotus until his death, at which time FIRST NIGHT-RIDER became FIRST COMMANDER. HARRALD NEALM: Deceased. Original FIRST COMMANDER of Nights of the Pale Lotus, founder with CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH and WHITE OVERSEER/PLANTATION MANAGER TIMELINE: 1805-OBAX, and great-grandchildren sold by OWANS PLANTATION at Ellabell, East Georgia, to TALLAMASSEE PLANTATION, at Millen, East Georgia 1816-THE MAJOR born, Savannah, Georgia, Society family, third cousin to Mr. Lacey, future father of VONDA LACEY, who will marry HARROLD NEALM 1829-HARRALD NEALM born, Brunsmoor, South Georgia, white son of Plantation Manager. Legitimate birth. 1840-THE CAPTAIN (JUDSON HEATH) born, son of an Overseer, South Carolina Low Country (Gullah slaves) 1841-VONDA NEALM born, Plantation, Mississippi; third cousin once removed to THE MAJOR. Meets THE CAPTAIN, with THE MAJOR, at a ball in Macon? Same as meeting with HARRALD NEALM, Jan. 1863 Debutante Ball 1861-April-War of Secession. THE MAJOR enlists, THE CAPTAIN enlists, JERROLD LACEY OF Mississippi, brother of VONDA, enlists 1862- 1863-January-Wesleyan College for Women Debutante Ball- VONDA NEALM encounters her third cousin THE MAJOR, and with him meets THE CAPTAIN and HARRALD NEALM, both of whom wish to court her VONDA LACEY meets HARRALD NEALM at WESLEYAN COLLEGE DEBUTANTE BALL, JANUARY 1863. HARRALD is very enamoured, wishes to court her, she demurs; her parents are dead (smallpox in the 1850's), her brother is Guardian but he is away fighting with the 1st Alabama Cavalry, not available yet to ask. She wishes to wait anyway to graduate in May 1863. Plantation, etc. in her family, she is the only survivor now.1-VONDA XYZY meets HARRALD NEALM at WESLEYAN COLLEGE DEBUTANTE BALL, JANUARY 1863. HARRALD is very enamoured, wishes to court her, she demurs; her parents are dead (smallpox in the 1850's,), her brother is Guardian but he is away fighting with the 1st Alabama Cavalry, not available yet to ask. She wishes to wait anyway to graduate in May 1863. -April-1-V 2-VONDA is called into REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK Rev. Finch's office-April 26 or 27, 1863. father dead at Battle for Bayou Pierre MS, April 2, 1863 father dead at Battle for Bayou Pierre MS, April 2, 1863 Her brother has been killed at the Battle of Tuscumbia, Alabama, April 24, 1863. So now she is alone, so THE MAJOR is sent a letter from Wesleyan REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK Rev. Finch to take over her guardianship. MAJOR then approves her engagement and subsequent marriage to HARRALD NEALM so she will be provided for, no more 3-Graduation of VONDA LACEY from Wesleyan Ladies' College-Scene Attendance by HARRALD NEALM, but possibly/probably not THE MAJOR OR THE CAPTAIN 4-WEDDING OF VONDA LACEY TO HARRALD NEALM at Macon, Georgia, CSA, with REVEREND PRESIDENT FISK RUFUS A. FISK giving away VONDA LACEY as her new Guardian, third cousin MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON is unable to attend. Check battles in May 1863. -May-Graduation of VONDA LACEY from Wesleyan Ladies' College. Keynote Speaker is Miz Prescelia June Leigh Hargrove of Twenty-three Oaks Plantation, Cameron's Crossing, South Alabama, CSA, and Amelia CourtHouse, Virginia, CSA. Graduate of Wesleyan Ladies' College 1857. Wife of Junior Dee Hargrove of Twenty-Three Oaks Plantation, Cameron's Crossing, South Alabama, who encounters MAJOR SHERROD LACEY NELSON and CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH via Confederate Army -May-Wedding of VONDA LACEY to HARRALD NEALM-Brunsmoor, South Georgia, CSA May-JOHN YANCEY transfers to TALLAMASSEE PLANTATION as WHITE OVERSEER from OWANS PLANTATION, Ellabell, East Georgia, after Owner of OWANS is killed at Battle of Bayou Pierre, MS, May 2, 1863 -August-WHITE OVERSEER whips OBAX, WALTER, in cotton field, morning after OBAX tells fortune in kitchen; TRULEE fatally injured in accident with harrow -late August-slave funeral for TRULEE, OBAX officiates, MATTIE, WALTER, ALEC present, WHITE OVERSEER conspicuously absent -early September-OBAX, WALTER, ALEC, MATTIE sold by Tallamassee Plantation, Millen, East Georgia, to BLACK-MOOR Plantation, Brunsmoor, South Georgia, at East Augusta GA Slave Market, AUCTIONEER HARRALD NEALM 1864-November- -24-THE CAPTAIN visits BLACK-MOOR PLANTATION, insists OBAX predict the outcome of the upcoming Battle of Buck head Creek -25-THE CAPTAIN visits his married lover VONDA NEALM in Brunsmoor, South Georgia -26-THE CAPTAIN rides to Savannah, GA to meet with General Bradd's aide and to collect dispatches for THE MAJOR -27-late evening, THE CAPTAIN returns to the CSA encampment on the ridge above Buck Head Creek. Scene between the CAPTAIN and THE MAJOR -28-BATTLE OF BUCK HEAD CREEK. Casualties, 600 CSA. THE MAJOR is killed -December-Brunsmoor, South Georgia-HARRALD NEALM forms NIGHTS OF THE PALE LOTUS, a reactionary NIGHT-RIDER faction. Includes BLACK-MOOR PLANTATION OVERSEER JOHN YANCEY (MASSA JOHN), THE CAPTAIN JUDSON HEATH, tenant farmer BOBBY YOAKES, 9 others 1865-April 9-surrender at Appomattox 1869-November-NIGHTS OF THE PALE LOTUS MEETING- Cross-Burning, HARRALD NEALM killed accidentally 1870-February-NIGHTS OF THE WHITE LOTUS MEETING- THE CAPTAIN (JUDSON HEATH) is now FIRST COMMANDER 1870-March-CROSS BURNING -Lynching of WALTER ACT ONE ACT ONE, SCENE ONE: (Lights up-dim.) Georgia, 1870, March ( Nighttime. Near swamp. Mist wafts low to ground in places. Low white buildings in stage right background, in poor repair. Former slave quarters for Black-Moor Plantation. Crickets sing in background. In the swamp a night bird screeches at locating its prey.) (An eight-foot cross burns in Stage Center foreground, at right angle to stage front, facing swamp to stage left. Cross is green wood smeared with pitch: it burns hot, burns bright, burns long.) (Lights down. Scene change. Lights up- dim.) (A tall black man stands in near foreground. His face is badly bruised, especially on forehead and cheekbones. His hair is closely cropped. His eyes are downcast but head is held erect. He wears only a white loincloth stained with sweat and blood. Behind his back his hands are restrained with two thick twists of wide hemp rope. His bare feet are crossed one over the other, with the right resting atop the left, in mockery of the Crucifixion.) (Lights down. Scene change. Lights up-dim.) (A stooped dark-complected elderly woman stands in the shadows among the swamp willows. Her white hair is close-cropped. Her face is heavily wrinkled,but her eyes are still very bright. Her expression is sad and downcast, yet determined. Tears make runnels on both her cheeks.) OBAX: Kain't save 'im. Kain't save 'im. He gone now. Walter. Too late. Like the rest. Walter gone. My baby lost. Kill 'em all! (OBAX sinks to knees, palms on dirt.) (Lights down. Lights up.) (Noose around WALTER'S throat, rope leading up to high branch. Several men cloaked in gray unbleached muslin, flat to head, two eye slits and two tinier nostril slits.) (FIRST NIGHT-RIDER kicks a barrel from behind WALTER toward WALTER'S feet. He and SECOND NIGHT-RIDER, a shorter, rotund, figure, force WALTER to back up against the barrel. His left foot bumps it and he stumbles, nearly falls.) (SECOND NIGHT-RIDER on WALTER'S left chortles, FIRST NIGHT-RIDER on his right growls at both.) FIRST NIGHT-RIDER: Shut up, you! Keep the noise down! There be howlin' enough here in a minute when we get him up on this barrel and yank on that rope. Don't need no constable out here! Now shut up and help me with this boy! (SECOND NIGHT-RIDER grumbles, then glances up and sees FIRST NIGHT-RIDER glare at him, subsides. Lifts WALTER'S feet backward and up on to the barrel, first left foot, then right foot. Barrel begins to tip, s hifting WALTER forward.) FIRST NIGHT-RIDER: (Grabs Walter around the knees to keep him from tipping forward off the barrel.) CATCH HIM, YOU ASS! We're not hangin' him till we hang him. You almost lost him there. SECOND NIGHT-RIDER: Wal, he'd just hang anyway did he fall. FIRST NIGHT-RIDER: AND I SAID NO! Now shut up and do as you were told, or it'll go all the worse for you when we're done over here! SECOND NIGHT-RIDER: (Visibly shakes and quivers. Looks away from FIRST NIGHT- RIDER. Straightens barrel under WALTER'S feet. Kicks a large stone from nearby so that it rests against the front of the barrel for better balance. (VOICEOVER) OBAX: NOOOOO! STOP! SAVE MY BABY! NOOOOOOO! (inarticulate wailing) FIRST NIGHT-RIDER: Y'all! (Releases one arm from around WALTER'S knees. Waves left arm in a horseshoe arc to summon six other NIGHT-RIDERS, standing at a distance. They all move forward eagerly and quickly.) (Addresses SECOND-NIGHT RIDER.) Where's the pitch, Bobby? SECOND NIGHT-RIDER: You said NO names! FIRST NIGHT-RIDER: (Voice drops alarmingly to a very low pitch. Eyes glitter.) Where is the PITCH? SECOND NIGHT-RIDER: (Looks away from FIRST NIGHT- RIDER, toward Stage Left, in the direction of the Swamp. Right index finger points to barrel.) FIRST NIGHT-RIDER: (Hisses) Ah din't hear you, BOBBY. SECOND NIGHT-RIDER: (Whispers) In the barrel. FIRST NIGHT-RIDER: (Growling) You stood the nigger on top of the barrel of pitch? (Shouts) Bobby, you a godforsaken fool! (SECOND NIGHT-RIDER:winces) FIRST NIGHT-RIDER: (softly, addressing THIRD NIGHT-RIDER) John-get me the torch. NOW. (THIRD NIGHT-RIDER runs off Stage Right rear, toward former slave quarters. Returns with a thick wooden branch, blazing on one end.) (FIRST NIGHT-RIDER reaches for the torch. THIRD NIGHT-RIDER hands it over, thankfully.) FIRST NIGHT-RIDER: John, you and Bobby take the end of the rope. Pull it on my signal-ONLY on my signal. (THIRD NIGHT-RIDER AND SECOND NIGHT-RIDER move to Stage Left, behind Walter and beyond the huge oak tree. Both reach for the tail end of the rope, which has been looped across a long branch, and whose noose is tight around WALTER'S neck. They stand waiting, watching FIRST NIGHT-RIDER for direction.) FIRST NIGHT-RIDER: (Glances at THIRD NIGHT-RIDER and SECOND-NIGHT RIDER to assure that they stand in place, on either side of the rope's end, holding it tightly.) John-on my direction. (Looks up at WALTER, who now is staring off into the distance Stage Left, still refusing to meet anyone's gaze.) Any “famous last words,” nigger? (WALTER remains silent.) FIRST NIGHT-RIDER: THEN DIE, YOU BLACK DEVIL! DIE! (Touches torch end to the bottom of the barrel of pitch to ignite it. Intending the pitch to ignite and burn before the hanging, he stares at the barrel fixedly, not giving directions nor motioning to THIRD NIGHT-RIDER and SECOND NIGHT-RIDER to act yet.) (High-pitched howling rises from Far Stage Right. Resembles mountain lion, prevalent in this Swamp.) (SECOND NIGHT-RIDER twitches at the howling, yanks rope unintentionally, causing THIRD- NIGHT RIDER to stumble, also pulling on rope. WALTER'S body flies up, his neck broken, just as barrel of pitch finally ignites. WALTER'S corpse begins to burn, but WALTER is already dead of a broken neck, immediately and almost painlessly.) END OF ACT ONE, SCENE ONE (Lights out. Scene change. ) |
| Fantasy art partriarch Frank Frazetta has died at age 82 of a stroke. Mr. Frazetta's illustrations defined for more than one generation the “sword-and-sorcery” subgenre of fantasy, yet he himself stated he did not take his art from the stories. For readers though, the novels and the art were coherent and resonant. Later he expanded into illustration for album covers and Hollywood. Mr. Frazetta's wife, Ellie, passed just last year. A bizarre incident occurred with one of his sons, who hired a backhoe to raze a wall of the castle-type building surrounding Mr. Frazetta's stored art collection on his estate in Pennsylvania. http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/news/music/la-me-frank-frazetta-20100511,0,... I am very happy with the current progress on the newest novels,
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| Another Tragic loss for Music is the death at age 92 of singer Lena Horne, an African-American, and female, who broke barriers and helped usher in a new era of human rights Lena, we know you're singing on the Night Shift now! RIP Lena Horne-we honour your memory and extol your contributions http://www.latimes.com/news/obituaries/la-me-horne-20100510,0,1501683,full.story... http://voices.washingtonpost.com/postmortem/ |
| Good news on the Writing Front, Gentle Readers! First of all, WDC Frontliners
of which I am proudly Activity Coordinator, is deep in the throes of planning new and exciting activities! Look for information on upcoming contests-poetry and short story!-and later in the Summer, your very own Archie Standwood (myself) will be facilitating a workshop for all you novelists and novel-writers-to-be, using Karen Wiesner's First Draft in 30 Days. Now I know that the Novel Workshop offered a workshop on that book in April, so many of you may have participated there. I did! But I own the book, and am using it to outline my current series of Civil War Novels. Even though the book recommends 30 days (and the author sets aside a week for research) we are going to teach it as a 6- or 8-week Workshop. Great fun, yes?! On my personal Writing Front, I am ecstatic because my Creative Muse has come through once again. As I have related here often, I wrote a Stage Play April 1-15 set February 1870 back to November 1863 and forward, and that inspired me to write a series set in the American Civil War/War of the Rebellion and in Reconstruction which followed. Using Ms. Wiesner's book, I outlined and planned, did hours a day every day of research reading till the Civil War began to spill out of my ears, and started writing Book One on May 2. Well, the pump was primed; not freshly painted but still a nice, not-flaking black iron, and apparently oiled, because I had no trouble working the pump. The problem came every time I pulled up a bucket of water from my Creative Well. 4 days were required to write Chapter One and Chapter Two, and the water in the well was covered with green moss and stagnant-in other words, not good writing. I despaired. Then in yet another long sleepless night last night an idea came. I took the concepts from my Stage Play, moved that first scene-in my mind-to a novel format, and began to write. Today the writing is flowing! It's visual, it's sensory, it's realistic and relevant, and yes-it's dark. I knew that was what I had been missing-dark! And I knew also that I was trying to write a straight historical, and not my trademark “haunted historical.” And that just doesn't work for me. And Gentle Readers-I do not recommend starting three sentences consecutively with “and,” as just I did.  But hey! I'm writing, it's flowing, I am a novelist once again! Boy howdy!!! |
| A breakthrough for me today on Book One of The Civil War Series-Remembrance at Morning. I began writing on the novel itself! A partially sleepless night last night (one of the many) had me wide awake and considering character sketches. I thought of some more to add to the character sketch I had worked on yesterday; then I planned out two more characters in detail. All three of these are characters who first appeared in the Stage Play I wrote April 1-15 for Script Frenzy, so mainly they needed only fleshing out, connections (between each other and to others within the Play), and backstory. I also thought of some further settings, and some additional characters (after all, these folks did not spring full-grown from the forehead of Zeus, as did Minerva; so they surely had to have parents. In two of the cases (The Major and The Captain) I decided that their parentage is going to be really significant, both in forming their characters and in providing their external and internal conflicts. In fact, in the case of The Captain, portions of his parentage are going to lead potentially to damaging external conflicts and will directly affect at least one other character. So you see I am still somewhat working along the lines of Karen Wiesner's First Draft in 30 Days. All day today, despite five hours from mid-morning to mid-afternoon battling a sudden, unexpected, and debilitating allergy (apparently pollen or something similar-as it affected sinuses, vision, and thinking processes, and only ended when I moved my location away from the line of shrubs bordering the yard) I read, for research and for pleasure, Edward Ball's excellent nonfiction generational saga, Slaves in the Family. I cannot highly enough recommend this book. I am only 100 or so pages into the more than 400-page book, but I have tons of notes and am learning so much, and marvelling. Excellent background for my own upcoming novels. One interesting point I learned today is that English philosopher John Locke, so acclaimed (in fact, North Carolina has a think tank institute bearing his name) condoned slavery and even wrote provision for enslavement into the formal legal contracts he prepared for his employer, Lord Ashley Cooper (whose names were given to Charleston's two rivers). Lord Cooper was one of the prime investors in The Lords Proprietors, the group which funded English immigration to Carolina, as it was then called (South Carolina as we know it today-Charles Town, now Charleston). Proposition 110 of The Fundamental Constitutions as created by John Locke read: “Every Freeman of Carolina, shall have absolute power and authority over Negro Slaves, of what opinion or Religion soever.” and at a later date Locke wrote, any person who “attempts to get another Man into his Absolute Power, does thereby put himself into a State of War with him.” |
| Intending to blog daily this month. Now that MarNoWriMo finished (March Novel Writing Month) and April Script Frenzy, now that I am STILL planning, cogitating, researching, and outlining my The Civil War Series, inspired by characters from the April Stage Play written for Script Frenzy, I ought to have time to blog daily. Yes? Who am I kidding? It was the Stage Play that exhausted me; in March, I wrote upwards of 2500 words a day, finishing a novel I began Dec. 9, writing its sequel March 1-22, and writing 20 chapters of a third in that series March 23-31. But at any rate, I intend to blog daily from now on-partially to keep up with the principle of
 . So I think now that rather than blog just about current events (unless something fires me up, which happens so very often!) I shall blog on my Writing Process and updates.In addition to doing research for The Civil War Series, which now seems to be going for four volumes rather than three, I have been reading: Anne Bishop- Pillars of the World/Tir Alain Trilogy Book One Sebastian-Ephemera Book One The Black Jewels Trilogy Laurie R. King- The Language of Bees (2009 entry in her Mary Russell/Sherlock Holmes Series) upcoming: Anne Bishop- House of Galann /Tir Alain Book Three Belladonna/Ephemera Book Two and many, many books on The American Civil War, the antebellum years (Abolition and Slavery) and Reconstruction. For those who would like to read the Stage Play that started this series, here is the bitem link:
Please do remember this is the original, unedited, untouched version. Here is the current proposed Civil War Series: THE CIVIL WAR SERIES BOOK ONE: REMEMBRANCE AT MORNING 1854-end of 1859 (Debutante Ball)
BOOK TWO: BEFORE NIGHTFALL January 1859-November 1863 BOOK THREE: ? ? ? ? ? ? JANUARY 1864 (Cornerstone, Confederate Armory, Macon)-NOVEMBER 1869 (Crossburning, Death of Harrald Nealm) BOOK FOUR: THE LAST ACT FEBRUARY 1870-? (RECONSTRUCTION) |
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