Writers as Time Travelers
I’m thrilled to host my friend and fellow Wisconsin writer, Tracy Helixon on the blog today. Our circles overlap so many times, it’s hard to keep track. Tracy and I teach writing at Western Technical College and are wives to collegiate coaches of spring seasons. (Her husband coaches softball and mine, baseball… so we both also spend a fair ammount of time at the ball field.) We both write feel-good fiction for women and books for kids. We are both members of SCBWI and MVWG. It’s no wonder we are friends!
In addition to sharing Tracy’s insight and writer wisdom today, I’m excited to celebrate the release of her newest book! After you read today’s post, click here to sign up for her virtual launch event and learn how you can snag a copy of her Irish inspired book, Fields of Promise. Congratualtions Tracy and best of luck to you and your launch on a very fitting St. Patrick’s Day!
Once upon a time, I sat on a rock. And it changed my life.
The rock was on a bay in Ireland. When the tide came in, that rock was the only one left uncovered on the shore. I can’t remember how many times I climbed it during the four months I spent living and studying there, but I do remember soaking it in every single time. The crash of the waves. The cool, damp seaside air. The smells of fish and salt water. The unique blend of colors in each and every sunset. Nearly thirty years later, memories of my time in Ireland are still with me. In fact, my historical romance, Fields of Promise, would not exist without them.
As a fiction writer, I get to be a time-traveler, constantly jumping back and forth between the world I’m creating on the page and the real-world experiences that inspired it.
Care to join me?
Life Experience
In Ireland, we lived in tiny seaside cottages heated with peat fireplaces and coin-operated electricity. Once in a while, we forgot to put coins in the meter and would find ourselves suddenly sitting in the dark! A couple miles down the road from our cottages stood Spiddal, a Gaelic-speaking village in County Galway.
Scene in Fields of Promise
Iowa, 1890
Half-way down the field, the horses brayed, stopped, dug in their hooves, and snorted. Katherine Murphy, however, kept going. In fact, her own momentum nearly launched her over the top of the hand-held plow. She tightened her grip on the handles to steady herself, then pushed her heels in the soil, snapped the reins, and urged the animals forward. They did not budge.
What now? She gripped the handles tight enough to make her knuckles shake. If sheer will could propel the plow forward, they’d be at the end of the field by now. Katherine huffed out a frustrated breath and let go. She wiped beads of sweat from her forehead, then placed her hands above her hips. A gust of wind billowed her white blouse and long tan skirt.
“Spiddal and Galway!” she scolded. Da had named the horses after two of their beloved Irish towns. “Stubborn as mules, you are!” She tugged off her work glove and placed the side of a blistered palm inside her mouth to soothe it. How would Da solve this?
She pictured him, tall and strong, standing where she was now. In the distance, a simple wooden cross marked his resting place. Each square inch of the land whispered his memories.
“I’m keeping my promise, Da,” she muttered. Her thoughts wandered back to the day she had made that promise.
Still with me? Okay, one more!
Life Experience
I never would have traveled to Ireland without the influence of my Irish-American grandparents. My grandfather was the son of an Irish immigrant from County Donegal. Grandma’s family came from County Cork.
As newlyweds, my husband and I made a six-hour trip to spend a week with Grandma and Grandpa in their small town of Onawa, Iowa – a town that helped inspire the setting for Fields of Promise. One summer night, we sat around the kitchen table with Grandma and Grandpa and asked how they met.
They both agreed that they first saw each other inside the town mercantile. Grandpa shared that Grandma had a kerosene can, plugged with a potato piece instead of a cork. Grandma, however, was quite adamant that she would never. The playful argument went back and forth for a few minutes before Grandpa ended it with one simple statement: “You had a potato.”
I still have the notes from that night, scratched in pen on a paper plate because it was the first thing I could find when I realized the treasures I was hearing.
Scene in Fields of Promise
Mr. Jakobsen . . . turned back to Katherine. “I’ve filled your kerosene can. And here is a new piece of licorice for Timothy. We can’t have him eating one that rolled about on the floor.”
“Thank you for that kindness, Mr. Jakobsen.”
“You are welcome, Miss Katherine. And with the eggs you brought in today, you still have a credit balance on your account. Do say hello to your mother for me. May I help you take these things out to your buggy?”
The stranger rushed to the counter. “Please, let me–.” Suddenly, he stopped talking and stared curiously at the kerosene can.
Looking down at the can herself, Katherine felt her face flush, then scolded herself for caring half a penny about what this stranger thought.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but right there, plugging the top of your can—well, it doesn’t look like the corks we used before they brought the electricity to us in New York. Do folks use something different around these parts?”
“No. Most folks here use cork, too.”
The stranger looked at the can more closely. “Is this some new kind of cork, then?”
Had he truly asked about this? How was she to help it if her cork had been misplaced? “No. It would be a potato piece. You do have potatoes out in New York now, don’t ye?”
This time, the man’s face flushed. “Of course, we do. I’ve just never seen one used to plug a kerosene can, that’s all.”
“Right. Well, it’s called resourcefulness. Something we’re quite familiar with here in Iowa. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am most capable of carrying these things to my buggy, and I must get to it before this storm blows in.”
And with that, she gathered her things, turned on her heels, and marched out the mercantile door.
So, there you have have it. Time travel! For me, it’s one of the very best parts of being a writer. Thanks for coming along! I posted two more examples of time travel on my author Facebook page today. I hope you’ll stop by! Click here to find Fields of Promise, published by the Winged Publications Forget Me Not Romance line.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
America, 1880: After the death of her beloved father, Irish immigrant Katherine Murphy is consumed by one singular goal. She will keep her promise to protect the family and save their Iowa homestead.
Worlds away in New York City, Jonathan Schoon’s controlling father has groomed him to take over the family business, a stifling future that gives Jonathan neither peace nor purpose. This summer, he will have one last adventure. During a visit with Uncle Heinrick on the Schoon family farm in Iowa, he plans to make enough memories to last a lifetime.
When Katherine meets Jonathan in the town mercantile, she refuses to let the handsome city boy distract from her promise to Da. But when love unfolds, both must make heart-wrenching decisions, all while summer’s clock is ticking. Fields of Promise is a heartwarming story of family, community, faith, and purpose.
Tracy Helixon began her writing career at age five, when her parents found her writing all over her little brother. When they asked why, the answer was simple: "Timmy thought he was a piece of paper." Clearly, her stories started early! To Timmy's relief, Tracy now uses a computer to write. Along with writing stories for children, she also teaches writing and speech at a two-year college in Wisconsin.
Tracy is a passionate teacher and award-winning author who seeks out creativity, goodness, and chocolate and can't stop smiling each time she finds it. Her first picture book, Little Isaac's BIG Adventure (2012), won a Literary Classics International Book Award. Her historical fiction chapter book, Caleb's Lighthouse (2017), was described by reviewer Rosi Hollinbeck as "an early middle grade book that is about as sweet as they come." Tracy's debut novel, Fields of Promise (Winged Publications, 2021) is a Christian historical romance inspired by her adventures in Ireland and her own Irish-American family. Learn more at www.tracyhelixon.com .
Tracy's favorite things include books; travel; church; sunny days; rainy days; crunchy, colorful fall leaves; Christmas tree lights; family adventures; Ireland; and chocolate chip mint ice cream.
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