Writing Life

For this month’s blog post I’ve had to summon up all my courage. All my life I’ve been a performer of one kind or another. I was a teacher for many years, I became a writer after leaving teaching and I’ve had a great time speaking about my books and the history they allude to in the years since.

But a few days ago I had to reach deep down inside myself to answer the request of a dear friend to perform one of my own songs at her and her husband’s 50th anniversary celebration. Since I lost one of my sisters a few years ago I just haven’t done much singing so the old voice is not what it once was. Nevertheless I thought I would share with you the performance.

I was inspired to write this song because of my mother. You’ll hear that in the words I’ve written.

All of us have the choice at times during our lives to step up or to hide our light under the proverbial bushel. Most times I think people should step up. These feelings of fear we all have. And we have to learn to overcome them, don’t we?

I remember encouraging my kindergarten age daughter to learn the poem she was supposed to perform for her class. She was very shy but she did it and it helped her sing the next year in the music festival. That success showed her that she could perform and now she earns her living running her own business training in person or electronically and so much more. She’s even written her own book, Design to Engage.

A few weeks ago Beth invited the four of us in our nuclear family to take part in her podcast episode, Being Lifelong Learners, and she facilitated her brother, her father, her mother and herself discussing that topic. It was a delight to take part and–here comes the mother in me–to feel so proud of who our children have become.

So the least I could do was get up and sing one of my own songs when my friend, Olive, asked me.

My hope is that each of you who reads this post will take the step to try whatever you’re a little nervous about. Many will not have the courage but, believe me, there are rewards for pushing yourself in this way. Maybe this will be your New Year’s resolution. And maybe you will be inspired to encourage someone else to reach for their particular star.

Happy New Year, Everyone!

Yesterday I visited the foyer of the county building in downtown Woodstock ON to look over the offerings of historical books on sale there. Wow! I found some gems. Here is one that interested me as I had researched Thomas Ingersoll, the father of Laura Secord Ingersoll, when I was writing the third Loyalist book. And, of course I grew up four miles north of Ingersoll so feel a little wrapped up in that history. I look forward to reading more about those times a couple of hundred years ago.

Here is The Oxford Gazetteer, 1852. I love the old-fashioned hard cover with the county of Oxford crest on it. Way back, Oxford District was a huge tract of land in what is now southern Ontario. Once enough land was settled those districts were broken up into villages, towns and eventually cities as well as the townships and counties that we know today. The city of Woodstock is the county seat of present-day Oxford County and the book sale was held in the new county building on Peel Street in downtown Woodstock. Oxford County is known for its rich farmland and Woodstock prides itself in being the Dairy Capital of Canada.

I was excited to see this book by John Toll as it is about the tornado that devastated parts of Oxford County in 1979. It was August and my parents had been away on a trip to Europe so they missed all the excitement. When we picked them up from the airport a couple of days after the tornado, we pointed out the fields of corn that had been flattened and were now beginning to rise again. Yes, the corn stocks, about 5 or 6 feet high had been laid flat and we thought they were done. No. Immediately after the tornado the stocks began to lift in curving arcs. Every day they made their way back to growing straight again. I don’t remember how long it took for that process to be completed but the corn crop in September was pretty normal.
Another memory I have of that is the terror that night of not knowing what had happened to the Bimini summer camp where our young son was. There was no telephone to the camp so I called my brothers who lived nearby to get news. They told me exactly just where the tornado strip had been. Thankfully it did not include that camp out in the woods with all those children there for the week.
It will be fun to get someone else’s take on the tornado of 1979 right here in Oxford County.

I’ve lived a good part of my life in southern Ontario but never did I know about the historical swampy land we now live on. Apparently the building of dams tamed the natural waters and made all the wonderfully rich farmland possible. The Village That Straddled a Swamp talks about some of that. I am excited to learn more. By the time I was growing up in the 60s and 70s the land was as it is today. Thanks to research for my books I learned what the land was like 300 years ago here. I’m interested to put my own memories to the test as I read this beautifully illustrated book by Doug Symons.

The importance of such groups as historical societies, museums, archival organizations and other such associations came again to my mind as I leafed through Honouring Oxford: Memorials and Cenotaphs of the Great War. It is a collection of photos, names, and stories of those who fought in what was then called the Great War but came to be known as World War I. Just when we wonder if our history is in danger of being bulldozed to make way for “progress” this book appears. I even found Embro there and a photo of the cenotaph where I as a Girl Guide stood in the wind and snow giving my salute to those fallen heroes. All of the memorials in the county are included in this lovely book, recently published.

I like to think that my historical fiction tells our history in a different way. I take the events and people of history and create fictional characters who might have lived in that time. I also have had an interesting time writing of Ron Calhoun in The Man Behind the Marathons. It’s history of a different sort. And my latest book, My Story, My Song tells a little of what it was like to grow up in the 50s and 60s here in southern Ontario.

All of these books (available on Amazon, Audible, Kobo and Kindle) go a long way to keeping our history alive.

A couple of days ago I was reminded that Remembrance Day is almost upon us when a friend posted a lovely performance on Facebook. Ted Comiskey is the man who wrote and performed Red Petalled Flower. He encourages people to watch, listen and download his amazing composition.

I recognized the setting behind him. That’s one of the famous Harvard airplanes from WWII and they are housed with great care at Tillsonburg Airport, close to where I live. You can actually fly in one on certain special days (if you have the fee.)

I clicked to start Ted’s performance. Quietly his voice took my attention and the video started. I thought of my three uncles who fought in the Second World War; one of them did not come home. All my life I’ve experienced that loss on more Remembrance Days than I can remember; but still the stories and the songs and the photos and the movies and “In Flanders Fields” touch deep inside me. My writer’s imagination means I feel, and feel deeply, the pain of all those who lived through that time.

As a Girl Guide I stood at attention at the cenotaph in my small village and witnessed the wreaths being placed against the grey monument. As a high school student I dressed in my cadet uniform complete with black tights and crisp white blouse to stand rigid in the long centre hall of Woodstock Collegiate while the trumpet played. As an adult I stood by the cenotaph wherever we lived and watched the grey-haired veterans march from the past to salute their comrades who did not survive. In many different churches I sang the hymns and heard McCrae’s immortal words:

“Take up our quarrel with the foe: 
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.”

And now we are here again. In November. As the winds and falling leaves begin their chorus. Every warm breeze is a gift. Winter stalks us all. And two days from now is Remembrance Day. I press the key to start the video. Music is always my deepest way to feel. The voice is soft but strong…

And now I share it with you.

Click on the image below:

This year I will be at the cenotaph again watching my sister do her duty as Woodstock’s Silver Cross mother. Her son fought in Afghanistan and, though he came home, he was damaged forever after. Andrew Jackson died a few months ago at 37, a casualty of that war and the PTSD it gave him. I’ll be thinking of my sister’s family and of all the families with similar stories. And I’ll wear my red poppy.

Now play the song again and think of all of the red petalled flowers all over the world.

“How Do You Do It?”

That question often meets me as I come away from the podium. So often, in fact, that I thought I’d write about how I accomplish what I do regarding my writing.

I have always loved to write so that is a given but when I left teaching and my son prompted me about just when I was going to write a novel, I got serious. The most important thing I did was spend time on writing every day. First it was in writing journal entries, and I have books of them written by hand and on my computer.

Then I got the idea to write stories from my childhood for posterity. My partner in crime for all those years, my brother, told me they weren’t exactly how he remembered the stories. That was a lesson for me–we all remember things differently. My Version then led me to writing about my husband’s and my early married years before we had children and then when those kids were young.

Along about the same time I was writing my own music and I put together a book of my own songs, Songs From My Heart, a couple of which found their way into my latest published book, My Story, My Song. Notice how well-thumbed the pages are!

These songs helped me hone my use of words in my writing, a skill that has helped tremendously in my books. Below are my current six books already published. I keep them on my shelf so I can smile and look at them when I need a little encouragement.

Here are a bunch of advertising bookmarks, playing cards, and handout cards, as well as flash drives which contain the copies of my books in audio format. That was another thing I learned to do by doing–almost all of my books are not only e-books and print books, they are also audio books on Audible.

A few books I found for research. I bought many books but I borrowed many more from various libraries, online and in-person.

I talked to speakers at every writing conference I went to, and still do. I learned to be brave in contacting them and learning from them. I blogged about their sessions and I sent each of them the link to my work. They were excellent for teaching me new things I needed to know. I only had one I had trouble with.

That person had spoken about her practices in building her audience. One of her habits was to be controversial on her blog post. I wrote a nice piece about what she had taught me and she commented on the post in a nasty tone saying I’d left something out. I can’t remember exactly what but I knew what she was doing–trying to create controversy. That is not who I am so I took control. I took my post down in which I had praised her. That meant her nasty comment was gone, too.

I bought a white board and set up my own version of a KanBan board. 

I have 3 columns: To Do/Work in Progress/Done. And I use sticky notes to move between the columns. I noticed that I have to update my Work in Progress column as I have many more things I’m working on. (My husband bought me the wonderful imagine sign!)

I contacted many groups to offer my services as a speaker/writer/author, at first for free, but eventually for a fee and the agreement that I could sell my books there. To this day I sell a lot of books when I go out and speak and include a couple of readings in my talk. It’s also a lot of fun.

I pick cliffhangers and parts that grab the readers’ attention, hoping they’ll need to know what happened. One of my favourite sections has Lucy waking up in bed to a sound in the cabin where she is by herself. She is screaming her husband’s name. I end the chapter with “She flew up in the dark. Someone was in the room.” (The Loyalist’s Wife.)

Every time I get a new idea for marketing I forge ahead. Sometimes, I decide not to do it. Just as with social media, you have to pick only the platforms that work for you. I use Facebook, both my main account and my author page, I have an Amazon author page and several others of that type and I use LinkedIn. Early on, I used Twitter a lot to find out who knew what I had to learn but I’ve moved away from that, now. I investigated doing a podcast but decided the time and money involved was not for me at this time in my career. I’ve been following my daughter’s journey in that regard and it is fascinating. She (Beth Cougler Blom) is launching her podcast as we speak. Here’s the link.

Many more ideas come to me but these will get you thinking. Just make sure you do something every day for a specified amount of time–researching, writing, editing, advertising, or connecting with other writers. It’s the regular habit that will make you no longer a wannabe writer but one with credits to your name and money in your bank account. Good Luck! You can do it!

Just now I have 3 writing projects percolating around in my brain. One of them is in production, with lots of writers submitting stories for my new anthology, Canada: Brave New World. Exciting. You can tell I know what that book is about. [Click the title to see the details.]

Another idea is a story about the Loyalists who settled in Nova Scotia before Canada was even a country. I’ve written the first chapter in this one but I feel bogged down. That means I need to rethink it. So I’m busy researching and getting the time lines down in my brain. My other Loyalist book series starts during the revolutionary war but I wanted to start this one when the ships carrying Loyalists away from the conflagration in the thirteen colonies arrive in Nova Scotia. Trouble is I need to have the drama of the war in the book. Still thinking and reading and coming up with fab characters.

The third book in my head comes from my need to help other writers. I’ve been the recipient of loads of authors’ wisdom as I’ve travelled this road for real. All those writing conferences, author guest speakers, how-to articles, writing magazines, and in-person answers to my queries have helped me along the way. I really want to help others in the same way. The teacher in me is considering the best road to take with that. It may be a bit of a how-to book but the actual format is eluding me just now. Meanwhile, you can check out my past blog posts on this site or on my earlier ones. My journey is there for all to see. [https://elainecougler.wordpress.com/ and http://beadergirl.blogspot.com/search/label/Writing%20Travails]

So What is My Book About?

This is the most important question for this author to ask herself. We authors need to be bubbling over with enthusiasm about our new books in advance. The plot, the characters, the places we set all of that must all make us anxious to just get writing! If we as authors are emotionally involved that will come out in the writing and will be transferred to readers.

When I told the story in my second book of Lucy’s child falling into a deep hole, I cried as the words went from my typing fingers to the computer screen. The emotion I felt was utter sadness.

As Lucy watched, the earth slipped slowly away but soon began to go faster and faster. “Nooo!” she cried and sprang for the hole but the sergeant held her back. “Let me go,” she cried just as the whole side collapsed and all of them had to jump away. Sergeant Crawford held her against his chest so tightly that she couldn’t see, couldn’t move, but couldn’t help her child either. She struggled and struggled against him until his arms released her and she turned to look.

Earth flew in all directions as shovels dug and tossed, dug and tossed, and the women—Lucy and Nellie both—knelt side by side on the ground raking their bare hands back and forth over the ground and flinging the muck behind them in a desperate drive to open the hole again. But it was no use. Each time they had the hole dug down a short distance, the sides gave way and more earth tumbled in. There was no sound but the shovels scratching on stones, the ragged breathing of the men, and the low moaning sobs of Lucy, and now Nellie, beside her.

They worked and they sweated, not stopping a moment, until the sergeant stepped away from the others. Lucy glanced up but her bloodied hands went right on flinging gobs of earth and stones behind her. The other shovels stopped. And Nellie sat back. The silence was broken only by the soft plops of dirt hitting the ground behind Lucy. She blocked out the others from her thoughts. I must save him. I must, I must, I must. In her desolate world she heard only her own words as she dug and threw, over and over. Her boy’s life depended on her.

“Lucy.”

From somewhere far off the soft voice broke into her painful prison. Hands stilled her arms and she struggled against them. “Lucy.” A different voice, deeper, the tones ringed with sorrow. “Come away, Lucy.” He pulled her to her feet but she began to fall. Quickly Sergeant Crawford’s arm circled her and he held her to his chest. She dropped her head against him and gave up. [This happens early in The Loyalist’s Luck by Elaine Cougler]

I knew that if I was crying as I wrote this, my readers would be totally engaged as they read it. Their emotions would be awakened and they would feel for Lucy and her child as though they were in this situation themselves with their own child. And just so you know, when I looked this up to read again as I worked on this blog post, the tears came once more.

More Writing Ideas I Use

What is the protagonist’s secret? Develop the protagonist at the beginning. I personally like heroes/heroines who are upright and have characteristics I can admire. They must also have some foibles as perfect people are not realistic. We can identify with a character’s negative characteristics.

Give him/her a reason why he/she does a certain thing. You must know what this reason is even if you do not let your readers know for some time.

Stakes are crucial to your story. Why do I care? Why would anyone care? Readers need to be able to identify with the hero and also with the situation. I care because I can imagine what the hero’s problem would be like or I’ve even experienced it myself.

Develop an opening sentence that draws in the reader and ends with a bit of a hook. I still like the one I used for my second book. “Crossing the gray river seemed such a short journey, only a few hundred feet. But Lucinda Garner was fleeing from all she knew.”

And so we must know what our theme is, what our book is about. Once we know that, finding the plot details, the right characters, and the setting will come naturally and underline the central theme. It’s like picking the outfit we want to wear and emphasizing its attractions with the right chain, the perfect neck tie, the matching shoes.

So for each of those books I’m contemplating I will once again think about the points above. And I hope you will, too.

There are books upon books that I have read and enjoyed over the growing number of my reading years, and I am thankful for them. Then there are a select few that have moved my heart, my brain, indeed my whole being throughout the reading of them and for years afterwards. Once Upon a Wardrobe is one such book.

Building on C.S. Lewis, his brother and his books, Patti Callaghan’s story of a young student and her ailing brother searching for answers to their questions about The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe presents a new discovery with every page turn.

I loved it. I just wanted to lose myself in Callaghan’s creation. And for long periods I did. These characters are so believable yet so easily recognizable as utterly unique that I wonder just how it is that I can identify with Megs, a math whiz, and her little brother, George, so easily.

This is a story to carry into that secret part of you where ideas blend and wonder predominates. It is a story that will make you think and feel and smile and long for it to go on and on. It is a story that will make you weep. I must go read it again! (first published on Goodreads)

Call for Submissions to My Coming Anthology: Canada: Brave New World. Entries due by November 1, 2022: Click for Information.

For links to buy Elaine’s books, click here.

Westfield Heritage Village first opened to the public in 1964. It was the culmination of the work of two teachers who purchased 30 acres of Ontario farmland near Rockton, Ontario and started collecting historic buildings. They didn’t grow corn or soybeans or wheat or any other modern crops. They laid out a collection of antique buildings in the form that our ancestors might have used when they first came here a couple of hundred years ago or more. Unlike our ancestors they planted trees rather than clearing the land of huge virgin forests. And they started Westfield Heritage Village.

Here is the gift shop which is off to the left as you enter the huge plot of land which is much larger than 30 acres today. We saved that for the end of our tour.

We walked on. The day was pleasantly warm with cool breezes around every corner. Several of the buildings were staffed with volunteers and we were impressed with their knowledge and their enthusiasm for the facility. Not all of the buildings were open as the fear of Covid has slowed the return of volunteers but hopefully the village will soon be up to full volunteer staff.

The volunteer in this building explained that the large room we were in basically was where the family lived. A stairway upstairs and a couple of side rooms completed the home.

We sat on a bench in this lovely bandstand/meeting place and waited for our tour to begin. Our forefathers didn’t spend a lot of time cutting grass and the grass in the village was mostly ‘au naturel’.

This drug store looked like Dr. Beattie would be seeing patients and dispensing medicines if we just opened the door. I wondered if this was a fresh build as it looked pretty new.

The most popular attraction was the steam engine, the pride of the Toronto, Hamilton and Buffalo railroad. I had not heard of that one but know a lot about the Grand Trunk Railway which my husband’s great grandfather is reputed to have been part of. I must learn more details about that!

This is the old Jerseyville Station with just enough yards of track laid to accommodate the engine, the coal car and a caboose to give us the flavour.

Check out the split rail fencing and the lovely perennial flowers and blossoming trees our pioneers would have treasured.

I loved this street scene. Can’t you just see the mothers tugging their little ones along to the Dry Goods store and the fathers rushing into the hardware store to look over the ever increasing collection of tools and inventions coming on the ships from the old countries or from the newly named United States of America?

And speaking of mothers–their faces would be red and their cotton sleeves rolled up as they lifted the burners and added more wood to the stove.

One of the last places we went was into the village store. We were met by two period-dressed volunteers who were as knowledgeable as they were historical. My husband took this amazing photo showing all the great things on the shelves. He was most interested in the penny candy, I think!

As we headed for the parking lot we passed the gift shop again but opted not to go in. All that walking was reminding us that our plush car seats were waiting for us. I’m kind of sorry about that decision. I should have checked out to see if they had any good historical books there or if they would like some of my historical fiction books on their shelves. Oh well, another time. We drifted off for home, well satisfied with our Sunday afternoon.

For more information about Westfield Village click here. This is a lovely video walk through.

Call for Submissions to My Coming Anthology. Entries due by November 1, 2022: Click for Information.

For links to buy Elaine’s books, click the image below.

May 21, 2022 was opening day for one of the most interesting forts in our Canadian history, Fort Henry, often referred to as Old Fort Henry. My constant travelling companion and I had been there before but were excited to have another look.

The Fort sits beside the Cataraqui River which flows into the mighty St. Lawrence River beside the since-built city of Kingston, Ontario. Here one of the Fort towers (with the red roof) keeps watch opposite the modern city on its perimeters.

The whole area was redolent with purple, white and mauve lilacs. I so wanted to pick a bouquet! Here the Cataraqui flows into the St. Lawrence. (And there’s another Fort tower!)

The garrison stores housed the Fort’s gift shop and I was anxious to see what historical books they might have. Unfortunately, most of the books were yellowed with age and hard to peruse on the very bottom shelf. I had to bend over and try to pull them from the shelves. I soon found my effort was not worth it. That was a disappointment partly because these shops often want to offer my four Loyalist books for sale but also because I saw nothing that would help me with my research for a new Loyalist book (series?) I’m working on.

The Fort itself was manned by acting soldiers in period dress, clicking their heels as they marched and firing off the cannons every so often. Here are two photos of those cannons and battlements.

We had a knowledgeable and pleasant tour guide who clicked his heels and marched us from one spot to the next with obvious pleasure. He told us that the lowest ranks wore red uniforms so that they would be easily spotted in the woods if they decided to run off from their soldierly duties. He was dressed in officers’ clothing which was much less obtrusive but still featured red on his hat.

Obviously this soldier on guard duty was of a lower rank!

The Fort does not have great towers or lookouts because it is built on such high ground along the edge of the St. Lawrence itself. Apparently when the Americans came across the St. Lawrence to have a look they decided that it was virtually impregnable and they would forgo trying to attack Fort Henry.

I was impressed by the clever things the British had built into the Fort as protection. The drawbridge had to be destroyed by going underneath it and loosening the whole thing, a tricky and time-consuming process. To keep the aggressors out, a special kind of ammunition could be fired around the corners and off the curved walls while an enemy might be trying to get across the drawbridge. The band played for us here.

This image shows the sheer size of the enclosed area and, of course, we watched the cannon firing. Not many people there on this first day of the season.

So why did we tour Fort Henry again? I wanted to refresh my memory for my new historical novel I am researching. It will feature United Empire Loyalists further east in Canada than my Loyalist trilogy did. Those three books centre on the Niagara area over into central Ontario, and the prequel goes back to prerevolutionary Boston. There is a wealth of material about those Loyalists who fled Boston during and just after the end of the American Revolutionary War.

While Fort Henry never saw battle it did house a number of political prisoners during World War I. Our guide told us that many of those were Ukrainians, “targeted because Ukraine was then split between Russia (an ally) and the Austro-Hungarian Empire, an enemy of the British Empire.” [From an article written for the Kingston Whig-Standard by Lubomyr Luciuk, professor of political geography at the Royal Military College of Canada, now near Fort Henry. Click to read the entire article.] Interesting how politics and world opinion change!

We came away from Fort Henry duly impressed by the fortification itself and by the knowledge and efficiency of the summer workers acting as tour guides. Here is the map from the Fort Henry National Historic Site situated on the St. Lawrence River at present-day Kingston. In 1812, it would have been much different but never forget that just across the river were those Americans, hungry for land and full of the pride in their new United States of America which they had wrested from England a little over thirty years earlier.

I can hardly wait to broaden my research further east, especially to New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. Keeping Canadian history alive and telling great historical fiction stories are so important and so interesting!

For more information on Fort Henry itself, click here.

Call for Submissions to an Anthology. Entries due by November 1, 2022: Click for Information.

For links to buy Elaine’s books, click the image below.

I have often called myself a flag-waving Canadian; hence, my delight at offering this opportunity to the writers among you whose family stories fit into this niche. I am seeking contributions for an anthology to be published in 2023 in time for the July 1 Canada Day celebrations.

The book length publication will feature unique and true stories of people who escaped their homeland and settled in Canada as a result of the Second World War or because of other warring troubles in their home countries. The publication will show that our country is made up of amazingly strong people who escaped something bad and created something good.

The submissions may be written by the participant or by relatives or friends of the participants. This is a chance to shine the light on true family stories which may not ever have been told in a formal way.

Submissions should be fully edited short stories, book chapters, short novellas or narrative poems written by the person submitting about people who ended up in Canada.

Submission Process:

1. You may query the editor and publisher, Elaine Cougler (Peache House Press), with your idea before submitting your entry, or simply submit the entry.
2. Entries must be submitted in print form and Word or .pdf form on or before November 1, 2022, to: Elaine Cougler (Peache House Press)

21-500 Lakeview Drive,

Woodstock ON N4T1W4.

3. Entries may include a short bio, contact link and/or one social media link. Please use a short link created by a company such as Bitly.com.
4. The editor will contact you with any editing issues or other questions. These must be resolved by January 31, 2023.
5. You will receive an email indicating acceptance of your final submission for the anthology.
6. The proposed publication date is May 31, 2023, in time for the Canada Day celebrations.

For more information contact Elaine Cougler at [email protected].