|Blogs > nstantkarma > Seeds and Stems.....|
I've always wanted to write a book, fiction based on historical facts that involved the part of North Mississipp I grew up in. It's based loosely on a man that left his family cypress lumber mill business to fight in the War Between the States...
After the war, he makes his way home.....
The horse took a sideways step at the lightning flash and thunderclap that soon followed. The gaunt looking man tipped his head and the rain ran like a river from it's brim. He nudged the horse and they began a wide circle of the small outrider shack that he had occasion to make use of on this trail a few times before.
He wished now he would have stayed one more night back in Portageville, but the crooked card games and the relentless whores that plied their trade very aggressively had frayed his nerves and he just wanted to be under the stars again. He had to get back to the folks...and Miss Elizabeth...
He was trying to put the past 5 years behind him. He had started out with the Iuka Rifles of the 2nd Mississippi Infantry regiment. They had looked so grand at the first battle of Bull Run in their redshirts with the gold stars on the sleeves. Somehow he had lived through the charge of Mott's Brigade at Gettysburg only to be to be be very badly wounded at Sharpsburg. By the grace of God he had lived through the pain and the fever, though there was a lot he didn't remember.
After that he rode with Forrest's Raiders as they harrrassed Grant on his march from Memphis.
He was in Missouri when news came that the war had ended. Now he was trying to get back home to help save the familiy lumber mill before the carpetbaggers got to it first. Sitting just a small distance from the banks of the Tallahatchie, it had been started by his grandfather. Be damned if he was going to let them get it without a fight.
He wondered who was in the shack. He didn't see a horse, yet there was a small wisp of smoke coming from the rusted smokestack. He tied the horse to a cottonwood and silently made his way to the shack door. He was just about to kick the door in when it flew open on him. There before him was a woman with fire red hair and a shotgun bigger than she was, pointed at his head...He looked at he gun...yep...both hammers were cocked. So he decided to try the honest approach.
"I'm powerful sorry maam, if'n I scared you. I'm on my way home to the family home in Belmont Mississippi and I was just lookin' fer a dry place for the night. I'd be much obliged if you'd take to not pointin' that double at my head. I have coffee and jerky that I would be glad to share if I could just come in and dry our fer the night"
The waif of a woman looked at him doubtfully..."How do I know you ain't one of them yankee carpetbagger scallywags?" He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled several confederate pay scripts...they were worthless now, but hopefully they would get the gun out of his face....
5/1/2006 8:47 pm
attention to detail. . .check
smooth flow. . . . check
character building. . .check
draws reader in. . . .check
need i say more? WRITE! the rest of your manuscript will cum due by years end okay. . . so get offa this BLOG and write for real. . .and when you do, you take me with you hear. . .goodnight