Smelled Like Rotten Eggs

While at the Texas Book Festival last week, peddling my book, Where Love Once Lived, I told a few potential customers how the book was set in Austin, and one of the scenes took place just a few yards from where we were in that tent on Colorado Street. Here is an excerpt from that scene:

“You know,” Mr. McCullough said as he and Brian walked through the capitol grounds, “a few years back, ever’one would be staring at us.”

Brian was six foot two, and Phil’s dad was five two or three at the most. Mr. McCullough had just gotten off work at the Driskill and still had on his white shirt and bowtie. Brian wore shorts and Birkenstocks. Still, Brian knew Mr. McCullough was talking about race, not stature or clothing. Mr. McCullough was from a time in history Brian could never fully understand, but he’d read about how blacks suffered. It was a time of segregation.

They’d walked from the Driskill to the capitol without discussing a destination. The goal was to talk, and Congress Avenue just naturally led them into the capitol grounds. The grassy area surrounding the huge pink granite building was inviting this time of year. It was hot, but the shade of the trees along with a breeze made it comfortable.

Phil’s dad led the way to a bench under a tree near a water fountain. It was a pleasant place. Birds soaked the area with song, and statues stood rigid watch over the grounds while people walked back and forth, seemingly unaware of their verdant surroundings. This was the perfect place for the conversation with Phil’s dad, and Brian silently thanked God for leading them here. The realization he couldn’t ask Karen to marry him until his faith in God was stronger had come to him on the trip to California. He wanted to love God more, but couldn’t. Perhaps God hadn’t forgiven him for what he had done thirty years ago.

Mr. McCullough looked around. “When I was jus’ a kid, nine or ten I’d say, my parents brought me here.” He motioned toward the spot where they sat. “My daddy told me to drink from a sulfur fountain that was here. Said it’d be good for me and make me healthy. But there was a problem. Back then, you see, we had separate drinking fountains. One marked ‘white’ and one marked ‘colored.’”

He paused, but Brian waited for him to continue. “There was only one sulfur fountain and it wasn’t marked one way or ‘nother, colored or white.” He laughed. “Didn’t matter. We sneaked a sip when no one was about. Only once, though.” He shook his head and made a face. “Terrible stuff. Smelled like rotten eggs.”

Let me know what you think of this scene.

See: http://sidneywfrost.com/capitol.htm for additional photos of the Capitol grounds.

Texas Book Festival Was a Blast

I had the opportunity to sell my book, Where Love Once Lived, at the Texas Book Festival last weekend. Laura Bush, a former school librarian, founded the festival 15 years ago, and this year she spoke about her new book, Spoken From the Heart.

What surprised me the most was the size of the event. The streets around the Capitol were closed to vehicles and huge white tents popped up around the area. I had a two-hour slot to peddle my book in one of the long row of exhibitor tents in the middle of Colorado Street where it intersected with 12th Street.

When we first got there, I knew it was going to be big because there were no parking places available. We had to park on the fifth floor of a parking garage and lug two boxes of books down to the exhibitor tent, without the aid of an elevator. I'd originally planned to only bring about three dozen books and go back to the car for more if needed. But since it was so far to go back, I decided to take both boxes from the start, books plus a box of supplies such as bookmarks. I couldn't have managed it in one trip without help from Celeste.

There wasn't a time during the two hours that there weren't potential customers. The place was packed with people, all stopping, or at least glancing at what we had to offer.

I tried to get a book into their hands to make them feel some degree of ownership, but usually the book was quickly returned. Some took a little time to read the back cover before putting the book down. A few actually bought the book. A very few. Counting my friend Betty Caywood, who purchased two copies to give to friends, I sold a total of five copies.

However, the lack of sales wasn't a disappointment at all. I met some interesting people and learned that I can describe my book verbally. I handed out many cards and bookmarks and, perhaps, some of those will turn into sales.

Making Your Settings Come Alive

To make your settings believable, try visualizing the location where the scene takes place. Best yet, use a photo of or a visit to a real place.

In Where Love Once Lived, I could see in my mind the places where each scene took place. Some settings were imaginary and some were real, but they were all clear to me as I moved the characters about in the scene.

There is one scene in the book where the male and female protagonists meet on the campus of the University of Texas. I'd been there often enough to easily describe the scene, but before I began writing, I went there again.

I walked along the same sidewalks described in the book and sat on the bench where my fictional characters sat. I went to the Student Union and found out Brian and Karen's favorite place to eat had been replaced by a cluster of fast food stands you find in malls and airports today. I went on a Friday and listened to the Carillon play.

I took photos and posted them on my website, not only for future readers of the book, but for me to look at as I edited.

The photo shown here is of the bench where Brian and Karen had a picnic lunch while talking about their future. To see the other photos, go to http://sidneywfrost.com/settings.htm and click on the setting locations to see the photos. There are also photos taken at the State Capitol, the Cabin, Mount Bonnell, and a church in South Houston that was in my mind as I wrote about the one set in Redondo Beach, California.

Let me know what you think about setting descriptions. Have you read books that made you feel you were there with the fictional characters? What if the author is describing a place you know quite well and you find errors. Does that bug you the way it does me?

In an early version of Where Love Once Lived, I described Manor as being west of Austin instead of east. None of my writing classmates noticed. But as soon as my Austin friends read it, they all pounced on me.

Texas State Capitol Memories

A novel is fiction. It's not true. Pure imagination. Right? Well, yes, but... I suspect every novel contains some little something from the author's past. Where Love Once Lived is no exception. While I didn't make the same mistakes Brian did, there are events in my life I wish hadn't happened. But I trust God lead me to where I am today.

In the following excerpt, I describe a scene at the Texas state capitol that I had with my mother and dad and sisters when I was a child. Photos reminded me of the event for years after it happened. My dad tricked me into drinking the sulfur tasting water that day cementing the memory forever. I also remember a time when I wondered if people were staring at me and a fellow marine who happened to be black as we traveled from California to Texas.

When we reached my parent's house in Austin, I was concerned about their reaction since, as far as I knew, Bill would be the first black person in our home. However, he was accepted graciously. My dad even drove us the rest of the way to Houston, saying we were probably too tired to drive further.

In this excerpt, Brian had asked to meet with Mr. McCullough, the 78-year-old father of Brian's best friend Phil, because Brian wanted advice on being close to God. You'll have to read the book to find out more. I only included enough here to describe the setting.

“You know,” Mr. McCullough said as he and Brian walked through the capitol grounds, “a few years back, ever’one would be staring at us.”

Brian was six foot two, and Phil’s dad was five two or three at the most. Mr. McCullough had just gotten off work at the Driskill and still had on his white shirt and bowtie. Brian wore shorts and Birkenstocks. Still, Brian knew Mr. McCullough was talking about race, not stature or clothing. Mr. McCullough was from a time in history Brian could never fully understand, but he’d read about how blacks suffered. It was a time of segregation.

Mr. McCullough looked around. “When I was jus’ a kid, nine or ten I’d say, my parents brought me here.” He motioned toward the spot where they sat. “My daddy told me to drink from a sulfur fountain that was here. Said it’d be good for me and make me healthy. But there was a problem. Back then, you see, we had separate drinking fountains. One marked ‘white’ and one marked ‘colored.’”

He paused, but Brian waited for him to continue. “There was only one sulfur fountain and it wasn’t marked one way or ‘nother, colored or white.” He laughed. “Didn’t matter. We sneaked a sip when no one was about. Only once, though.” He shook his head and made a face. “Terrible stuff. Smelled like rotten eggs.”

See: http://sidneywfrost.com/capitol.htm for photos of the area where Brian and Mr. McCullough may have been.

I would love to hear from you. Do you have family memories about visiting places like the state capitol? What caused the memory to stick in your mind? Have you experienced racial segregation? Have you ever felt people were staring at you because you did something out of the norm? Please comment below or email me: sidfrost@suddenlink.net.