Oct 25, 2017 |
by Jacqueline Patterson @jacpatterson
You feel the silence like a weight on your soul. Above you, a hiss of wind shifts the moss dangling from the rows of dying oaks.
Witches’ hair, the locals call the moss.
Tonight, in the heavy atmosphere, you’re almost ready to believe there are faces on the other side of the moss.
One of the South’s most haunted cities, Savannah allegedly has a ghost on every corner. Tourists who know nothing of the legends call police when they run into a distressed soul, only to later discover the one seeking their aid has disappeared.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Savannah Spooks
When you walk through downtown, you are trespassing across stolen land and forgotten graves. Uneven rises in the sidewalk are said to be caused by collapsing coffins beneath. Squares rich with history coax you into exploring them, trapping you in their ethereal atmosphere before they reveal their true history. It took months of exploring my favorite spot, Wright Square, before I discovered it was actually the “hanging square,” haunted by the ghost of accused murderer Alice Riley.
I heard the story like this:
Alice Riley arrived in Savannah two months before she became a murderer. Nothing is known about the life she left behind her in Ireland, but certainly she was desperate to get out, given that she had indentured herself as a servant in return for passage to the colonies. When the ship finally arrived, the indentured servants aboard were storm-tossed and nearly starved.
Despite the dire circumstances, Alice must have been hopeful when they landed.
A new country.
A new start from whatever she left behind.
But instead she was sent away with the worst of masters: abusive degenerate William Wise.
According to legend, he used Alice in any way he pleased. She was forced to bathe him, while her lover and fellow indentured servant Richard White combed Wise’s long hair. Wise used his fists and words with brutal regularity.
In March of 1734, according to legend, Alice and White had enough: they would kill Wise and escape together to Charleston, where they could begin a free life together. They came as usual to begin Wise’s morning grooming. Alice set the bucket of water behind Wise’s head, and White moved in position to begin combing his master’s hair. Instead, White grabbed Wise’s neckerchief, strangling him. Then Alice plunged Wise’s head into the bucket. Already in frail health, Wise died quickly.
Alice and White fled the scene of the crime. When Wise’s body was discovered, the Savannahians’ suspicions were raised, and a manhunt ensued. White was caught first, then Alice. White was taken immediately to the gallows, but a discovery halted Alice’s execution.
She was pregnant.
Some claim the baby was White’s, created in love, and others that the pregnancy was forced upon her by her wicked master. In either case, pregnancy only delayed her eventual fate. Alice gave birth while awaiting execution.
On January 19, 1735, her baby was ripped from her arms, and Alice was taken into Wright Square to be hanged, protesting her innocence and cursing the city for not believing her.
Her body swung on the gallows for three days.
Her baby, James, died two weeks after.
Centuries after the hanging, we still don’t know the full truth of the story. Was Alice a forced accomplice in Wise’s death? Or was she the instigator, tired of Wise’s rapes and abuse?
Perhaps we should ask Alice herself.
Her ghost is said to haunt Wright Square to this day, one of the most often reported ghosts in the US. It’s said she appears to pregnant women and mothers with infants, in an attempt to take their babies.
As for the curse? People have many theories, but one thing is clear: to this day, Spanish moss doesn’t grow on the trees in the park. After all, the legends say the moss won’t grow where innocent blood was spilled.
Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll do an investigation myself.
TWEET THIS: #Savannah Spooks: The Legend of Alice Riley @MollyJoRealy @jacpatterson #aliceriley #haunting
And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!
Jacqueline Patterson
Dragon Tamer. Ancient Rome fanatic. Writer living on the edge of fictional worlds. J. A. Patterson attempted to teach herself to write at the age of four, wrote her first book (featuring eerily violent chickens) at age five, and has been immersed in books ever since. Sometimes literally. When she isn’t writing, you can find her studying music, reading, and searching for portals to new fantasy worlds. Talk to Jacqueline about books, and she will be your friend forever. You can connect with her through her website and blog J.A.Patterson, on Twitter and Instagram.
Jul 24, 2017 |
by Jacqueline Patterson @JacPatterson
Paige’s Plantation – How to be a Southern Belle in Ten Easy Steps
Have you always wanted to be a Southern Belle, but were raised in the foreign field beyond the Mason-Dixon line? Follow these fail-proof tips and you’ll soon convince anyone you were raised on Tara.
1. Use “y’all” like salt; sprinkle a little bit everywhere. We’ll be testing you according to your ability to use common Southern speech. Bless your heart.
2. Learn how to make good biscuit. Note that I DID NOT SAY BISCUITS. Biscuits –plural— are the nasty glob you find in cans at Wal-Mart. Biscuit —singular— are handmade goodness so delicious they’ll make you slap your mama. Apologies, Mama. The biscuit made me do it.
3. If the tea isn’t sweet, don’t drink it. Being offered unsweetened tea is an insult, because any true Southerner knows tea is just liquid sugar. Your best option is to be off like a herd of turtles.
Frankly, My Dear . . .: If it ain’t sweet, it ain’t tea!
4. If the occasion calls for an insult, sugar it down. Add a little “Bless your heart, Hun”, or an affectionate “deah” and grin like a mule eating briars. After all, Southern ladies hide their animosity beneath a thick layer of syrup.
5. The Gone with the Wind gown may not be necessary, but are you really going shopping in jeans and a T-shirt? Not unless you want them to think you’re not a lady, honey. You’ve got to shine. Break out the heels and the jewelry. Also, a true Southern lady knows to choose a handbag so big it makes her hips look small.
6. Citronella is your perfume of choice during the summer (and every other season down South). Also, this is the way to catch a good man. He’ll latch onto you once he realizes you’re a mosquito-free zone.
7. When you need to really impress, break out your mounted deer heads. A true Southern lady provides food for her household, you know. How else are we supposed to know you’re a decent human being and a good shot?
8. The bigger the hair, the better. And on Easter morning? Fluff it out like an 80’s glamor shot, hun. Otherwise everyone in church will look at you like you’re the three-legged dog in a horse race.
9. A true Southern lady is proud of her social skills. The best of us can carry on a conversation with a live possum and come away smiling. Of course, it helps if the possum is smiling too.
10. And, as always, remember to just be yourself. Only, of course, sweetened up with a little accent and a smile so big it’ll make the sun blush.
How do you stay Southern? Leave a comment.
TWEET THIS: Tweet: How to be a Southern Belle in Ten Easy Steps @RealMojo68 @JacPatterson #southernbelle #franklymydear
And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!
Jacqueline Patterson
Dragon Tamer. Ancient Rome fanatic. Writer living on the edge of fictional worlds. J. A. Patterson attempted to teach herself to write at the age of four, wrote her first book (featuring eerily violent chickens) at age five, and has been immersed in books ever since. Sometimes literally. When she isn’t writing, you can find her studying music, reading, and searching for portals to new fantasy worlds. Talk to Jacqueline about books, and she will be your friend forever. You can connect with her through her website and blog J.A.Patterson, on Twitter and Instagram.
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Feb 9, 2017 |
Jacqueline Patterson’s Key to Success
by Jacqueline Patterson @jacpatterson
Frankly, My Dear . . . Jacqueline Patterson’s Key to Success
“The more we work to help others,
the more we begin to enjoy the life we’re living.”
I raised my heavy-lidded gaze from the laptop screen and the quote on the coffee cup stared back at me. Like I really have time!
My eyes shifted to the blinking light on the phone, the sure indication that yet more messages were waiting for me.
I couldn’t take care of the rest of the world.
I turned my phone so I could no longer see the blinking light.
I had too much to do, too much to plan and consider and rewrite if I hoped to finish my book by my self-imposed deadline. After all, this was my story, my words, and that meant my work was most important, right?
Right.
And I wouldn’t let this distract me.
I turned back to my laptop, but my fingers were lead on the keyboard. I added a solitary word here, a phrase there, but my gaze continued to stray back to the quote.
“The more we work to help others . . .”
“No,” I said, and my voice was firm with resolve. “You will finish this story.” My friends would take care of themselves, the way they had a hundred times before. I would pray for them, then check up on them once I finished these edits. Surely things weren’t so severe they needed me right now.
I started at the half-empty page on the screen, and found myself rereading the words I had added since spotting the quote. Most were repetitions, rambling and distracted. How long had I been locked into this writing frenzy anyway? Days? Weeks? I couldn’t remember the last time I sought out contact with a friend other than with a quick writing question. I had simply burrowed away into my writing shell, where all that mattered was my story . . . and me.
As if friendship wasn’t even important.
But . . . Wasn’t it my duty to put my book first? After all, I was the one who went around reminding everyone they were the only ones who could write their story, and how would it look if I didn’t keep up my reputation for busyness? I shouldn’t step back from my writing. Even for an hour.
I had work to do.
I glanced between my laptop and my phone, my mind rebelling as I made my decision.
There would be time to work on my book later. I would always make time. There were no guarantees that all my friends would last until tomorrow.
The key to success was not to push myself forward, but to care for others. Even my writing was not for myself, as much as I wanted to hold to the comfort of that illusion. Why seek publication except to reach others?
It would be an empty journey without friendship. Without sharing dreams.
I closed my laptop and reached for my phone.
CLICK TO TWEET: Frankly, My Dear: Jacqueline Patterson’s Key to Success.
Jacqueline Patterson
Jacqueline Patterson wrote her first book at the age of five: the tale of an assassin hen on the trail of a crafty fox. (OK, so the story wasn’t that epic, but the hen was mean.) That first story hooked her, and she hasn’t stopped since. She is currently editing Primate, the first book in her Forever in Time series, in the hope of publication . . . If she can ever convince herself that she’s found the perfect draft. Talk to Jacqueline about books, and she will be your friend forever. You can connect with her on Twitter and Instagram.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!
Jan 7, 2017 |
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Where is My Creativity?
by Jacqueline Patterson @jacpatterson
From Molly Jo:
I met Jacqueline last year at the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference. Since then, she’s been highly active in the Firsts in Fiction podcast audience, and on social media. If you follow either of us (more her) on Twitter or Instagram, you’ll see what I mean. She’s my kind of person! Snarky, social, and steady. When asked what three things define our friendship, she responded, “Love of the written word/writing, laughter, and fun ideas/plans. Plus, we both like to cook!” I told her I was just thinking writing, faith and coffee, but I liked her answer better. So now we’re in a bit of competition to see who can come up with a better answer. Typical us. You’ll find us (hopefully) at this year’s BRMCWC, eating chili and keeping the neighbors awake with our caffeine-induced laughter.
Whether you’re a writer, a reader, or family member obligated to read this blog, we know you’re going to love her new monthly column on writing.
~#~
Jacqueline Patterson – Where is My Creativity?
I growled at my laptop screen and [I swear it’s true] the laptop growled back. I had been laboring over my WIP [work in progress] for hours. Literal back-wrenching, misery-inflicting hours.
The characters I once loved were now dead . . . and bordering on stupid. Although [I’m going for complete honesty here] nothing could be more moronic than the storyline itself.
Somewhere in the process, I had lost touch with my creativity, and the story was suffering from my stubborn dedication to a plotline I knew in my heart of hearts was wrong.
I know, I know, we’re writers. We live writing and we breathe writing and there is no such thing as a break. But sometimes [Okay, a collective deep breath here], we need to step away. Give ourselves a chance to view our stories through fresh eyes.
Here are a few self-discoveries I found for reclaiming my creativity.
First of all, step out of your comfort zone.
Yes. You heard me right.
If you’re like me [it’s okay to admit it], there’s nothing scarier than shaking up your routine. You have your specific writing spot, your fixed writing time, your bossy writing quirks or whatever you’re holding on to.
Let it go.
- Shake things up. Is your story dead? Maybe you’ve settled for the wrong protagonist, and your characters are trying to let you know. Play around with POVs [Point of View], names and scenarios. I find when I try this that sometimes a new story is born out of the hodgepodge of ideas and I’m eager to get back to writing again.
- Try a new writing spot. Confession: I fought this for so long. But once I tried it, I found that it sharpened my senses and forced me to concentrate. Now I try a new writing spot every week, even if it’s simply a different seat in the same coffee shop.
- Start something new. Yes, you read that correctly. It’s okay to set your story aside and work on that project that’s been gnawing at the back of your mind. You’ll return to your WIP with fresh energy.
- Go back over your WIP. Is there a chance you mis-stepped and forced a scene that doesn’t belong in your story? Ask yourself if you’ve taken a wrong turn. Often, writer’s block is caused by something as simple as a misplaced sentence, or an unneeded character.
- Seek out what first inspired you to write this story. When did the idea for your WIP originally generate? Rewatch that movie, reread that book, revisit that spot. Reach back into the emotions of discovery. After all, you were the one chosen to write this story.
- Brainstorm with fellow writers. You’ll come away with the creative juices flowing, and a collision of ideas that will drive you back to the laptop.
- Take time to simply relax. You are not a writing robot. You can’t spend your entire life in front of a screen, churning out novels with mindless predictability. Go out and live this thing called life. Explore. Challenge yourself to new adventure.
This is not a game.
This is not a hobby.
This is your story . . . and your gift to the world. Allow yourself a moment to breathe and to find your story again. Step away so that you can return to your writing with open eyes and renewed creativity.
After all, we are creating stories that we hope will last forever.
CLICK TO TWEET: Frankly, My Dear . . . : Where is My Creativity?
Jacqueline Patterson
Jacqueline Patterson wrote her first book at the age of five: the tale of an assassin hen on the trail of a crafty fox. (OK, so the story wasn’t that epic, but the hen was mean.) That first story hooked her, and she hasn’t stopped since. She is currently editing Primate, the first book in her Forever in Time series, in the hope of publication . . . If she can ever convince herself that she’s found the perfect draft. Talk to Jacqueline about books, and she will be your friend forever. You can connect with her on Twitter and Instagram.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!
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