War Stories – "Mare" discovered

Today, the Horn Book newsletter came out, and I noted a selection of war stories. Featured was Sara Lewis Holmes’ OPERATION YES, — woot! — and two for older readers I hadn’t heard of, PURPLE HEART by Patricia McCormick, and TRUCE, by Jim Murphy. I guess MARE’S WAR isn’t considered a war novel for whatever reason, but it was a nice salute to Veteran’s Day to see some new ones about different wars and different aspects of American conflicts.

The biggest hoot for me this Veteran’s Day was the discovery of …my grandmother’s military service. A young woman by the name of Mary L. Rogers, born in Alabama, enlisted and joined the WAC’s on the 30th of June in Tallahassee, Florida, in 1944.

Now, initially, when I was searching for my grandmother for my MFA project, I looked in military archives for one Mary Lee Rogers, or Rodgers — spelling seemed to vary so much back in the day –! I thought there would be records in the Navy. My grandmother spent most of her adult life in Pensacola, and I assumed Florida would be Navyland Central, surrounded, as it is, with all that water. I couldn’t find a thing, of course; African American women were not allowed to serve in Naval forces until almost the end of 1944, and the first WAVES were trained in the Northeast — Massachusetts and New York. Keeping in mind that my grandmother was essentially broke and on her own, that seemed a long way for her to go. Also, I was looking at a specific time line for her life, and that didn’t fit. I found nothing for any Mary Lee, and no one who matched with either spelling of Rogers. I was bummed.

I gave up that search, and went on to write MARE’S WAR (fiction being more workable than the truth), but who knew a chance meeting with Ancestry.com today would bring me the truth — and gobsmacking proof, that she actually was in the service!? We just happened to hear that they’re allowing closed military records and ship rolls from long ago to be searched for free, in honor of Veteran’s Day. We just happened to put in Mary L., instead of writing out her full name, and — bingo. Who would have thought such a minor detail would make such a big difference?!

My grandmother did not travel to the European Theater. She only served for two and a half years, and received a dishonorable discharge. Much of America was ambivalent about women in the military, and my grandmother was discharged because she was starting a family. That was enough to get you booted out, even if you were married. I don’t believe my grandmother was, sad to say. She loved uniforms and the rank and file her whole life; I don’t think she ever got it out of her blood.

I wish I could say she’d be proud of MARE’S WAR, but I think she’d be embarrassed, mostly, and a little peeved that I’d made something up (again. I don’t think she was much impressed with my disinclination for telling the truth). Never mind. I am so proud that she served, and proud of every member of my family who had the chutzpah to follow orders and stand up straight in whatever branch, for however long.

Thank-you, WAC’s, WAVES, Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines and National/Coast Guard.

Inspiration

As I’m on the home-stretch with re-re-rerevising/writing/finishing this novel — which has been like pulling teeth, abdominal surgery, a bikini wax and a colonoscopy all at once — I found myself needing inspiration. I’m to that stage in the process where I cannot listen to any music, cannot even have the curtains up, because gulls flying by are a distraction. So, before I buckle down and gird up my loins, I shall share a post I wrote two years ago about Yuyi Morales, who is all things good and wonderful and passionate and effervescent. She inspires me. I hope she inspires you.

For more about Santa Yuyi, check out Jules’ Siete Preguntas (7 Questions) interview with her at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.


The eclectically -brilliant Yuji Morales spoke this weekend about her way of writing, and of editing. She talked about making choices in her characters and styles as one must make choices about life partners: you just hone in on the one, and find out how to love them, then love them as if they were your only choice.

As I am currently facing the last two (three? Four?) chapters of my current work, and A.F. has just finished a first draft (cheers!) this strikes me strongly. Can I write like that? Can I just … go with what I’ve got, and not be forever going backwards and forwards all at once, fixing, tugging, arranging?

Frankly, I don’t think so.

I wish I were Ms. Morales — no, I mean, aside from wishing for that 0 dress size, fabulous wardrobe and sense of style — I wish I could write and draw and create with that single-mindedness of devotion to my own choices, with that belief that I have chosen rightly all ready, tidied up, and central to my mind. But I tend to question my own questions, even, which makes editing and revising with my agent like pulling leg hairs with rusted tweezers. One. By. One.

Ow.

Apparently, revision neuroses abound: we all do it so oddly, and so much our own way. Cynthia Leitich Smith was recently interviewed about her way of doing things, in the wake of the release of her vampire novel, Tantalize, which I am DYING (no pun intended) to read. Her discussion about editing gave me hives:

Not Your Mother’s Book Club: How much of your early work changes with revision?

Cynthia: Jeepers. Every time I say this out loud, I hear millions of writers screaming in the distance (and a few in front of me in workshop). But it is a regular part of my process to write a full novel draft, print it to read once, and then I throw it away and delete the file. Really. It’s my way of just getting to know the characters and their world. If I were to build on those first, fumbling efforts, my stories would have pretty shaky foundations. I’m not saying this is for everyone. Some folks can fully envision their work right out of the chute. But me, I figure whatever survives when I open the new document deserves a fair shot. Whatever doesn’t…doesn’t.

World: “Aaaargh!”

Even other writers — really, REALLY, really good writers are hyperventilating over this. But now, I am reconsidering… Is there some combination of steering by your one star and then tossing everything into the wind that could… actually … work? Is it indeed trusting, like the swan in the ugly duckling, that what you are meant to be will out, because it is written in your bones, in your head, in your hands, on your heart? Does it matter if you toss it all out? Would it actually make revision easier not to try to dodge the bits and pieces that you are trying to hold on to, but to throw it out wholly, raze it to the earth, release it, and recreate it out of the dust?

Hm. Hmm, hmmmm, hmmmmm…

Yuyi Morales closed her keynote address with the prayers of Señor Tlalocan (know to many as Tlalocan Tecuhtli, Lord Tlalocan), who is one of the gods of creation in Mexican mythology. She told us that he, as many creators do, sometimes has trouble believing in himself and finishing the tasks set before him. He has candles and altars to his hands, to his pencil and eraser, to his impulses, and to his backside. (Perhaps Señor Tlalocan invented the famous Butt In Chair?) I leave you with this thought:


Mighty Impulses of mine, give me the courage to follow you always.
Might I remember that there is no right or wrong decision, but only commitment to what I choose. Help me stick with my favorite option, and work on it with conviction and passion so as to make everyone believe it was the only choice I had.

Now, go and light a candle on your altar, and then… revise, reverse, refresh, repeat.


One of the nicest things about looking back is to see how far you’ve grown. I throw away files now. I delete. I start again. This reminds me today of how far I’ve come, and now I know: I can do this again. Pax.