A getaway and a trip down memory lane

 

My office at the lake

Who remember those memes posted shortly after President Obama took office that showed a grinning George W. Bush asking, “Miss me yet?” That’s sort of how I feel: “Miss me yet?” I’ve been away for forty-eight hours but for me, who rarely travels, it seems much longer.

Friends gave Jordan access to their lake house, and she planned a family getaway as an early celebration of my upcoming birthday. We left on Friday, and came back today, Sunday—Jordan, Christian, Jacob and a friend, me, and three dogs. Three dogs make it hectic—the yard is not fenced, and they had to be individually walked on the leash. I have to say Sophie behaved like an angel—slept all night in her crate, though I felt half the time she was staring at me on the hide-a-bed directly in front of her. It must have been an effort for her, because she’s been sleeping all afternoon.

Sophie guarding her food from the other dogs

Jordan and I had planned some meals, and we ate well. Big Mac Salad Friday night, wonderful Great Outdoors-style sandwiches for lunch Saturday. She knocked it out of the park with those—even better than what they were modeled on. The secret, we discovered, is a red wine vinaigrette and mayo on the bread to keep it from getting soggy. Friday night, we three adults sat up late having deep philosophical talks about partisan politics, critical race theory, anti-vaxxers, and other matters over which we have no control but lots of opinion.

Jacob and his buddy spent most of Saturday on the water or on the dock. Jacob, who is on the verge of getting his learner’s permit to drive, loves that he is licensed to drive a jet ski or a boat and spends long hours on the jet ski.

Jacob on jet ski

Jordan and Christian spent Saturday afternoon on the dock—not sure if they went on the jet ski but I suspect not. I spent a delightful day reading, napping, and staring at the lake. After a childhood on Lake Michigan and more unsuccessful boat rides than I care to count, I have no desire to be in or on the water, but I love to look at it. So sitting at my computer reading, my eyes would drift to the lake, the long dock, the majestic trees in the front yard. I was reading a fictionalized account about the governess to the little princesses—Elizabeth and Margaret—as they grew up. Found it most interesting, but perhaps more about that another time.

cooking supper with doggie help

Saturday night Christian overcame such troubles as a last-minute run to the grocery store (not that close) for starter fluid and fixed a really good dinner of grilled chicken and a southwestern potato salad that had just a touch of cumin and corn—so good. Friends from across the cake came over, and we celebrated my birthday with chocolate chip cookies and ice cream.

Today I was a bit unreasonable: I wanted to be home for a Zoom program at two o’clock. Christian and I left Jordan and Jacob cleaning the house and made it by a hair’s breadth just before two. The program was on hotels in the Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago, my childhood home. I was interested in learning about the hotels I remembered and didn’t expect it to begin with the mid-1800s, but it did. It soon made sense, however. Many of the once-grand hotels were built in 1891 in anticipation of the Columbian Exposition which was, of course, in our neighborhood. That history fascinates me still, so I was glad to make the connection. And some of those still stand today—the Del Prado, the Windemere East, the Shoreland. But, their glory faded, they are mostly residential hotels. Still the program brought memories of elegant lunches and cocktail lounges—who goes to a cocktail lounge these days? And then there were down days when Hyde Park was one of the most dangerous areas in the city, a problem countered with an intensive urban renewal program. Once again, I was reminded that I grew up in one of the country’s most interesting and complex neighborhoods.

So I’m home, sleepy—Soph is back asleep again—and resolved to get up and get back to work tomorrow. Hope everyone had as good a weekend as I did.

As for that birthday, I'll be thirty-nine, in spite of what I told Jacob when he asked.

Author in search of a topic

This is going to sound like blatant self-promotion but I am so excited about the April 18 launch of my new historical novel, The Gilded Cage, that I can hardly contain myself. I had fun, over a stretch of many years, writing, rewriting, changing the point of view, always, I hope, making it better. In recent months, figuring out promotion sites and plans has been equally fun, including leaping at random opportunities as they arise, especially when they’re not part of my plan. Are you tired of seeing the cover and hearing about it? I hope not but if so, maybe it means I’ve covered social media pretty well. The only part that wasn’t fun was production, and I’m still struggling with getting the cover uploaded.

I haven’t published a historical novel since 2002, having turned my attention as most of you know to cozy mysteries. But I am so pleased with and proud of The Gilded Cage that I am searching about for another historical topic. I’ve done books on Libbie Custer, Jessie Benton Frémont, Etta Place, and one loosely based on Lucille Mulhall, first Wild West Show Cowgirl (she was a trick roper). So a woman of the American West seems a logical place for me to look for my next topic, since women of the West was for years my area of special interest. Does it have to be a “celebrity,” a recognizable name? I’m not sure.

I’m inspired by Susan Wittig Albert who did a book on Laura Ingalls Wilder and her daughter, Rose, more recently has published Loving Eleanor, about Eleanor Roosevelt and Lorena Hickok, and is already deep into writing yet another historical. I’ll wait for her to reveal the subject, but she has a talent for picking people with drama and tension in their lives.

I’ve toyed with and discarded a few ideas—Henriette Wyeth Hurd, for instance. I am fascinated by the Wyeth-Hurd artistic legacy, but while I suspect there’s more to the story, surface resources don’t indicate any tension or drama in her personal or artistic life. Years ago TCU Press encouraged an art historian to develop a biographical project but we were never able to raise research money, and the historian ran into what was almost a stone wall—which leads to my suspicion there’s more to the story. I met a relative who was pleased about the project, but it never went anywhere.

I’ve thought of a couple of other women but no one strikes me as just the right subject. After all, if I begin a new project of this kind, I’ll be living with the woman for a year. So it has to be the right person. The problem is always in the back of my mind, but meanwhile I’ve gone back to a half-finished mystery—with determination to find out how it all works out.

Taking a new road

I debated about blogging about this, because I try not to blog a lot about my writing career. But a timeline I recently saw said on the road to self-publication the first thing to do is tell family and friends. So here I am to say I'm going off in two new directions next fall: I will self-publish my historical novel, "The Gilded Cage." Yes, I know there are other novels by that name, but it's so apt. I've had some success with similar novels before, about extraordinary women of the American West, but this is different. It's a fictional biography of Bertha Honore (Cissy) Palmer and her husband, Potter Palmer of the Palmer House Hotel in Chicago.
I'm fascinated for two reasons: I grew up on Chicago's South side, Hyde Park/Kenwood to be specific, close to the grounds of the 1893 Columbian Exposition--rumor has it that the 1892 house in which I was raised was built for the exposition. As I delved into that story, I became more fascinated than ever at the amazing amount of talent showcased there, everything from scholars like Frederick Jackson Turner and Henry Adams to sculpture by St. Gaudens and art by Mary Cassett--to the Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, the original Ferris Wheel, and the scandalous "Little Egypt" where there was--gasp!--belly dancing.
And Cissy Palmer herself was an unusual and strong woman. Born and married into wealth, she was among the first to see the connection between wealth and philanthropy. Yes, her husband gave generously to various causes, but Cissy was the one who attended women's meetings, supported women's causes, traveled among the shanties of West Chicago to distribute help, worked at Hull House, Jane Addams' famous community shelter for immigrant women. The crowning glory of Cissy's career came whens she was elected President of the Lady Managers of the Exposition, responsible for the design, decoration, maintenance, and operation of the Women's Building.
I've turned the entire story into fiction, invented scenes and dialog and characters while sticking with the people who were really there. Most notably, I've injected a note of decorous romantic attraction, which I'm sure never existed. It all comes to a head the last night of the exposition.
The manuscript is with an editor and the idea with a cover designer. All plans can go awry of course,, but I hope to publish in October--so make your list of Christmas gifts. It will be in e-book and trade paper simultaneously.
And I'm equally excited about the book that Texas Tech Press is publishing in November: Texas is

Chili Country. I absolutely love the cover they've designed for it. The book is a light-hearted but documented look at the history of chili and the popularity of chili cook-offs today, with the granddaddy of them all at Terlingua each November. There are photos and recipes galore, along with chapters on beans and beer. Yes, I know--purists will not stand for beans in their chili, but they're often a side dish. And who can have chili without beer? I was lucky to have the cooperation of several good people in the compilation of this book, and I really look forward to some chili cook-off signing parties.
For those of you who like Kelly O'Connell and her Fairmount neighborhood or Kate and the Blue Plate Café, don't despair. There will be a third Blue Plate mystery in March or April 2016. Kelly will be back sometime, and so will Susan Hogan of The Perfect Coed.
As I said, plans can go awry, but there are my goals. Over the summer, I'll be blogging about Chicago history and chili recipes. Nothing like diversity in your writing.

Chicago's Gilded Age

I'm living in Chicago's nineteenth-century Gilded Age right now as I rewrite my historical novel. Once titled Potter's Wife, I think it will now be titled "The Gilded Cage." The story of Potter Palmer, who created the Palmer House hotel, and his society-born wife, Bertha (Cissy) Honore, is set against the background of Chicago's fascinating history. The Great Fire, the Haymarket Riot, and, finally, the 1893 Columbian Exposition. It was an era of tremendous wealth on the part of a few and abject poverty on the part of too many. Potter Palmer was a capitalist who believed that any man could achieve the wealth he had--he didn't realize how extreme poverty holds a man down. His wife, Cissy, was one of the first to recognize the social obligations of great wealth, and she worked at Hull House, had poor young woman into her house for cooking lessons, took food and clothing to those less fortunate than she, and ultimately was the president of the Exposition's Board of Lady Managers.
I'm fascinated by all this. I grew up on Chicago's South Side, not too far from the Midway created for the Exposition --it's where I learned to ice skate--and I attended the University of Chicago, which sits on the edge of the Midway. The history of Chicaago is part of my life story.
I'm noticing great parallels between that age and ours: the wealthy got wealthier, and the poor suffered incredible hardship--working ten or twelve-hour days for a pittance. Cries for shorter work hours and pay raises went unheeded by capitalists like Palmer, Marshall Field, Gustavus Swift, Philip Armour, George Pullman--all names famous in industrial history. So far, our situation today is less desperate but I can see how despair leads to civic uprising...and it makes me pause for thought.
Propriety was a big thing in those days--women of fashion did not bob their hair or wear bloomers nor protest for women's rights. Potter Palmer was always afraid his wife would become a suffragette. And Cissy, social-minded though she was, enjoyed the luxuries of wealth--I'm amazed at the ease with which these people traveled to New York City and to Europe. Chicago was also trying to prove itself to the East, where the Gilded Age flourished and people thought Chicago was still a rough outpost on the plains.
Fascinating stuff. If you can't wait for "The Gilded Cage," read Renee Rosen's What the Lady Wants, a novel about Marshall Field. And then read "The Gilded Cage" when it's published--sorry, no pub date yet. But I am really enthusiastic about this work. Thanks for letting me share.