Wednesday, December 02, 2009
Wednesday Promo- Gwyn Ramsey
I'm pleased to have Gwyn Ramsey, an author I met through Women Writing the West, here today.
GWYN RAMSEY was born and raised in Jennings, Missouri. The library became her favorite haunt and reading her most cherished passion. She attended the Florissant Valley Community College, pursuing a career in computer applications. She is the author of the series, Journey to Tracer’s Point (2008) and Winds of Change (2009). A former executive secretary for the Army, Gwyn resides in Florida with her husband. When not writing and time allows, she enjoys researching genealogy and tap dancing.
Gwyn would love to receive your email at firstname.lastname@example.org or visit her blog at www.gwynramsey.blogspot.com .
What inspires you to write western historical?
As a young child, my Sunday afternoon was spent at the show watching spaghetti westerns. I grew up with John Wayne, Randolph Scott, Chuck Connors, Jack Palace, Richard Boone, and James Arness, to name a few of the ‘older’ cowboys who rode the western trails of adventure. Then television stepped in with Bonanza, Little House on the Prairie, and Gunsmoke. One year for Christmas I asked for a pair of cap pistols and holsters from Santa Claus. I received a doll instead. Big disappointment!
The movies that inspire me and have kept me writing are: ’A Man Called Horse’, ‘The Last of the Mohegan’, ‘Dances with Wolves’, ‘The Searchers’, and ‘High Noon’. I, also, enjoy the television Hallmark series: Sarah, Plain and Tall and Love Come Softly.
So, armed with all those great stories, I keep writing historical fiction. I guess it’s in my blood.
Who is your favorite historical American?
Abigail Adams, born in 1744, the second child out of four, was a well-educated, strong woman. At the age of 20, she married John Adams and accepted the fact that he was involved in writing the Declaration of Independence which took him away from their family for long periods of time. She manned the Adams farm before and during the Revolutionary War, knowing the dangers around her. John Adams was away for ten years one time and Abigail never quit doing her duty to her family, house and farm.
I would like to think that American women are stouthearted, strong and caring. These are the women who made American what it is today. A woman who stands by her man through the good and the bad times. I truly admire Abigail Adams for her love of man and country.
What was your journey to publication?
Mine has been a journey to a million hobbies, one being genealogy. After writing a few poems, taking a few writing courses in college, and being a genealogist for a multiple of years, the idea of writing a book didn’t develop until 2000. I’m a late bloomer. Journey to Tracer’s Point is my first book. Learning to write and researching the entire stretch from Virginia to California took me three mind-blowing years. Finally when the book was finished in 2003, over one hundred rejections were received with statements, more or less saying, “western historical fiction is not in vogue at this time. Put it on the shelf and wait.” So I waited and kept writing the next book in the series. It wasn’t until 2008 that a small press picked me up and I was on my way. So the moral of this story is --- never give up and keep writing.
After surviving through the throes of being kidnapped by Indians and traded for goods to the Arapahos, Sarah Anderson proves herself worthy of the Indian name Vision Seeker and marries a warrior. She settles into the daily routine of wife to Running Swift and mother to Little Feather until a twist of fate brings her world crashing down around her when the Army charges into the village to arrest the warring warriors.
Rescued from the Indians and sent to Fort Laramie, Sarah now faces the difficult task of transitioning back into the white world with an Indian child. Shunned by the white populace and considered a soiled dove, she struggles with her uncertain future until a man she once knew crosses her path
The thunderous hoof beats of the horses reverberated through the village. Men scrambled from their lodges, many of them still naked. They ran and waved their arms to divert the spooked horses. Running Swift and Hands So High dashed through the village.
Some of the women with small children ran for cover of the woods while others stood ready for an attack as the enemy rode past, raising their clubs in the air. Young boys ran among the enemy, firing arrows from their small bows. Many of the villagers scrambled between teepees to seek safety from tomahawks and pounding hooves, all the while swinging knives and clubs to defend themselves.
The Blackfeet galloped into the center of the campsite, slashing and shooting arrows wildly into the crowd of attacking Arapahos. One warrior slashed a teepee pole, causing the covering to collapse and catch fire from the pit inside.
“Stop the horses,” shouted Running Swift. Quickly, he ducked a wild thrust by an attacker, which barely scratched his shoulder. He nocked his arrow and took aim. The feathered shaft pierced the rider’s chest. The brave died on his way to the ground. Running Swift grabbed a handful of mane and swung into the empty pad saddle.
As he rode into the melee, he yelled, “Push them to the lake.”
Deer Hunter ran toward the water, trying to keep the raiders in front of him. With his quiver empty, he threw his spear at one of the Blackfeet, missing by two feet. His arrows would have found their mark.
Hearing the thunderous hooves pound the campsite ground, Vision Seeker darted from the path of the panicked animals. She held her son, Little Feather, in one arm and waved the other, trying to divert the frantic horses.
A woman in front of her stood terror stricken by the battle raging around her.
“Move,” Vision yelled, as she dodged a Blackfoot’s tomahawk. She grabbed the woman by the shoulder and pulled her between two teepees. A young boy bumped into Vision, knocking her off her feet as he sprinted after the enemy with his bow and arrows.
Clutching Little Feather to her chest, Vision raced toward the shelter of several trees to hide her son. She hung his baby bag safely from a branch.
From the tree line, Vision saw Many Faces pick up her small daughter, Little Fawn. She yelled, “Many Faces, behind you.”
The woman swung a club at a brave on horseback. An arrow struck her in the stomach. As she crumpled to the ground, she dropped her daughter.
Overcome with anger, Vision screamed, “Kill them. Kill them.”