I can see clearly now

The semester is close to being over, and not only does this make me happy that there's only one issue left of the newspaper until I can relax, but it also makes me happy because of how much I've learned in my class that still has a bit left for me to learn more. School gets out the first week of December, but I think it's earlier than that for me, since my class doesn't really have a traditional format, and therefore, doesn't have a final attached to it.

We've finished our book proposals, and now we're onto our book covers. Although it is common knowledge that unless you are self-publishing your book (which to me is an icky way to publish, though many will argue the opposite) you pretty much have no control over how the cover of your book will look. Small presses might give you a little bit of room to offer input on that, and if you have a good agent you might have luck, but big houses do everything for you, including the cover they think will sell your book in a world where books are more often than not judged by their covers.

I say this, but in the same breath I will say that it all depends on who you are, and the reason I say this is because I think the likes of Stephen King, John Grisham and Diana Gabaldon, who have a huge readership that would buy their books no matter what their covers look like, have some say in what they generally want and don't want on their covers. I've sort of verified this with my constant reading of a big shot author's blog. The general consensus is that when you're big, you're one lucky cat that big publishing houses will do anything for, cause you're one of their few guaranteed moneymakers... your name alone sells books, and an inviting cover is just the icing on the cake.

For my book cover I'm still not sure exactly what I want, but the exercise is definitely making this book of mine materialize into an actual goal. It has been amazing to put my idea into words that are ready to be sent out to publishers and/or agents. I just have to write the book. It is not entirely unusual for a writer to not have the book ready before sending out queries, but you still have to have a few chapters written to give an idea of how your writing is.

In the midst of my excitement and vision coming together for my book, I have gone further than what the class is requiring.

I have started my research for what I hope will be my historical fiction book set in 13th century Baghdad, when it was under Abbasid rule. It's informal research for now that involves me just looking for sources, checking them out at the library, getting a better idea of the general way things were back in those days... you know, just getting my feet wet. When school gets out, I hope to go formal on the research and hopefully have an actual person I can just ask about the little details that would take forever to find in print. I've also been doing a lot of reading about how to write historical novels, and the bottom line has generally been "RESEARCH RESEARCH RESEARCH," but there's also the much repeated advice of finding a person who knows the stuff you're researching as a source for that one detail you want to verify. Finding someone is research in and of itself, so that is also something I hope to accomplish before too long.

I've also written a little more of the story for practice on how to show and not tell... a skill so very important, especially with historical fiction where readers ought to feel like they have just gotten into a time machine and travled to the place you're describing. It's not easy!

Now, in all the reading I've done so far for research, I've found that the history I'm covering is very depressing. It's depressing no matter what kind of connection you have to the subject matter, but with it being the "old country," it leaves me totally down. History is filled with sad events, but sometimes it's good to know that certain events are over and done with. As far as I know, for instance, there won't be any more witch hunts and trials. As depressing as the history of it is, it's gone. It's like reading a sad story that starts with "Once upon a time, a long time ago..."

But what about when history repeats itself? Let me tell you, it's very depressing.

Baghdad in particular is a place with a lot of violence in its history as well as present. I don't have to say too much about what's going on these days in that city and the country it is in, because it's part of our everyday lives no matter how much we try to avoid it. What happened in Baghdad as far back as 1258 echoes so much of what's happening today, it depresses me. It depresses me that the same groups still do the same things they did almost 1,000 years ago, and it's even more depressing to know that though they've already done it again, they're going to do it again and again. The only comfort I have is that people stop doing horrible things to each other for as long as the wounds and memories are fresh. These things might stay fresh for as long as 1,000 years, but eventually they go stale, fade and dissolve into a grim tale hard to imagine as a reality. Then people are up and at it again.

In 1258, Baghdad's caliph was given a choice... either to bow down to the Mongol empire, or to face ruin. Whatever his reasons were (which have different explanations from different sources and views), the caliph chose to ignore the threats and stand up to the empire that had absorbed neighboring cities without much resistance. The result was a disastrous event that left almost a million people dead, including the caliph and one of his sons. The Mongol sacking of Baghdad erased Abbasid rule, and let the Tigris river run red with blood. It changed the shape of the Islamic world.

Of course, the caliph had advisors, and these advisors had their own agenda in telling him what to do in the situation that was presented. One wanted him to surrender, and the other wanted him to stand up to the Mongols. One was a Shi'ite and the other was a Sunni, not necessarily in that corresponding order, as I can't remember the details right now... but there was sectarian violence back then, and it has been awakened with what's going on now.

I still need to find out more, but what I've found out so far makes me sad and angry. I'm sad that such a thing has happened twice, and I'm angry that it's being repeated.

Going back to the book... reading what I've been reading is at times helping me solidify my plot and ideas, and at other times making me realize that a certain idea or aspect of the plot isn't going to work. Despite the depressing history and obstacles with plot based on history, I am closer to making one of my dreams come true than I have ever been, and that makes me very happy.

How about the real reason I'm at ACC?

I've been so consumed by the happenings at the newspaper, that I've neglected to write about the real reason I'm in school-- my class!

Class is going good. I haven't published anything yet, but this class has helped me in different, amazing ways.

For one thing, the project we're working on right now is a book proposal. Now, I don't have a book, but my ultimate goal is to write one one of these days. Up until now, my vision of a book has been a little hazy. I simply had no idea what I wanted to make into a book, but I knew I wanted to write one.

A series of events recently has cleared up the murky waters, and the book proposal assignment is simply a way for me to put my vision of my book in writing and on paper. For the first time I feel I can answer the question: "What do you want to write?"

So, what do I want to write? Are you ready for this? Historic fiction. I love history, and I love fiction. A number of my favorite books fall under this category. I can't think of a better combination, and it's what I want to do.

The Bronze Horsemanwas a book I read years ago that is more of a romance, but has a very strong historic fiction aspect to it. This book is one of my favorites and really got me into reading the genre. Few books were able to hold me and draw me like it did for a long time, but it certainly sent me on a path. The path was long, but it finally lead me to The Birth of Venus, the book that truly got me thinking about trying my hand at the genre. I only dreamed about it, though, and instead just felt awed by the genius who wrote it (Sarah Dunant). Further down the path, I stumbled upon Outlander, part of a series, and which actually falls under fantasy, given its time-traveling aspect. This is the book that helped the machine run by the class work properly and produce a solid goal.

I am simply hooked on this idea, and have not only decided on the genre, but I've also decided on the setting. I've thought about a rough plot, and decided on the time my story will take place in.

Simply put, through this class assignment, I was able to insure that what I plan on doing has not been done often, and virtually never. Out of all this, new stories and ideas have surfaced that I think have finally given me a niche to strive for in the genre I've chosen. A ton of research is in order, naturally, but luckily, the research is on history... I said it already and I'll say it again... I love history.

Though I usually shy away from sharing my fiction/creative writing, I am going to share an excerpt of my first attempt at historic fiction, and would love to know your thoughts!

So, here goes:

It was the year 1257, and peace broke out over our city for the holy month of Ramadan, leaving us to tend to our religious duties as Muslims. Ours was a city that was rich with books on science and literature, culture and religion. It had been that way for over 500 years in Baghdad-- the City of Peace.

The smell of jasmine permeated the air, while the Tigris and Euphrates rivers glittered underneath Allah's light and glory. Minarets poked out like decorative needles against a backdrop of the orange setting sun in the horizon.

I was born and grew up in this city that was the home and center of the Abbasid Caliphate. My father was a respected merchant of all things exotic and spicy. I was sixteen then, and living in a palace with my father, mother, brothers and sisters. A slew of servants filled our courts to tend to our every need. It was the life of an aristocratic family in these Abbassid years-- one filled with delicious meats, breads, rice, and an assortment of fruits and vegetables virtually unknown to the commoners of our rich city.

Each day, the servants would spend endless hours preparing the family's meals, becoming mesmerized by things like a long yellow fruit that is joined at the top with others like it in a tough black bond.

I was a child of five, when I saw Amina, my nanny, marvel at the beauty of a bright red apple. Thinking her wonderment funny I broke out in laughter, sending Amina running after me as I maneuvered the palace's open courts. I knew every nook and cranny of the palace with its vast courts and majestic columns. I floated and disappeared behind exotic pieces my father had brought back from his travels as a merchant. Some of them still held the smell of spice and the seas that had absorbed into the wood during transport aboard ships. I could still smell the cinnamon, curry, cumin and paprika emanating from the Chinese wooden chest. My father prized this chest more than any other object he acquired during his sails. It had a lock and an accompanying key with golden tassels hanging from it.

Amina’s duty was to tend to my every need. She was like a mother to me, though I gave her more trouble than I gave my real one, who commanded the respect of all the palace’s occupants. My mother had gone through a dozen pregnancies, several difficult births and a handful of stillborns—a mixture I had come out from, healthy and mischievous. My mother was simply too weak to care for a child of my disposition, even if it weren’t already the custom for a family of our status to have nannies for children.

Amina's thick body often left her winded when she finally did catch up to me, making me succumb to the dreaded nightly bath.

I hope I was able to conjure up vivid images of Baghdad, back when it was the center of the world. There is quite a conflict being set up for this story, and I didn't have to do much to create it. History itself created the conflict for me, all I have to do is describe it in an engaging way. I mention the year 1257. Well, 1257 is the year before the Abbasid Dynasty ended. February 10, 1258 is when Baghdad was sacked by the Mongols, who wreaked so much havoc on the city, that the Tigris was said to have turned red with blood.

It's obvious that Baghdad is a city that has seen a lot of violence in its time, and it's unfortunate, because the violence is all most people see. They never see the beauty of this city, with its rich history and culture. I will paint Baghdad as the way it was once upon a time, and show how that beauty began to fade, yet never completely went away. That beauty still exists today, but I suppose it's a little hard to see with tanks rolling through streets that have existed for centuries, and hold secrets that were once written on paper, but burned by the Mongol invasion 750 years ago.

So, this is what my class has done for me just in the last month. This class has been worth every penny!