Stuck in the Mud

I’ve been working on a historical fiction/Christian novel for the last couple months. It’s told from three different points of view, each story kicking off from one key triggering event. Two of the three pieces are done, but I have spun my tires in the mud trying to get traction on the third and final story. Why? Well, as mentioned, the novel is historical fiction, set in the 1840s and later, so a certain amount of research has to be done prior to putting words onto paper (or computer screen). I can’t accurately place my character on the Oregon Trail or in the California gold rush unless I get the timeline right. Second, the previous two segments encompassed much shorter periods of time that were easier to research—the first story spanned an entire year. The second segment was shorter, around seven months. The third segment will take place over a much longer period of time, roughly twenty years, from the early days of the Oregon Trail (1844) to the discovery of gold in Bannack, Montana (1862) and beyond. Writing this segment means researching cholera outbreaks, various Indian tribes and their customs, and gold mining techniques. I might have to mention, at least in passing, the Mexican-American War and the Civil War and innovations like the Pony Express and the telegraph, so I need to know at least a little about all of them so I can write about them intelligently.

One of the biggest hurdles I need to get past is the fact that this final segment of the whole story is possibly the most important segment of the entire book. The desire of Titus, the main character, to witness his faith to the Indians is the fulcrum upon which the other two stories balance. Were it not for Titus’s heartfelt desire to leave the Oregon Trail and strike out on his own, taking his wife and three children with him, the other stories would not have taken place. His decision sets in motion a series of events neither he nor the rest of his family could have foreseen. So I can’t botch this part. The success of the first two stories rests on the believability of the third.

It wasn’t until late yesterday afternoon that I finally found the heart of the story, the elusive sine qua non that had been missing. This came about when I realized that all the research in the world wasn’t going to help me write this story unless I figured out what truly made Titus tick, what caused him to do what he did. I’ve mentioned this in an earlier blog, but Lajos Egri’s exercise to create a “three-dimensional bone structure” of a character (found in The Art of Dramatic Writing) really helped me figure out my character in a way I couldn’t figure him out before. Question by question, I worked on my analysis of Titus-- what his strengths and weaknesses were, what was important to him, what disappointments he’d experienced and how they had shaped his actions. In answer to the question about Titus’s obsessions and inhibitions, I wrote May be reluctant to forge friendships with others, lasting relationships, because he is hyper-aware of how fragile those relationships can be. Who else does he love? Who does he give the doll to? One of the Indian children? Or a small child whose parents are just scraping by? Mother works to feed miners; father is driven to find gold, ignoring all else. The child wanders around a lot on her own. Titus doesn’t like that; believes she should be cherished. Maybe she seeks him out at the gold camp? Knows he will pay attention to her even if her parents will not. Clara. And with those few lines, suddenly it felt as if a tiny key had been turned in a lock, and the underpinnings of Titus’s story suddenly came into focus: His wife, daughter, and two sons were killed during an Indian raid; he blames himself for the loss of his family; he carries a heavy burden of grief and guilt. Now, with Clara, his soul finds redemption. He finds a way to move out of his grief and self-recrimination by taking care of the little girl. Until I typed the word Clara, I hadn’t even thought of including her. Then suddenly, the entire story made sense.