The Feedsack Dress

Who are the feedsack kids?

In The Feedsack Dress, the mean queen calls the students who transfer from one-room rural schools to the town’s junior high the feedsack kids. She uses the term to label them outsiders, classmates to ignore or ridicule. She directs her disdain at Gail, the only girl in ninth grade in who wears a dress made from the colorful cotton sacks that had contained chicken feed.

Gail copes with the problems of being an outsider in 1949 in rural Missouri as the whole country adapts to new technology and urbanization. This blog tells more about that time, but the story of an outsider taking on the mean queen lives in the past, present, and future.

—Carolyn Mulford

 

 

Saluting Elizabeth Cady Stanton

Today I’m wearing my old Elizabeth Cady Stanton t-shirt. The round, unsmiling face, white hair, and formal clothing pictured on it give no hint of her fire, brilliance, and courage.

Neither did the paragraph or so about her in my history textbooks. I didn’t see a biography of this founder of the women’s movement until years after I finished school. If you’ve never read her life story, please treat yourself to one. As Women’s History Month draws to an end, your library should have two or three at hand. And you can find the basic facts online.

She came to prominence when she organized a convention on women’s rights in Seneca Falls, New York, in July 1848. Many of the 240 participants were also working to abolish slavery.  The busy young mother used the Declaration of Independence as a model for a Declaration of Sentiments to present to them. It contained 12 resolutions, the most controversial of which was the right to vote.

Those resolutions show how few rights women had. For example, a married woman yielded to her husband any wages, property, and child custody rights. A husband could beat or imprison his wife without fear of any legal consequences. Colleges did not accept women, and the few jobs open to them paid much less than what men received.

 She continued to work for women’s rights until her death in 1902. Women didn’t receive the right to vote throughout the United States until 18 years later. They have gradually gained the same legal rights as men—almost. Even now women earn much less than men. 

The movement Elizabeth Cady Stanton and her contemporaries started remains unfinished. 

—Carolyn Mulford

 

 

Ending an educational era

In my one-room rural school, doing research meant going to The World Book, a set of encyclopedias that contained a little bit about almost everything. My teacher sent me there, for example, when I argued that a whale couldn’t be a mammal because it was a fish.

In junior and senior high school, my first stop for research became the much heavier and harder to comprehend Encyclopaedia Britannica. I continued to rely on it as a starting place in college and thereafter.

For many years an old set of the books occupied a bookshelf in the hall outside my home office. When I moved back to Missouri in 2007, I had to cull many of the books collected during and since college. A high percentage went to good homes, but friends, libraries, and thrift stores (and my own common sense) told me several hundred were so outdated as to be useless.

Discarding any book distresses me, but nothing hurt so much as putting my 30-year-old Brittanica in the trash.

This week that wound reopened. Encyclopaedia Britanica, Inc., will no longer issue print editions. This marvelous source will no longer occupy a place of honor on classroom shelves. If you don’t have computer access, your questions go unanswered.

Like most students and adults, I now do most of my preliminary research online, but the Web doesn’t inspire trust the way that set of heavy tomes does. You can’t trust and you must verify what you find online.

A constantly updated (in theory) Britannica remains available online, for a price. It’s not the same. I loved the print edition not just because I found answers there but because I stumbled across wonderful unknown facts on adjoining pages. For me as a student, it opened a vast, fascinating world.

The death of the print edition marks the end of an educational era.

—Carolyn Mulford

Honoring our presidents?

In my school days George Washington’s portrait hung on every classroom wall and his birthday, February 22, was an official holiday. (Sometimes we got the day off. Sometimes we didn’t.)

It seemed unfair that February 12, the birthday of my favorite president, Abraham Lincoln, received less attention. After all, homely, humble Abe grew up in the wilderness, educated himself, and went on to preserve the union and abolish slavery. Even though Washington led rebels against fantastic odds, his picture and our tiny library’s information about him made him seem dull compared to Lincoln and even to Andrew Jackson, another of my favorites then.

Over the years I’ve visit many of the presidents’ homes, going to Washington’s Mount Vernon and Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello several times and quite willing to go again. All fascinate because of what they reveal about these men and their wives, about 90% of whom played major roles in their husbands’ rise to the presidency. The homes have spurred me to read the many excellent (and far more revealing) adult biographies.

Washington was anything but dull. Jackson, although intriguing, dropped from my favorites’ list, which now headlines Washington, Lincoln, Jefferson, John Adams, James Madison, Theodore Roosevelt, Franklin D. Roosevelt, and Harry S. Truman. Even our most obscure and least successful presidents (including James Buchanan, Millard Fillmore, Warren G. Harding) are worth reading about. Most people don’t know that Herbert Hoover, dissed because of his failure to ward off the Great Depression, accomplished great things around the world before being elected.

I was dismayed when the country went from recognizing Washington’s Birthday on February 22 to ignoring him and his successors on Presidents Day on a Monday in February. Certainly we should honor all the presidents, but this three-day weekend celebrates none.

 —Carolyn Mulford

 

Looking forward to another book

Great news! I’ve just signed a contract for another novel, this one for adults.

A publisher called Five Star will release Show Me the Murder in 2013. You’ll have to wait at least a year to find it in your local library or bookstore.

Yes, publishing a book takes a long time. So does writing one, and so does selling one to a publisher. I’ve spent years on each of these stages. I’ve been doing other things at the same time, of course.  Right now I’m editing book two of the Show Me series, writing book three, and gathering ideas and material for other books, both fiction and nonfiction.

Like The Feedsack Dress, my mystery takes place in a fictitious town in rural northern Missouri. The main character, Phoenix, is a former CIA covert operative who’s critically wounded while on a special mission in Istanbul. She returns to her hometown to recuperate and reshape her life. She arrives as Annalynn, a lifelong friend and a local civic leader, buries her husband, the sheriff. Everyone except the widow believes he shot his mistress and himself in a grungy motel. Annalynn begs the Phoenix to help prove the deaths were a double homicide, not a homicide/suicide. The old friends employ their diverse skills and cope with conflicting attitudes to discover what really happened—and to survive.

I haven’t abandoned middle grade and young adult readers. If all goes well, a historical novel will be ready for them in 2013.

—Carolyn Mulford

 

Glimpses of childhood in China today

Ever since I gave up digging my way to China, I’ve wanted to visit there. I finally made it this fall. 

One of the many things that fascinated me is how parents treasure their children, especially their sons. To be more exact, parents treasure the one child the government permits them to have. The party-ruled Chinese government began restricting the great majority of families to one child more than 20 years ago in order to curb the soaring population.

Often in the streets or parks you see a small child surrounded by four or five adults—the parents, the grandparents, aunts, or uncles. They shower attention and gifts on the household’s little emperor. Gradually officials became aware of the danger of a nation of spoiled brats, so they now encourage parents to send their single child to kindergarten, what we call pre-school, at age three so that they will learn to play with others. And get a head start on their education.

These kindergartens cost a lot, but parents and family members sacrifice to send their children there and give them the advantages that come from a good education. We visited a boarding kindergarten for three-, four-, and five-year-olds. The parents bring their children to school on Monday morning and pick them up on Friday afternoon. It’s hard to imagine how difficult this must be for parents and children, but many families regard it as their duty.

The kindergarten had the kinds of decorations you see in classrooms in the States. Each teacher (all young women) had an electronic keyboard and a blackboard. Each classroom had approximately 35 children. All wore coats in the unheated rooms. They sat at tiny desks, and they napped and slept in little beds in crowded dorm rooms. They greeted us with great enthusiasm, turning healthy, smiling faces to us or rushing to the open windows to peek over at us. Irresistibly cute.

Wherever they are, kids are kids. 

—Carolyn Mulford

 

Losing China

During World War II the United States fought with China against Japan. Americans felt great sympathy and friendship as they saw news reels of the terrible damage Japan’s army inflicted, read of General Claire Chennault’s Flying Tigers courageous defense of the poorly equipped Chinese army, and listened to pleas for support from the American-educated wife of China’s leader, General Chiang Kai-shek. 

During the war and for years after, if American children complained about meals, parents reminded them of the children starving in China. Told the war-torn country sat on the other side of the world, many of us too little to understand tried to dig our way to China.

The end of WWII led not to peace and prosperity in China but to civil war. American attempts at mediation failed. So did the general we backed. Chiang Kai-shek and much of his army fled to the island of Taiwan in 1949. In October communist leader Mao Zedong proclaimed the People’s Republic of China. He allied himself with the Soviet Union, our former ally and primary enemy. 

Everyone said we had lost China. Who was to blame? Were they traitors? Accusations flew. Some of the wildest came from Senator Joseph McCarthy. He claimed the loss and even greater threats to our liberty came from communists hidden among our political and intellectual leaders. With plenty of help, he plunged the country into some of the most disgraceful days in American history, a witch hunt for communist sympathizers and the portrayal of anyone who had ever attended a communist meeting or read a communist publication as a traitor.

For several years false accusations, fiction presented as fact, and hysterical fear destroyed reputations and lives.

When we lost China, we lost a piece of our democratic selves.

—Carolyn Mulford

 

Talking about writing

KOPN’s Jill Sheets, host of Penquin Tracks, interviewed me as part of a series on authors who write for middle grade and young adult readers. My credits include The Feedsack Dress, three YA nonfiction books, and educational materials for various levels.

Sheets broadcast the 25-minute interview in July and again in September, which is One Read Month here. She plans to post it on the radio station’s website (www.kopn.org/archives).

The 25-minute interview covered such topics as my writing process (I think before I write), the differences in writing nonfiction and fiction (nonfiction requires accuracy, fiction demands truth), what I’m writing now for both children and adults, and the best advice on writing I ever received.

Many people—editors, readers, strangers—offer advice on writing, and I listen. I can always learn something new, and I can usually tell what to ignore. Here are three deceptively simple bits of wisdom I’ve heard and said again and again.

1. Don’t give up (particularly in writing and marketing fiction).
2. Know your readers (particularly in writing nonfiction).
3. Read what you want to write.

If you write fiction, take a look at my report from Killer Nashville (a mystery writers’ conference) on why agents and editors stop reading a manuscript. Go to my website (http://carolynmulford.com) and click on News.

—Carolyn Mulford

 

Wearing feedsack dresses

Writer Eva Ridenour sent me this recollection of wearing feedsack dresses.

My two sisters and I all had feedsack dresses that our mother made from the same pink flowered pattern. It had a plain white insert in the front and we wore them only when we were "dressed up." I have a picture of the three of us when I was about six or seven years old and my youngest sister was about two.

Although we were town kids dad raised chickens and hogs therefore, he needed to buy food at the feed store. Mom always went along to pick out the kind of print for the feed and saved up until she had enough to make the dresses.

I remember wearing them until I was about ten. Then I think feed started coming in paper sacks, or else she got too busy doing other things to make anymore feed sack dresses.

 

Starting school in the heat

Thanks to air conditioning, schools now start in August rather than waiting for September’s cooler weather as we did in the mid-20^th century. Living on the farm, I experienced air conditioning mostly by going to cowboy movies on Saturday afternoons and musicals on Sunday afternoon.

Even in September students—grade school, high school, and college—often had trouble staying awake in the afternoons. Teachers would open the high windows and the door in each classroom first thing in the morning to cool off the room and bring in any breeze. Some students used the paper fans passed out by funeral homes to produce their own breezes.

In grade school the heat didn’t stop us from playing full tilt at noon. We had 15 minutes to eat whatever we brought for lunch (no refrigeration) and 35 minutes to have fun before the teacher rang the hand bell. It warned us we had 10 minutes to run to the outhouses (one for girls, one for boys) and to line up at the well for a drink of cold water.

Our steaming bodies must have raised the room temperature several degrees when we came inside. The teacher would read us a chapter of a book to quiet us down. About 2:30 everyone woke up enough to run outside for another 15 minutes of play. That kept us awake until school ended at 4:00, when we walked up to a mile home to do chores.

No wonder kids went to bed early and slept well in those days.

—Carolyn Mulford

 

Reading under and in the trees

Summer meant lots of work on the farm, but it also offered time to read, especially if I took my book beyond the sound of my mother’s call and out of sight of my little sister. 

When I didn’t have much time, I’d sprawl on an old blanket under a maple tree in our front yard. If I had a couple hours free, I’d sneak away from the house into the pasture and lean against a huge elm tree. Usually the dog would lead my pesky little sister to me.

I found a better hiding place in a cottonwood tree bya clear running stream too small to be called a creek (pronounced crick). I could climb up a few feet and wedge myself between the branches. I wasn’t visible unless someone stood right below me and looked up.

Many of the small library’s books were classics or simply old. Fortunately I loved historical novels. Here are some of the authors and titles I remember.

R. D. Blackmore: Lorna Doone   (I reread this 600-page book before a trip to England a few years ago and marveled that I’d read the whole thing at 13 or 14)

Pearl Buck: The Good Earth   (on my list to reread)

Edward Bulwer-Lytton: The Last Days of Pompei   (good story, ponderous writing)

Willa Cather: O Pioneers, My Antonia, The Song of the Lark   (still worth reading) 

Winston Churchill: Richard Carvell, The Crisis    (huge in his day; forgotten now)

James Fennimore Cooper: The Last of the Mohicans     (clunky writing, intriguing content)

Alfred Leland Crabb:  A Mockingbird Sang at Chickamauga    (riveting then)

Charles Dana: Two Years Before the Mast    (goes well with Moby Dick)

Charles Dickens: A Tale of Two Cities, Oliver Twist   (Dickens will live forever)

Lloyd C. Douglas: The Robe, Magnificent Obsession, The Big Fisherman   (wildly popular at one time but mostly forgotten)

Edna Ferber: So Big       (better for an adult than an adolescent)

Zane Grey: Riders of the Purple Sage    (one of many fast-paced tales)

Nathaniel Hawthorne: The House of Seven Gables, The Scarlet Letter   (read mostly in lit classes today)

Herman Melville: Moby Dick     (everyone knows the whale, few read the classic)

Margaret Mitchell: Gone With the Wind      (a category in itself)

Kenneth Roberts: Northwest Passage     (strong historical narrative)

Robert Louis Stevenson: Kidnapped, Treasure Island   (classics)

William Makepeace Thackeray: Vanity Fair       (neglected classic)

Mark Twain: Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn, The Prince and the Pauper, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, Roughing It, Life on the Mississippi  (I’ve never stopped reading Twain)

Lew Wallace: Ben-Hur    (heavy going today; you need to like history a lot)

Owen Wister: The Virginian      (period piece but timeless characters)

Harold Bell Wright: The Shepherd of the Hills, The Trail of the Lonesome Pine (dated writing but interesting portrait of a time and place—the Ozarks)

I never enjoyed books more than when I read them in the shade of a tree.

—Carolyn Mulford