I've been asked numerous times about the reasons for writing a novel. I must tell you it was not something I had planned to do
(...like a bucket list item.). It really was even more organic than that.
I had been spending a lot of time at a place called Bonneville Point which is in the hills east of Boise, Idaho. The story of Bonneville Point in itself is rather interesting but had nothing to do with starting to write a novel about the Oregon Trail. Anyway, Bonneville Point is ostensibly where the Boise River and subsequently, the settlement of Boise City got its name.
It seems that one of the members of Captain Benjamin Bonneville's party upon seeing the beautiful, wooded river below their vantage point on the high overlook exclaimed,
"Le bois, le bois, voyez le bois!" When translated means, "The trees, the trees, look (or see) the trees." These men had been traveling through the high sagebrush desert for sometime and had not seen trees for sometime, much less the beautiful, salmon filled stream that was flowing from the mountains. So Captain Bonneville named the stream Boise and the settlement which grew up there took the name as well and Boise has been known as the city of trees ever since.
Bonneville Point is an area where the ruts from the passing wagon trains on the Oregon Trail are clearly visible and can be explored on foot. I was walking on a near perfect early September evening when the only sounds seemed to be an occasional fly buzzing by and maybe the sound of my own heart beating. As I walked the ruts, my own footfalls were crunching on the rocky ground and then I suddenly stopped because of a somewhat chilling experience. I could hear other footsteps. I quickly turned around expecting to see another hiker behind me, but there was nothing.
As I stood there, more sounds seemed to be emanating from the trail itself. I could hear wagon wheels creaking, oxen gently grunting and huffing and voices of men, women and children conversing as they walked along. What at first seemed to be audio hallucinations, suddenly became very real to me. The experience lasted for just a few minutes but was very profound, especially to a natural born skeptic like me.
I walked back to my car and sat down, trying to explain it to myself and not having any luck to logically define what had just happened to me, I accepted it. Then names started flashing into my mind and descriptions of characters. I knew I had to start scribbling some notes. I grabbed a notebook from my briefcase and started writing down everything that had popped into my mind. I must say at this point, I thought maybe I was dreaming and that I would wake up soon and realize it was just a fantasy. I put down the notebook and drove to the spot I was camping for the night and nervously drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, I woke, fixed a nice big breakfast then nervously opened my notebook. There on the pages were the makings of a story that I thought maybe I had just imagined in my sleep. It was real and so was the experience. I didn't share this with anyone for quite some time but when I finally did, I found that I was not the only one who had experienced such things. I never accepted it as "normal" but I did accept the fact that such things do happen.
(Maybe that in itself is an idea for another story down the road.)
I began to write down the story as it came to me. I used my notes and began to flesh out my characters and their stories. I still don't know how it will all turn out, but I know that it is an itch I have to scratch and it will not go away until the story is told.
I will be sharing chapters from the story on this blog as I use it for sort of a central management point for the entire project, meaning the book as well as the research that goes into it. I am hoping it will be an interesting experience for me and my readers as we watch the story of Chance Hunter unfold before us and witness the birth of a novel.
Thanks for your interest.
