Mountain Men to Swordsmen ~ or Swordswomen

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As many of my followers know, my writing focus has turned from PIONEERS TO PEOPLE OF THE STONES. My first published book portrays the story of my great-great-grandmother who came west over the Oregon Trail and ultimately settled on the farm I now own. Entitled A Place of Her Own that book opened the door for another pioneer story, this time a novel about a young woman who’s a reluctant pioneer in Oregon. Her first day at their destination she meets two mountain men, the historic Joe Meek and the fictional Jake Johnston. These two mountain men play a pivotal role in the story, The Shifting Winds.

I’ve been writing posts for this blog since 2012, and the most viewed of all my many posts is The TRUE Shifting Winds ~ 3: Mountain Men.

The painting here was done by artist Andy Thomas, used by the artist’s permission to portray mountain men in my promotion of The Shifting Winds. Dubbed by Thomas the “first mountain man,” the work portrays one of the notable American fur trappers John Colter, whose story can be found on the popular above-mentioned post.

What is it about these mountain men that still fascinates folks today? Reenactors and enthusiasts called “black powder men” gather regularly to dress up and shoot their historic black-powder weapons.

The original mountain men came out of the fur trade era of the mid-1800s when Britain and US were vying for the Oregon Territory. The British had a firm grip on the fur trade in the west with their Hudson’s Bay Company headquartered in what is now Vancouver, Washington. The Americans focused their attention on the Rocky Mountains, east of the contested area, and they developed a system where the trappers could stay in the mountains year round and gather at a rendezvous every summer to trade their furs.

The above painting shows the arrival of the caravan bringing supplies to the mountain rendezvous, painted by Alfred Jacob Miller who went west to document the event. The rendezvous became a raucous time for the trappers who became known as mountain men. A colorful group, they were tough. They had to be to survive. And they enjoyed certain freedoms to live as they chose, as long as they honored the limits of the wilderness and the people who lived there. They made friends with some Native Americans, fought with others. Always on the lookout for ever-present danger.

Since the release of my two pioneer stories my focus has turned to the more ancient people of Ireland, who call themselves People of the Stones for the sacred stone circles and other megaliths they honor.

And in those ancient settings enemies were met not with guns but with swords. And the brilliant sword fighter might be a woman rather than a man.

Shown below is one of the famous Hallstatt bronze swords, the chosen weapon of the Proto-Celts who in 750 BC flourished in their high mountain home above today’s picturesque modern village of Hallstatt, Austria. This sword crafted by one of the smiths in those long-ago days is on display at the wonderful Hallstatt museum.

The Irish do love their Celts, but my story opens in Ireland in 750 BC before the Celts could have arrived in Ireland in any numbers, and they probably didn’t call themselves Celts that early. My female protagonist, caught in a dilemma in her Irish homeland, will travel far to seek help and learn the craft not only of making such a sword but of fighting with it too. However, she has to pose as a man there, because her trainer wouldn’t teach her if he knew she was a woman.

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Summer Solstice Character Walks In

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A year ago I was wondering about the date of Summer Solstice, since it varies from year to year. I checked online and as often happens other related sites popped up. One was the story of an Irish goddess named Áine associated with midsummer and the sun. And as if I had called for her a child by the name of Ainne just walked onto my screen. I tweaked the spelling to give it the sound I heard.

Ainne of Éire has now become the protagonist in the third book of my trilogy set in the eighth century B.C. On this Summer Solstice I celebrate her because I’m now in the process of writing her story. An exciting time when inspiration flowers and a story takes life.

The many stone circles along the Atlantic seaboard, including Ireland and Britain, appear to be situated to mark the passage of the seasons, including the solstices and the equinoxes. Above is the sacred stone circle of Ainne’s clan in the south of Éire, the Golden Eagle Clan, the circle called today the Bohonagh Stone Circle. It’s set on a rise in ground in the middle of a cow pasture. Looking westward you can see through the two portal stones to the aligning recumbent stone opposite.

Ainne’s clan circle in its entirety, shown above as I approached it from the other direction, climbing up the hill, looking eastward, the recumbent stone in the foreground, the portals on the far side.

And here I am at the better known Stonehenge on Britain’s Salisbury Plain, shown above. Stonehenge also aligns to mark the solstices. This famous stone circle plays a part in a related series that will follow my trilogy.

And these, above, in the fine stone circle near Ainne’s, home of the neighboring Red Deer Clan, known today as the Drombeg Stone Circle. I’m here with the wonderful host of the nearby Rosalithir B&B, Catherine O’Sullivan, who drove my friend and I there. This circle is protected under Ireland’s National Monument Act. Near the highway R 597 it is easily accessed and well maintained.

And probably the oldest I’ve seen, above, the Cromlech Almendres in Portugal, perhaps as much as 7,000 years old. This fine circle in a cork oak forest also appears in one of my stories.

And, above, the Castlerigg Stone Circle, my Red Fox Clan circle, beautifully set in a wider ring of mountains in England’s Lake District, probably the oldest in Britain, roughly 5,000 years old, though recent discoveries at Stonehenge suggest activity around that site that may go back as much as 5,000 years.

One might think the past would be static, but no. Archaeologists keep digging, and the stories change.

Happy solstice! Enjoy the extended light on this longest day of the year. Cheers!

For the Love of Ireland – It’s a Trilogy

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One of the most exciting things for a writer is when the ideas flood in. I’m thrilled to say that I’ve been having that kind of creative fever with one more story set in ancient Ireland. This one will make a trilogy.

I took the photo above when I had just stepped away from the heart of my trilogy, the Bohonagh Stone Circle in southern Ireland near the small town of Rosscarbery. It’s the sacred Golden Eagle Circle for my fictional clan. I glanced back to see it one more time before I left on my last visit, wondering if I would ever see it again. This image with the powerful clouds nearly took my breath away.

I’ve been living virtually in ancient Ireland for some time now as I set my stories in that enchanting place. Why do I love Ireland so much? Because it’s like home but with cool ancient stuff? I recently posted comparative pictures on Facebook, posing that question.

There’s this, below, one of Ireland’s back roads, a short walk from the wonderful Rosalithir B&B where I stay. The stone circle on the skyline isn’t quite visible in the shot.

And next, below, the hill above my house. Someone mentioned that I simply had to imagine the castles and ruins on my hill.

So maybe there’s some inspiration right outside my door.

I sent book two to my agent last week. She has book one already. Yesterday I wrote the first four pages of the third in the trilogy to see how my new thoughts looked on the page. I’ll stop now and follow my usual process. I’m an outliner, so I’ll outline. I already have the storyline, the list of scenes I use to track it, and I’ve organized my many notes in the order of that storyline. So from that I’ll do the outline, which for book two took three weeks. And from the outline I’ll write the first draft.

Things will shift. New ideas will come. That always happens. But it’s real now. I feel the distress of my protagonist, her hopes, her fears. I’m beginning to know the other players. It’ll be pure delight for me to step back into her world, that enchantment of Ireland. I call it Éire, an older name for Ireland, if not as old as my story, which begins in 713 B.C.

Then with the conclusion of the third in the trilogy I’ll turn my focus to the rest of the collection, which will be a saga of prequels about the ancestors of my characters in the trilogy.

In the photo below, it’s their sacred circle close-up, where they come to dance and bring the sky and earth together, or to find quiet and connection. And more.

And below, from the southern stone to the sea. Note how the slant of the stone’s top echoes the slant of the gap to the blue water.

And down to the sea below their village, where my new protagonist was shocked as a child by how cold the water was.

Spring Celebration of the Arts

Janet Fisher2 Comments

Artists and Authors celebrated the beginning of spring last weekend at a gala in historic Oakland, Oregon, at the wonderful 1905 Oakland Ice House, hosted by Conni Westford Riley. I so enjoyed being a part of this event and sharing my books there.

Me at my table next door to Jim Hart’s display of his delightful children’s books. I believe he was in the next room with his guitar offering music at that moment.

The room with its old brick walls and antique furnishings offered a lovely setting for the event and our host Conni Riley added many special touches.

Here’s Conni in the photo below next to my table where I sold and signed books, A Place of Her Own and The Shifting Winds, my Oregon pioneer stories. Also on the table is a book of photos, including pictures of Ireland, setting for my next book. Conni did the beautiful display above the table, adding my “Author” sign to her decor, a sign I have used since I received it from the Oaklanders who made it for me at an event they sponsored some years ago. I especially loved the violin. Nice touch.

Conni Westford Riley at my table.

Conni offers this space at the old Oakland Ice House for fundraisers for non-profits, community dinners, movies, including chick flicks, and other group shows. This was the first spring event for artists and authors and hopefully she’ll do it again next year.

Carolyn St. Clair and two of her adorable friends.

One of the authors/artists, Carolyn St. Clair, brought some of her wonderful woolie characters along with her book entitled A Swete Book of Tales. The “Swete” comes from her grandmother’s middle name. This third character represents spring.

Carolyn’s book displays 50 of these characters in full color with enchanting stories for each one. She has made each character by hand (in fact she was working some wool during the event to show the process). I’m not good at estimating sizes but I would guess they’re about two feet tall. The books are available on Amazon.

Another skilled artisan at the event was Peppi Melick of Peppi’s Pottery.

Her sales gallery is in Roseburg, Oregon, on Cleveland Rapids Road.

Here she is with some of her beautiful work.

Peppi Melick

And for a wide look at the room here’s Elaesa Jones, below, a young author with unbounded energy and enthusiasm, with a collection of her books, There Once Was a Rabbit, Tales by the Fire, and many more. She loves magic and delving into fantastical realms for her stories. I found her online by going directly to “elaesa jones books.”

Elaesa Jones

This is just a sample of the artists and authors. Visitors included longtime friends and new folks I thoroughly enjoyed chatting with as well. An excellent event all around.

Spring Event at Historic Oakland

Janet Fisher

Spring is springing this Friday, March 20, and I’m happy to announce I’ll be signing books at a springtime event starting that Friday evening at 6 o’clock in the historic town of Oakland, Oregon, and running through Saturday, and Sunday afternoons, March 21, and 22. It’s the Spring Artists & Authors Open House and Showcase for the whole family with music and storytelling and sparkling cider with some sweet bits to eat. And the event is free.

In my previous experiences at Oakland events I’ve found that these Oaklanders hold delightful parties that can take you right into the past. This one will be held indoors at the 1905 Oakland Ice House, 212 SE Locust Street, a setting brimming with true history.

A personal aside: I’m also celebrating the completion of the rough draft for a new novel set in ancient Ireland, a sequel to the one my new literary agent is pitching to editors. I’ll have pictures of the Irish settings on display in Oakland.

I took this photo outside the Ice House a few years ago for another historic event.

For more information on Oakland’s springtime event check out the two posters below–one made specifically for me by program coordinator Conni Riley …

… and one for the full program.

The 1905 Oakland Ice House is just up the street from the old Stearns Hardware on the corner of Locust Street and SE 2nd Street pictured below, which as the sign says goes all the way back to the year 1887.

Another photo I took a few years ago for another historic event in Oakland.

And there’s the beautiful old building across the street, pictured below, the Page & Dimmick Building that also takes a person into the past when strolling down Oakland’s center.

Another photo from the same shoot.

The Brave Ones

Janet Fisher2 Comments

Delicate. Exquisite. Brilliant in yellow. The daffodils of late winter brave every kind of weather. Pounding rain. Skiffs of snow like this morning’s chill. Sometimes they wait. They seem like long-term weather forecasters, setting expectations by the date of their appearance. Will spring be early this year? Or late? But whenever they come out they give me hope. It’s why I call them the hope flower. They let me know. Early or late, spring is coming. It always does.

It’s a little bit like being an author. The delicate lines across many pages. The bravery of putting words out there. The battering critique. The wait. The joy of acceptance.

Followers of my blog know I get a little daffy every year when the daffodils start to rise. I’ve been watching this bloom for quite a while. The swelling bud. Another bud started sooner but something nipped it off before it had a chance to open. And this one dared spread its petals first. Weighted down by drops of rain it bows still. One day soon it should lift its head and glow.

Progress on my work continues. I finished the outline for my next book today. That’s the frame from which the story will flow. It’s the sequel to the one my new agent has ready. Exciting times. Hope rises like daffodils announcing spring.

When Clouds Speak

Janet Fisher

Clouds have something to say, even when I do not know their meaning. On returning from my walk yesterday I looked up and saw this.

I marveled at the pattern and wondered what the clouds had to tell me. But forgot them in the afternoon’s work of building a new story of ancient Ireland. And dinner. And conversation. And a movie.

Around ten o’clock I looked out the window and saw a mysterious pattern of clouds still spread across the sky, lit then by the rising moon. I turned out the house lights to see them better. Then knew I must go outside for the full effect.

And saw this.

The magic of it! I stood silent. Let the glory enclose me. In an opening off to my right a star twinkled. A star! When I had immersed myself in the wonder of the eastern sky I turned and strode west and found more stars peeking out from those extraordinary clouds that reached all the way to the western horizon. Every horizon. A full crown. Then back to the rising moon in the east that lightened the entire sky.

I contemplated a photo. Surely it could not grasp this. No, but it offers a glimpse.

Clouds do speak, surely. What do they say? Scientists probably have a name for this. The ancient people of my stories would have accepted the reality. Of Magic.

Happy Solstice!

Janet Fisher2 Comments

The day of returning light. After the many long dark nights going deeper and darker it’s always uplifting to know that we’ll start seeing a little more light each day now. From times in the far distant past people have celebrated this day, finding hope and expectation in the light’s return.

Newgrange passage tomb, Ireland

I’ve mentioned before the ancient passage tomb of Newgrange in Ireland, a few miles north of Dublin. Some 5,000 years ago the people built this tomb with little more than stone tools, constructing it with such precision that on Solstice morning rays from the rising sun flash through a high doorway and stream down the narrow, 62-foot-long passage into an interior chamber, filling it with light. For what purpose? We do not know. They did not leave written word to tell us. But we can imagine.

In my new upcoming book set in ancient Ireland I describe the moment and offer the beliefs of my characters. It’s a major locale for multiple scenes. And when you read the story you will experience Solstice morning with them.

The etched kerbstone at Newgrange showing the doors to the passage

The above photo shows the upper door for the light and part of the lower door for people to enter. The carved lines on the threshold stone inspire the protagonist of my story in her artistic creations.

This is the book my new literary agent, Joëlle Delbourgo, has offered to represent. So I look forward with hope that it will soon see the light.

Introducing My New Agent

Janet Fisher6 Comments

I’m delighted to announce that I just signed with an agent to represent me on my newest historical novel set in ancient Ireland. Her name is Joëlle Delbourgo, her agency a boutique literary agency based in the greater New York City area.

Joëlle Delbourgo

Only three days after my return from the Seattle conference I got a surprise email from Joëlle, President and Founder of Joëlle Delbourgo Associates, who I had queried a couple of months before. I had sent her ten pages of my book as she requests for all submissions. Now she wanted a full manuscript.

She has a stellar background. She founded her agency in 1999. For more than twenty years before that she was a senior editorial executive at HarperCollins and Ballantine Books, a division of Random House, so she knows both sides of the publishing world. Her list of sales is impressive.

With considerable excitement I sent her my manuscript. In less than two weeks she wrote to tell me she loved my book. She wanted to talk.

We had a wonderful conversation by phone. She knew my characters. She knew my story so well she pinpointed several specific issues that can make it stronger. And she offered to represent me. I was thrilled.

It just so happened that she had traveled to Ireland last summer for the first time so she knows the land of my characters too. I’m convinced there’s a bit of magic in those green hills.

Another Fine Conference

Janet Fisher

Just back from a great writers conference in Seattle put on by the Pacific Northwest Writers Association (PNWA). Here I am on the last day with Pam Binder, PNWA President and program director of this annual event. Every year she puts together another fabulous conference with her excellent team.

Pam Binder, PNWA President, conference program director, on the left, me on the right.

When I went downstairs looking for an I-was-there photo to add to my comments on the 2025 conference I was hoping I might find Pam to get her picture, and there she was at the registration desk, happy to oblige. I also wanted to thank her one more time for coming to my rescue in the pitch session.

These conferences offer a chance for authors to meet agents and editors face to face and pitch their projects to them. It’s always upbeat at these PNWA conferences, everybody encouraging each other to do their best. I think that atmosphere starts at the top. An award-winning New York Times bestselling author, Pam knows the business, and she’s always ready to help an author reach the next level.

Bohonagh Stone Circle, West Cork, Ireland

I pitched my newest novel set in ancient Ireland featuring the People of the Stones, those mysterious stone circles and other megaliths scattered across Ireland and Britain’s west coast and on down the Atlantic seaboard.

In my story it’s 750 B.C. and the Celts wouldn’t have been in Ireland yet, but we know where they were–in Hallstatt, Austria, so my protagonist has to go there.

The goal for the author pitching an agent or editor is to get a request for material, a few chapters maybe, or 50 pages, or, best of all, the full manuscript. I’m happy to say I got a positive response from every pitch. But it wasn’t entirely simple.

Imagine the setup. All of the authors who’ve signed up for a particular block of time are led into a room where the agents and editors are sitting behind a very long table. The authors get in line for a person they want to pitch to, and each gets four minutes to describe their project and convince that person to ask for part or all of it. At the end of your four minutes a bell rings and you have to skedaddle because you don’t want to crimp the time for the person in line behind you.

So I was pitching one person and we were having an extended conversation when the bell rang. She handed me her business card and said I could stay a bit to finish the conversation because no one was behind me. But then someone did come up behind and I hurried to leave. I went out into the hall and realized I had no idea what the person I just pitched wanted from me. Maybe she told me but in the confusion I didn’t hear it. Did she want to see any of my work? I didn’t know. So in somewhat of a daze I wandered down the hall to the registration desk, where a man asked if he could help me. I saw Pam Binder looking through some papers and said, “I think I need Pam.”

I told her what had happened. She thought about it a minute, then said, “You need to go back in and get in her line again and ask her.”

Pam didn’t send me. She led me. And with her as my escort I did exactly as she said. The person greeted me and answered with enthusiasm, “I want to see the full manuscript. I want to read this.”

Yay! Now, I’m not giving away names. That’s for later, if it works out in the long run. But pitching is a challenge. Encapsulating your book into a few words that pique a desire to read it. And these positive moments are bits of gold. Thank you, Pam.

With hugs to send me off, Pam took this goodbye picture of me in my signature hat.

Happy. Optimistic. Glad for a few more bits of gold.

On my way home