Tag: Colorado

“Daddy Mine” Revisited

~ Richard Solano ~ Leave a comment

I don’t know why, but my unfinished novel “Daddy Mine” has been on my mind a lot lately.

I decided I should revisit it this week and share a little with you.

It started as bedtime stories when my kids were little.

I wrote quite a bit of it way back then.

I just peeked at the manuscript.

Let’s just say my writing has come a long way since then.

So this evening I decided to rewrite the first few pages to share a little of the story with you.

It’s really not much more than an introduction to the main character.

Please keep in mind this is unedited writing. Much will likely change.

I’ll tell you a little more at the end.

Until then, here’s the beginning to “Daddy Mine.”

            “Sarah’s a loser!” The cadre of pretty girls came right up behind her.

            “Your uncle’s a dirty drunk bar keep.”

            Sarah kept walking home, ignoring the town girls. 

            “Your aunt is a mean old witch.”

            No objections from Sarah.

            “And your dad was a murderer!”

            Something exploded in her head.

            Sarah spun and decked 14-year-old Clara.

            Clara’s two friends jumped in and the dusty lane in Kearneyville, Colorado became a blur of punches, shoves, grabs, ripping dresses and screaming.

            Until Miss Heber, their teacher, rounded the corner.

            The girls scattered.

            Sarah gathered her books and made to run.

            “Sarah Hurdle, stay right there!”

            Sarah froze at the stern voice, torn between the rebel that wanted to run and the respectful 12-year-old girl who both feared and adored her teacher.

            “Care to explain that?”

            Her tongue froze as the words jumbled into a log jam that refused to flow past her lips.

            “You know that I cannot condone fighting, especially among young ladies.” The young teacher gently lifted Sarah’s face with a hand under her chin.

            Sarah struggled to maintain a stoic face even as a tear at the edge of her eye threatened to betray her.

            Miss Heber’s face softened as she pulled Sarah to her into a loose embrace. “You were giving those three girls a run for their money.”

            “You shoulda’ seen Clara’s face.”

            “Sarah!” Miss Heber’s scold was mild but unmistakable. “You’d better get home.”

            The two separated and the teacher looked Sarah over.

            “Your Aunt’s going to throw a fit when she sees that dress.”

            “I can handle her.” Even as she said it, Sarah dreaded Aunt Penny’s reaction.

            “See you tomorrow in class.”

            “Okay.” Sarah turned and ran down the hill to Lowtown, the section of Kearneyville below downtown where most of the saloons and gambling halls were.

            As she ran across the muddy ditch and over the train tracks, a story of slipping in the mud and tearing her dress in the fall took shape. The far side of the tracks, being in the shade still had plenty of snow in wet, hardened drifts.

            At least she could wash her hands in the snow and grab a chunk of the icy stuff to soothe her swollen knuckles.

            The summer of 1892 was just a few weeks away and she looked forward to spending her days in the woods, escaping the judgement she felt pressing around her.

            Despite it being the less respectful part of town, Sarah felt more at home in Lowtown. Music already poured from a couple of the saloons putting a bounce in her step as she passed.

            Uncle Harold and Aunt Penny’s house sat along the creek with a dozen other older run-down homes.

            Her two cousins, Jimmy and Teddy, sat on the front porch, shirtless in the chilly spring air. Each had a stick and a knife, carving what they surely thought were fierce looking spears.

            “No passin’ here ‘til you pay toll.”

            She leaned close to ten-year-old Jimmy. “How ‘bout I just tell your mama about you not showing up for school today.”

            Jimmy stared at her. “Maybe we could forget the toll if you forget about that little thing.”

            “What thing?” She walked past them and made straight for the ladder to the loft.

            “‘Bout time you got here.” Aunt Penny mixed something at the table by the old wood-stove. “Get outta your school dress and… Lord have mercy, what did you do?”

            Sarah forced tears to her eyes as she explained. “The trail is all covered in mud. You know how slick it is around the tracks.” She let Aunt Penny make up the lie in her imagination so she wouldn’t actually have to tell it.

            “Well, you’re sewing it this time. I showed you how. First, get changed and bring in some more wood.”

            “Why can’t Jimmy and Teddy bring in wood?”

            “They’re just kids.”

            “Jimmy’s bigger than me.”

            Aunt Penny glared at her.

            “Fine.” Sarah’s skinned knee stung as she flew up the ladder and ducked behind the old curtain that defined her corner of the loft.

            She plopped face first onto the thin mattress, pulling the frayed old pillow tight to herself for a moment of escape into her own little world.

            She closed her eyes and tried to bring back the distant memories of her mom and dad, imagining being hugged by them as she squeezed the pillow flat.

That’s it for the little peek into the world of Sarah Hurdle.

If you hadn’t figured it out (then my writing is worse than I thought) Sarah is an orphan in the fictional mining town of Kearneyville, Colorado in the 1890’s.

It is a middle-grade (10-14 year old readers) novel full of adventure, drama, and suspense as Sarah tries to figure out what really happened to her parents.

Let me know if you want to read on as I am toying with the idea of completing this novel.

As always, thanks for visiting!

Exciting Writing in the Nifty Fifties

~ Richard Solano ~ Leave a comment

All too soon, I’ll be entering my last year as a fifty something.

I can hear you –

Wow – you’re old!

Of course, I claim to be 29 with 30 year’s experience.

I must confess – I sometimes feel like I’m in my 50’s.

I just did an all-nighter with our youth group. I had no problem staying awake despite the hours of laser tag, go-cart racing, ga-ga ball and 9-square. But now, a day and a half later, I’m still sore.

Regardless of the aches and waning stamina, this has been the best decade of my life.

So far.

Each decade of my life has had it’s pains and joys, failures and triumphs.

This decade started with marriage.  I got to see three of my kids become adults. I began teaching a group of boys whom I will lead at church through their graduation in 2028.

All that is good, but one of the most exciting parts of my fifties is the fact that I started learning how to write at a higher level.

It’s an ongoing process and I admit I am breaking the rules with this rambling blog. Still, it’s been an incredible journey.

I have loved seeing these crazy ideas swimming around my head taking shape on paper.

I do have one regret.

Had I known what joy writing would bring me, I would have started when I was younger. 

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve enjoyed my career in technology. It’s just that I now realize what a joy that writing is.

If you are young and have been bitten by the writing bug – pursue it!

If, like me, you’re not so young anymore and have experienced that blazing urge to write – pursue it!

Some of you may have the luxury of pursuing writing in college. That’s awesome.

Most of us will never make a full-time income from writing. For us, there are still many ways to pursue our writing.

I have compiled a short list of resources for the Christian writer which I will upload to the resources page on my website (as soon as I create it).

These are just a few of the resources available to writers to learn and grow and connect to other writers, agents, and publishers.

I created this list for a Christian writers small group that I lead every other Monday evening. Anyone in the Denver area is welcome to join us. We meet every other Monday (including this Monday, Feb. 27, 2023) at 6:30pm at the Café at Barnes and Noble at 120th and Washington in Thornton, CO.

There are similar groups that meet all over the country.  They are a great place to start exploring the options available to the new writer.

Make this next decade the best in your life and if the bug has bitten you, make writing part of it!

Flaky Outlook

~ Richard Solano ~ 2 Comments

When I was a kid, snow was a thing of awe!

Growing up in Fresno, CA, I can recall only one time that it snowed at our home. All the kids went out into the yard to scrape together snowballs, build a small snowman, and have a snowball fight.

All the kids but me. I somehow managed to come down with a cold that day. Mom wouldn’t let me go outside.

Then we moved to San Mateo, near the coast and snow was a few hours’ drive away.

Now I live in Colorado and tend to take snow for granted.

Snow in the forecast conjures up visions of shoveling, bumper to bumper traffic, and fender benders.

I caught that snowflake above last Thursday at Eldora Ski Resort where they hope to open this week! My customer there pointed out the amazing flake shapes that were coming down. They’re tough to capture on a phone camera but they were really cool (literally).

Despite the awesome snowflakes,

I have a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that winter is coming.

The short days and cold, achy temperatures get me down.

I’ve wondered before what advice I would give to my younger self. Maybe I should flip that script.

What would my younger self tell me about winter?

  • “You’re so lucky you just have to go outside to play in the snow.”
  • “If I could afford it, I’d put up a million Christmas lights, and leave them up all winter!”
  • “I bet it’d be fun to go sliding in your car around a snow-covered parking lot!”
  • “Mmmmm, hot chocolate!”
  •             “I can catch more snowflakes on my tongue than you!”

Maybe I’ll listen to my younger self this winter.

I’m certainly game for more Christmas lights. I’ve already had my first hot chocolate of the season. And if we get a big snowstorm, don’t be surprised if you see an even bigger snowman on out front lawn!

For now, I intend to enjoy these next few warm days before it really starts cooling off.

Pardon me while I go get the sleds ready while the garage is still warm…

The Sound of Silence

~ Richard Solano ~ Leave a comment

 

My legs burned.

My breathing was heavy but calming.

I leaned against a stump.

The moment my feet stopped, I felt the profound quiet.

My ears rang with the suddenness. My footfalls had been loud compared with the absence of sound that surrounded me.

True, the silence wasn’t complete. A distant plane faintly hummed. The occasional car could be heard in the canyon far below. But, those sounds were distant and very faint. Bird calls and faint wind song were all that could be heard close by.

I took out my phone and started photographing the view. As I concentrated on composing a scene with a weathered dead tree, Boulder Canyon below, and the morning sun beyond I was startled by a strange noise.

I turned toward the sound seeing nothing but a pair of hawks flying away. Then I realized, it was quiet enough to hear the sound of their wings beating.

I lingered on top of Sugarloaf Mountain for some time. I don’t know how long. There was no one else there and my mind soaked up the silence like a desert traveler soaks in water.

I made it back home before noon and kept busy the rest of the day with typical Saturday responsibilities. My legs were sore but my sole was rested.

At creation, God set the standard for rest – one in seven days. I do a lousy job of sticking to that standard. But, one thing I’ve learned is that my mind needs rest as much as my body does. Yesterday was a good day of rest for my mind. I need more of those.