Writer's Life / Writing

Dracula, The Wild West, & Me

I’ve been flirting with Dracula for a very long time. I was 11-12 years old when I read it the first time. It’s been in public domain since before I was born, but I am only now taking full advantage of that. I’ve read it no fewer than 9 times and yet when I opened it again for research purposes in November of 2023, I discovered something I never grasped in all those times before! I took the realization as a sign that I was starting down the right path. I will give but one hint in regard to the sign, “Hillingham”, for it is there in Gravesend, England, at the home of Lord Arthur Holmwood Godalming that my personal writing journey into the land of undead begins.

No, Dracula will NOT be making an appearance, nor will Lucy, Mina, Johnathan, or Renfield be in the tale I am contriving. There will be other names, some familiar, most new, but all inspired by the one, the only, King of Vampires, Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

I don’t remember a time when I was not interested in the Victorian period, mostly as experienced in England. In fact, the notion that that same time-period existed in the United States seemed (maybe still seems) a bit strange, except we call it The Wild West. Victorian England covers the reign of Queen Victoria, 1837 to 1901, while the Old West period in America ranges from around 1803, the time of the Louisiana Purchase, until 1910 or so. A longer period of time than the Victorian but enough substantial overlap to consider them almost one in the same.

But, oh how very different are the images conjured up in our minds when we think of the Victorian Era England verses the American Wild West! The Wild West conjures up images of Billy the Kid, Jesse James, Wyatt Earp and the gunfight at the O.K. Coral. What even would we define as “Wild West” literature? Dime novels that portrayed life in the frontier pitting ‘savage’ Natives and bandit gunfighters against ranchers, lawmen, and infamous ‘Hanging Judges’ from which the modern Western novel sprang? What about Mark Twain, Edgar Allen Poe, Emily Dickinson, and Louisa May Alcott?  And indeed, I love them all – some more than others, but still, you get the idea.

Speaking of “Wild West” literature, how does the year 1871 grab you? I mentioned in my last blog post something my grandmother gave me decades ago, the typed version of her grandmother’s travel journal titled My Journey West. I have no idea where my grandmother got it from, nor who typed it, but I’ve always thought it was a very cool piece of family history and I’ve always wanted to make it something more than it was. I have no crazy notion that it’s going to be a big seller. It’s pretty niche family genealogy stuff, but hey, who knows? So, if you have an interest in Tioga County NY or Plainfield Iowa history, check out Eudora Boughton Legg’s 1871 travel journal, My Journey West through Amazon in early February.

I love diaries and\or journals and have kept one of my own since 1977. My great-great-grandmother, daughter of the above-mentioned Eudora Legg, was also a great one to keep a diary. Many of them have found a home in our local county historical society. They end a mere ten days before her death and I think it’s damn cool she and I share a December 29th birthday, give or take 109 years.  Maybe my love of diaries also adds to the love I have for Dracula. It’s one heck of an epistolary and ‘Dear Diary’ genre novel. And it’s because of that attraction that my novel too, will be written in the same style, a combination of letters, diary entries, and news clippings. Or, at least, that’s the plan. So far, so good – the flirtation continues.

What I’ve been reading:

Dracula (again) by Bram Stoker

Kill Me, Elmo, The Holiday Depression Fun Book by Jim Mullen

Big Magic, Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert

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Adventures / Writing

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

Ah, that first English assignment when returning to school after the summer off. How I always looked forward to that moment. Yes, I was a strange child, but I think that was established some time ago and I have since grown up to be a bit left-of-center adult. Now that school is out for the kiddies, my mind drifts back to those care-free days and those two months of pretty much doing as I pleased. Oh, to be that kid again.

When I realized that the “What I Did On My Summer Vacation” writing assignment was pretty much an annual event for English teachers, I began to consider what odd thing I could do to make my assignment stand out from the rest of the Muggle Crowd. (Of course, we didn’t have Muggles back then as these were the pre-Harry Potter days, but you get the idea.) God forbid I should do something entirely normal. I can’t remember all of those summers, but there is one that sticks out in my mind the most. I spent at least three weeks of one particular summer vacation in the nearby cemetery. Well, not full time there, but during the days. I probably would have spent the nights, but I’m sure my parents (as well as the authorities) would have frowned on such a thing.

I’ve never had a fear of cemeteries like so many people do. No idea why. They just aren’t in the least bit scary to me day or night. I’ve always enjoyed wandering among headstones taking pictures and enjoying the peace and restful quiet they offer. On this particular summer, however, I was on a mission.

At least three days a week for nearly a month, I’d load up my Army green backpack with lunch, my little transistor radio, lined paper, graph paper, a supply of pencils and a sharpener, a pen, and my camera in the morning. I’d toss it over my back and hop onto my bike for the mile and a half ride to Berkshire Evergreen Cemetery. Once there, I’d set to work.

I worked my way north to south, west to east, getting deeper and deeper into the cemetery. One by one my graph paper filled with tiny black squares, each marked with its own unique number. Each one set in a sub-divided section of the grounds created by the various roadways throughout. On my lined paper I started with Section 1. Grave #1. And wrote down everything on the headstone associated with that space. My goal was to document and map every headstone in the place. That, to me, was summertime fun!

I couldn’t have been happier or prouder of my time spent there. This was a huge undertaking even for an adult and here I was probably about 12-13 years old doing it all on my own for the mere amusement of the thing. I did eventually complete the project and boy did I have something unusual to write about come September and the inevitable English essay.

Unfortunately, this tale does not have the ending I wish it did. For years I kept that project alive. I’d add black squares and information as new graves were created. But… now, almost forty years later, I have NO idea whatsoever what happened to the folder I had it all in. That really could have been a useful tool for future genealogists! I can’t imagine throwing it out. I can’t imagine either of my parents throwing it out had they come across it over the years. I mean, sheesh, my dad once presented me with a small composition notebook he’d found from my elementary school days full of little stories I’d written as writing assignments!

The years have gone by and I no longer have to write “What I Did On My Summer Vacation” essays for English class, but I kind of wish I did. Vacations don’t last for two months anymore and they usually don’t take place in the summer. I’m old and try to escape the New York winters for a couple weeks now.

That isn’t to say that I still don’t enjoy spending some of my summer days wandering through nearby cemeteries taking pictures and enjoying the peace and quiet that being surrounded by the dead brings me. Old habits die hard and I’d rather this one not pass away until I do.

So.. what are your plans for summer vacation?

Featured Image: Berkshire Evergreen Cemetery, Berkshire, NY. Courtesy of the author.

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