Friday February 23, 2024

 IT’S LATE AT NIGHT

And it hasn’t escaped me that I have been reading for several hours today. Kind of great. The course “Obssessive Essayist” is over and it was great. And I will see if I can download the outline for my book here. Today was Gigi’s day at the spa. I did get some more paper at Costco and still have more errands to run but tomorrow I have a poetry class. It gets so late so quickly when your mind is filled with ideas and entertained by great writing. 

Your name: Barbara Bentz

Book title: The Secrets He Kept or Bits and Pieces

Introduction:

A series of essays on the effort it took to hide the experimentation with chemicals for WWI and WWII and through the 50s, and the impact on one person and his family. The book is an exploration of the attempt to recreate a timeline through research on the Manhattan Project, the use of cloroflourochemicals, mustard gas, and radioactive materials. It is a search for an understanding of secrets and how they are kept, and an attempt to understand the context of that history.

Book overview:

At this point in time there is a kind of understanding of the more famous people involved in that history but not into the ordinary people who were involved. Kind of a history of all the forgotten people.

Comparable books:

I am not sure about the stories of everyday peopled, anyone have any ideas. The Book PLASTIC

Target audience:

Not sure, maybe one member of my family.

Sample chapter:

Bits and Pieces

Bits and Pieces, were all I had left of my Dad. A few tattered photos. What was his childhood like? 

At 82 years old and after his head injury he didn’t remember. Even though my siblings had lived, fished and hunted with him, and for the last year my sister cared for him in her home. He didn’t recognize any of us. I worried he might be helpless. My sister let me know he could do simple tasks, with detailed instructions, like painting.

So, hopeful I could help him, keep him occupied, perhaps also care for him, I explained the task, he looked at me with his blue eyes. 

PICTURE OF THE SKY

Still I wondered what life was like for him. I knew his friends called him “Charlie” and he was recognized and appreciated at work, an engineer for 50 years. He didn’t remember any of that either.

PICTURE OF HIM RECEIVING AN AWARD AT WORK

MAYBE A PICTURE OF A TEXT FROM WORK

I knew he grew up on the Iron Range, where open pit mines were as deep as the deepest lake and just as broad

PICTURE OF THE MINE

Where roads rusted

PICTURE OF ROAD

He told me about splitting wood, swamp wood he called it the worst and hardest kind to split and it didn’t even burn that well. 

PICTURE OF SPLIT WOOD

As we painted, he told me the story of his only pet, a wounded crow. Maybe the sounds of birds or the sight of a feather brought back the memory. 

PICTURE OF FEATHER (sound of birds)

Maybe he was about 10 years old at the time. The crow couldn’t walk so he splinted it and kept it safe, then one day he heard a shot. Saw his neighbor walk away, called his pet, “nuisance bird.”

BLACK FEATHERS ON THE GROUND

Dad’s mom, my grandmother, shushed him, he was not to tell his younger siblings who were in the house, told him to be quiet, not to complain, to keep it to himself. She reminded him the neighbor was a Mine Boss. His Dad’s Boss, hired and fired and paid the salary. He was the one who decided how much wood you deserved. He was the one who dropped the wood on the front yard, better than nothing, to heat the house and fuel the stove. My Dad was the oldest of five siblings, he held his tongue until he couldn’t, almost 7 decades later. I wondered if there were more stories. 

BLUE SKY

PICTURE OF PAINT, BRUSH, WOOD IN RAPID SEQUENCE

After the story of his pet crow, he looked at me. “Are you my supervisor? I don’t think I’m qualified for this job.”

Author bio:

Written essays for Advocacy for Children for the American Academy of Pediatrics and for presentation for the Bakken Oil Reserve public forums, newspapers. Small books for children about dinosaurs, food and friends. And a few poetry books. 

Project and manuscript specifics:

Project: I am giving myself one more year. Daily essays noting my progress and feelings and insights over time may be included. 

Manuscript: 365 pages, Appendices will include FOIA papers, letters to the same entities. 

Book cover:

Paste a photo/art/image you think would make a good cover for your book