‘Journeys Across Niagara’

When a faded picture from a by-gone era sets in motion a perilous quest…

…five young men not only encounter harrowing danger in the forbidden Niagara Gorge, but must confront the swirling illusions of the world they knew – changing their lives forever.

The day we decided to go down into the gorge of Niagara Falls—to walk on the ice bridge—had started out normal enough but quickly showed itself as anything but normal …

Living in the City of Niagara Falls in the early 1960s, winters were simple for teenagers – like snowball fights and warm-ups at “Ol’ Gordy’s” general store, and arguing over his “wall of pictures.” It’s a ritual—sipping Cokes while studying the old photographs … listening to Ol’ Gordy’s tales..and dreaming about the daredevils of old.

Then, on a frigid February morning, all that changed. An ice ball to Kevin’s face, and a funny looking picture, snatched from Ol’ Gordy’s wall, sets in motion a journey from which they will never recover. Despite Ol’ Gordy’s warnings (or perhaps because of them) that, not only is it extremely dangerous, but against the law, they secretly vow to venture forth and walk on – the ice-bridge of Niagara Falls.

The ice-bridge of Niagara Falls – an aberration of nature—steeped in history – fraught with tragedy – challenged through the ages, by daredevils, bootleggers and tourists alike – lures them from the world they know into the depths of the mysterious Niagara Gorge. As in a time machine, they enter an exhilarating bygone world of impassable rapids, massive frozen sculptors and unassailable walls of ice.

Coming face-to-face with the mighty Falls itself, from the bottom looking up, as it proclaims its dominion over them, they find themselves in a struggle of life and death with a Niagara they never knew existed.

Peeling back time, along the way we encounter others, who had made their own journeys across Niagara in eras gone by. We’re there when the ‘Hermit of Niagara’, living on top of the mighty Falls itself, finds his destiny in becoming one with the water. Years later, we stand in awe on the day Niagara stood still and explore a riverbed never before walked on by man – until the water returns – sealing the mystery of the flute.

We follow the journey of the feather, and witness slavery through the eyes of a runaway slave girl, as she rides the ‘Underground Railroad’ - seeking to find the bridge to freedom and paying the fare to ride that train.

We march to the beat of the drum and the chant of the the tom-tom, as nations clash and cultures collide when the journey of a British drummer boy converges with that of a young Iroquois brave at the brutal and bloody “Devil’s Hole” massacre.

‘Journeys across Niagara’ (previously titled: ‘Bridges -a Tale of Niagara’ and recipiant of the Readers Favorite 2011 Silver medal for General Fiction YA), is much more than a simple tale of camaraderie and adventure shared by young men. It a  tale that is rich in both historical fact and fiction, weaving a series of unique historical events, in a twist of mystery and revelation, with a group of 1962 teens, caught up in the complexities of a changing world around them. While each struggles with his own inner demons and angels – together they face the demons and angels of the Niagara Gorge.

It is my hope that you enjoy the journeys, and that you hear the crack of the ice, while feeling the tremor beneath your feet travel up your loins, knowing the mighty Niagara is reaching to claim you as well. ‘Journeys’ is a kaleidoscope of adventure and history, exploring the questions confronting people of all ages and from all times.

The earth is forever, and we’re just visitors—and only for a short time at that. By the time we begin to understand enough about the world to ask the right questions, our visit is over, and someone else is asking the same questions.

Until Next Time:

Embrace Life’s Bridges – For they Define Who You Are

DK Levick

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Research – the Writer’s Mantra

As the saying goes “the devil’s in the details”.

When, writers of historical fiction, put words to paper, they bear the responsibility to transpose their readers to the time period their story relates to. This doesn’t mean telling them it’s 1776 – it means transporting them to 1776, making them feel it, live it, and be a part of it – having them jump up and march along with the fyfe and drum.

If only done on the macro level, the characters are superficial and transparent. The reader doesn’t feel authenticity and sees through the ruse. To lift the characters off the pages and bring them into the minds and hearts of the reader, the writer must work on the micro level—down in the trenches – with the details. And, here he must tread carefully, for it can easily be overdone. Too many details are overpowering and will bog a story down quicker than a hippo wallowing in molasses. Inserting a few carefully selected details, in a natural way, so as not recognizable as being inserted, will unconsciously, allow the reader to live them.  This is where the writer’s art comes in to play, weaving the facts and substance of the era into the spirit and essence of the story, putting the reader into the story’s setting as witness to the action.

For every word of detail the writer puts to paper, a hundred words were researched, reviewed and revised. Each sentence represents hours of background investigation, study and learning about the times, people, environment and cultures of the era.

If a writer’s passion is the blood flowing through his veins – then research is the muscle that forms his flesh.

During the writing of ‘Journeys across Niagara’ (formerly ‘Bridges – a Tale of Niagara’),  I traveled down many roads of research. Not so much for the main story line of Kevin and his friends living in Niagara Falls during the ‘60s, (having lived that era myself – I was my own research), but for the historical stories embedded in the novel. Encompassing four actual events, covering over 200 years of history in the Niagara Region, and crossing lines of culture, nations and habitat, each story required separate journeys of research and investigation. The stories are separated by many decades, in a rapidly developing part of the New World, undergoing major political, societal and cultural change. The world of the English drummer boy and the Iroquois brave in 1763 was a different world from the world of slavery and abolition found in Lizzie’s story of 1859. Conversely, The Hermit of Niagara lived on top of Niagara Falls in 1831, while the only instance of Niagara Falls stopping was in 1848, a mere 17 years apart, yet significant changes had occurred in the Niagara Frontier, due to the advent of the Erie Canal and the introduction of the railroads along with a spreading population, radically affecting the culture of the people. (See “Was there a Hermit of Niagara?” post on the right hand side.)

Research is the mantra of the historical fiction writer. It is hard work and takes considerable time but it’s as crucial to success as the reentry heat shields are to the space shuttle. I often wonder how earlier writers researched their subjects and eras. (hmm, could be a story there in the making.)

“To where do we go?” the writers asked. They went to the libraries and to building personal acquisitions of books and writings. Yes, long, hard, tedious work, not to mention, costly but worth the effort and cost.

Today, all that’s changed, writers have the advantage of the internet. Call up any subject or key word and information is immediately at your fingertips. Images, words, histories, background, essays and opinions—lots of opinions. This is a huge advantage for the modern writer, but I also see a snare lying in wait for us. As wide and as deep as the internet is, it only coughs up what someone has put in it. And those things are repeated – over and over. The internet fools us into thinking we can click on any subject and then, magically and instantly, we are ‘well informed’ and ‘all knowing’ about that subject. It has the potential to ‘Wikipedia’ an entire population, on a global scale, with a ‘one-click’ mentality, regarding any particular subject.

That’s one scary thought! The same, singular knowledge and information is put out and repeated to all who punch in a keyword or subject and most inquiries stop at that level. Much of this information has already been filtered and is steeped in ‘opinions’, before we ‘surf’ through it, filtering and discarding along the way. We, too easily, fail to genuinely dive into the heart of the matter, as true research demands. With enough repetitions and enough people reading the same things without rebuttal and opposing views and insights, we begin forming a global community of keyboard punchers who think along the same lines. And we then put our faith in it – “I read it on the internet, so it must be true.”   There is a great risk of an unconscious ‘dumbing down’ of the entire world concerning any given subject of history – like-minded regurgitating with like-minded. Understandings about people and events can easily become condensed down to a singular ‘common’ or ‘general’ opinion, and we all know, there is nothing ‘common’ or ‘general’ concerning people. People are unique, diverse and always at emotional states with one another, whether loving or hating one another. And history is nothing more than a reflection of those people and those emotions. And make no mistake about it, we must fully understand and know all the details of history or the past will overtake the future.

Think for a second, what power true censorship would have over this medium. The world’s understanding of history would be revised and reshaped to conform to the political or social designs of those doing the censoring. This isn’t fantasy or paranoia talk, for we know all too well that such things have happened down through history by governments, religions and organizations burning, rewriting and revising history for their own purposes and agendas. It’s not inconceivable or preposterous to think it could happen with the internet and we mustn’t be complacent– for there are governments, around the globe, imposing censorship and monitoring the internet as I write.

True research goes beyond the internet and dives into the heart, fiber and cellular DNA of the matter. We, as writers, owe it to our readers and to those who went before us, to embrace research with both arms wide open, welcoming the joy of bringing history to life.

“To where do we go?” the writers ask. We go to the libraries and to building personal acquisitions of books and writings.  Yes, long, hard, tedious work, not to mention costly but worth the effort and cost.

Gee – I guess not all that much has changed after all.

Until Next Time:

 Embrace Life’s Bridges – For they Define Who You Are

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The Journey of ‘Journeys Across Niagara’

The year was 1976, America was relishing in its Bicentennial anniversary of independence, and I found myself in a musty antique shop, browsing among the discarded treasures of generations gone by. There, in a small offshoot room, hanging on a crowded wall, suspended amongst pictures, tapestries, murals, and rick-rack, I spied an old picture. It was a Stereoview, taken around 1890 by the famous George Barker. Stereoviews were the rage around the turn of the century, consisting of two almost similar views of the same thing, mounted side-by-side, in one frame. When fitted into a special, wooden viewer and held up to your eyes, it created a single picture with a stereo effect to it. The picture on the wall was of the ice bridge of Niagara Falls.

It fascinated me, both with the idea of the mighty Falls frozen completely over and hundreds of those old-time people walking around on it, and because it brought back memories of seeing a similar ice bridge myself when I was a kid, growing up in Western New York, in the ‘60’s.

Niagara Falls! The water—the roar—the mist—the smell—the power—the mystery. Niagara is a mystic enchantment that pulls people into its swirling mists and absorbs them into its magic. Niagara is a gift to man, declaring the glory of creation and thereby the surety of a Creator. Surrounded by history and steeped in lore of fascinating legends and people, it’s not only the Falls, but the rivers—the gorge—the mighty lakes, all splendid, magnificent and oozing with life. Take a walk through the Niagara Gorge (but please, not in the winter like my ‘boys’ did) and I guarantee you’ll come out a different person than when you went in. You’ll meet God in the Gorge (See post titled:  “Come Walk with Me”  at right.)

And then—the 60’s. It’s strange for me to think of the 60’s as nostalgia, but in fact they are. The 60’s were special years, creating a decade, unique and stand alone in our history.  In 1961, the world feared atomic war and we built backyard bomb shelters and we had ‘A’ bomb drills hiding under school desks, while spewing the illusion of being at peace with ourselves and the world. We felt ‘everything had been done and invented’ and there was nothing left for us to do. Meanwhile, the decade was on the verge of being the most dynamic, world-changing decade history had ever seen. Communications, civil rights, technology, economics, drugs, assassinations, space travel, society values and wars all around the globe, exploded literally overnight, turning America, and the world, upside down. The 60’s came in with the ‘Twist’ and bobby socks and left with us with VietNam and a man on the moon, leaving us in shock and yearning for those years when we wore bomber hats, drank hot chocolate and our only wars were snowball fights.

How much more inspiration would one need? A combination of a forbidden Niagara few people know about, coupled with the decade of the best and worse times in America. The ‘picture’ itself brought all this into focus for me, and I started writing.

I wanted to write about people who felt their life was unimportant, and didn’t know where they fit in. A decade when America was at its prime and at its worse, when young people thought everything had been done and there was nothing left for them to do, yet, aside from the Revolutionary War era itself, was the most revolutionary decade in American history.

Meanwhile, it’s no different from any other time, with people having the same needs, fears, joys and sorrows across the generations. All are ‘journeys’, traveling the same road, only in different times.

That was 1976 and I wrote 12 typewritten pages, put it aside and continued my own ‘journey’.

Fast forward 32 years and now it’s September 2008. I had just endured a personal loss and as a result was forced to sort out files of old papers. Buried among bill receipts, technical reports, letters and various doodlings, I came across 12 typewritten pages. They were yellowed, stained and crinkled when I held them. As I read them, I immediately grabbed a pen and began editing them. 350 pages later, ‘Bridges – a Tale of Niagara’ was conceived and a year later gave birth to ‘Journeys Across Niagara’.  I give this child to you, with my wish that you enjoy reading it as much as I have in writing it.

Until Next Time:

Embrace Life’s Bridges – For they Define Who You Are

—-Dk Levick

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Silver Metal Award !!

Hello Friends -

Buried among the hundred plus emails I received yesterday was one that brightened up the room, made this old wrinkled face break into a huge smile and , how do they say it it? – Made my day.

It was an email from Reader’s Favorites, the international book review organization and they were announcing the 2011 award winners.

It’s with a great deal of pleasure, happiness and humility that I can tell you that “Bridges – a Tale of Niagara” has won the Silver Metal for Young Adult General Fiction!

YOUNG ADULT GENERAL FICTION

To share this celebration with you, use this code “Bridgesone” and buy the book on Amazon at a reduced cost.

I want to thank everyone who has help to support ‘Bridges’ and especially all those who have written reviews on Amazon and Goodreads – they are greatly appreciated.

I’ve been working hard on a couple of projects. Will have a new short story “The Man in the Painting” coming out next week on Amazon and Smashwords and another is in the mill.

Mostly, I’ve been working on a new novel that I plan on releasing the first part of by November. Will be something different.

Until Next Time:

Embrace Life’s Bridges – For they Define Who You Are

dk Levick

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Noah’s ark – 2011

Hello everyone – welcome to the Thursday post of Writing in the Woods….

There’s been a lot of serious writing floating around the past few days. And for good reason too – with Borders closing and agents and publishers attacking John Locke’s book “How I sold a million books in Five Months” (sour grapes and fear is all that is, I’m waiting for his new book to come out “How I sold a million books about selling a million books”). Not to mention finding Rudolph Murdock in our breakfast cereal. Everyone seems to be in on edge a little. Isn’t it Great living in the information age? We’re in the midst of a writing revolution and the formula is changing – constantly. There are no sacred cows any longer.

But, let’s get off that for a bit and take a detour from all these weighty issues. Let’s lighten it up a little, if only for a few minutes.

Let’s go on a ‘mission from God’ – okay? Let’s build Noah’s Ark in 2011.

Follow me…

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Did you ever wonder why Noah built the ark?

You know the story, right?

God was a little upset with the folks down below and decided it was time for them to take a bath – a long permanent bath. But He didn’t want to throw away the baby with the bath water so he figured He’d start over and give it another go. So He found a good man hanging out down below and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

And that offer wasn’t as easy to accept as we might want to think. Keep in mind – there wasn’t any rain in those days. It’s true, it hadn’t been invented yet.

Read it for yourself in Genesis 2:5 & 6 “…for the Lord God had not sent rain on the earth….but a mist came up from the ground and watered the surface.”

Take a lot of mist to float that boat,  ya think?

Okay, no rain, so I guess that means floods hadn’t been invented yet neither. There were lakes and seas so they did take baths I suppose (I hope). But, it had to take a lot of faith for Noah to go ahead and build a giant boat on dry land because of rain and global flooding he’d never heard of before. But, when the Big Guy talks to you – what are you going to do?

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Freedom to me is…

This weeks blog post is in conjunction with the Blog-A-licious Blog Tour. I am pleased to be on the tour along with some very interesting and informative writers. At the bottom of this post will be a listing of the addresses of the other bloggers also discussing this weeks subject. I encourage you to visit them also.

Thank you for visiting my blog, I hope you enjoy it.

The topic for this week’s Blog-A-licious Blog Tour is:

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 “Freedom To Me Is…”

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I sit in the corner of the room and I open my eyes…

… The room is small, eight feet by ten – smaller maybe, not any bigger for sure. The floor is cold, hard and wet. The walls are stone and they too are cold, hard and wet. They seep a gooey mixture of condensation and slime that smells and oozes down the walls forming green puddles on the floor.

There are no windows in the room and so – there is no light, except for a narrow slit cut through the bolted, heavy wooden door, no larger than the width of an eyeball and just a few inches long. I don’t know why it’s there, it just is but it allows a small sliver of dirty light to invade the room. I never knew light could be dirty but this light is dirty having a dingy, yellow pale just bright enough for me to see the outline of my hand (although it looks nothing like my hand but more closely resembles a mangy paw from some poor creature that’s been run over in the street). When I hold it in front of what was once my face but is now an infested, matted hair covered orb, it is unrecognizable as anything once belonging to my body.

The room stinks a foul, pungent odor of stale urine, decay and blood. Things crawl in here.

How I miss the privilege of light.

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What was the ‘Ice Demon’?

I want to thank everyone who has or is reading ‘Bridges’. It thrills me to know you are enjoying the book and the stories within.

More than one reader has come back asking about the ‘Ice Demon’ the boys ‘encountered’ on their journey down into the Gorge. What was it?  Was it real?  Was it their imagination? What did it mean?

Who among us hasn’t had experiences they can’t explain? Seen something – sensed something – heard something – that wasn’t there?

Who hasn’t had the hair stand up on the back of their necks and a chill run down their spine when a sudden wind blew across their face?

Or felt goose bumps run up and down their arms? Or heard the shuffling of feet outside their door at night – when no one was there?

Or the tolling of a bell where there is no church?

How many times  have  we seen a shadow flicker across the corner of our eyes and upon jerking our heads around – we see nothing?

There are things that happen in life we can’t explain – and we accept them because if we don’t  - we go mad.

The boys seen something – that much I know.  There was something in the ice.

Was it only the sunlight reflecting through the giant ice pillar?   Maybe

Was it only the cold that fused their hands to the ice and kept pieces of their flesh?  Maybe

Was it their imagination, their adrenalin or their heightened sense of awareness that made them feel and sense things they otherwise wouldn’t have?  Maybe – these are plausible explanations, and like the things mentioned earlier, we find plausible explanations – to keep from going mad.

Or was there a living force dwelling inside the ice?  If so – was it a ‘demon’  or an angel?

I don’t know – I only recorded their story.

Like me – you now have their story too – what do you think it was?

I know this: Before they touched the ice, Kevin and Chuck were adversaries with a gulf of turbulent water between them and after they touched the ice,  a  ’bridge’ crossed that turbulent river changing their relationship from that time on.  Why?  What happened?  I don’t know – maybe you do.

25 years later – Kevin still didn’t know what they touched in the ice that day.

thks

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Come – Walk with Me

Come – walk with me… let’s step back in time together –  let’s roll the hands of the big clock back. No -no – not that little one on the wall. I mean the ‘big’ one – the ‘big clock of life‘. You know, the one that’s measured in years and centuries. Let’s roll it back, ohhhh, shall we say – 10,000 years or so. Back to a time when the only technology was the layers of time etched in a rock or the rings of life buried in a tree.  Back to a time when there is no combustion engine – no Twitter –  no electricity – no war (?), well no people as we know them, anyway.

Back to a time when God walked the planet.

 

Let’s walk His Creation…and maybe He’ll walk with us…

… along the shores of the steep canyon, where the impatient River races to join with the ‘Big Water’ up North, cutting a wide trench through the land, slicing a deep scar across the face of the earth.

It hasn’t been given a name yet – but walk with me along the shore of what we know will one day… be called “Niagara”.

We travel down the side of the canyon, carefully watching the placement of our feet and clinging tightly to our life, gripping the growth of the steep wall to secure our journey downward.

Down… down... down the sides of the great trench.

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City of Dreams

City of Dreams

Author: William Martin

I thoroughly enjoyed this book, from both the aspect of storytelling and writing style.

Martin’ s taken a page of American history many of us know about (the American Revolution), focusing on a tiny slice of it most of us know nothing about. When one thinks of the fascinating history of the American Revolution, and all the tragic and triumphant colorful events surrounding it, the last thing that comes to mind is the use of war bonds to provision George Washington’s army. In a setting alive with the details and minutia of early America, he brings events out of the history books into the real world with the development of characters who think, breathe and act like people we can identify with. We follow the ancient mystery of the paper notes through 200 years of evolving society while also unraveling the modern mystery Peter Fallon is confronted with in the midst of a global financial crisis. His research and background material about the City of New York, its design, layout and evolution gives the book great credibility coupled with insight and a sense of discovery. His characters bring a dead subject alive with details. Especially enjoyable was the manner in which he tied the story together from the Revolutionary era into the present day.

Very well done. I give it 5 stars and highly recommend it.

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The Cathedral in the Woods

He liked being alone in the woods long before the sun’s first light broke upon the trees, piercing a darkness so thick you could feel it peel away from your skin as you stealthily moved through the cold night air. It was a comfort the old man yearned for in a world turned upside down for him.

In those pre-dawn hours, alone in the forest, the night cold and close around him, the world was a different place and time – a special place and time – his place and time. A place and time found nowhere else on earth. Where the ‘day’ creatures were slowly waking up, preparing to forage and the ‘night’ creatures were silently slipping through the darkness, to beat the approaching light, scurrying to the safety of their “homes”. It’s the quiet time in nature’s clock, when the mind and soul can find that single thread of unity that enables understanding – and healing.

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