Nove Meyers

ALGONQUIN ANSWERS file:///C:/Users/misterm/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image001.jpg FIRST ASSIGNMENT: Ruby Parker loved her daddy, almost more than anything. Almost as much as she hated his brother, her uncle Frank. She must find a way to save the family ranch and her daddy’s elephant from Frank. But there’s a war on and revenge must wait, as she must first help her country win that war as a welder and bring her soldier fiancé back to her. When Ruby falls from a ladder, a co-worker saves her life and befriends her. As she recovers her memory, she realizes that William used to work for her daddy on his circus. After her father’s death Uncle Frank attempted to murder William, who now joins Ruby on her vengeance quest. SECOND ASSIGNMENT: Frank Parker always played second fiddle to his older brother. Unlike Gene, Frank lives only for himself and the pleasures he can grab from life, by force if necessary. He prefers girls to grown women and often just takes what he wants; even raping his own young niece as his brother lies dying. He hates both his brother’s elephant and the young black man his brother had as much as adopted. But then, his brother dies, freeing Frank from any last restraints of decency. He steals the family’s ranch and his brother’s substantial insurance proceeds. He tries poisoning the elephant and attempts to murder the black man, maiming him for life. Within a few years after his brother’s death, as the rest of America fights Naziism, he becomes a rich and powerful man in the small Texas Hill Country community he terrorizes. Frank epitomizes both the racism and sexism of the Jim Crow South, but also, in a more veiled manner, that of the entire country – at the time – and even until today. It is these larger antagonistic forces against which Ruby and William struggle throughout the novel. THIRD ASSIGNMENT: The O’Dell Cup is my working title. It’s simple, and perhaps a bit plain, but, hopefully more than a little mysterious. While this may not prove to be the final title of my novel, I’m using it now because it refers to an actual tin cup in my family lore and is the original inspiration for my story. The cup appears in the novel’s opening scene and, later, its revelation to the protagonist becomes a turning point in the plot. It also serves as a symbol of the racism that permeated the Jim Crow South, even by those who thought themselves immune from it. Other Options: Ruby the Riveter Forgetting and Remembering FOURTH ASSIGNMENT: Water for Elephants - Sarah Gruen Who doesn’t love a circus? Not just the glitz, the danger, and the exotica, but also the intrigue and the backstories behind the tent walls. Stories about circuses offer a glimpse into a lifestyle that few have, or really want, to taste. While we may not really want to run away to join the circus it can certainly hold nearly all of us in its spell long enough for a good read. My female protagonist is based, in no small part, on my own circus family. In fact, when I first read “Water for Elephants” I thought, “How did Sarah Gruen know my family story?” – there were so many fictional accounts in her work that closely paralleled true stories from my own family background. In The O’Dell Cup Ruby relives much of her own circus experiences as she regains the memories she lost when she fell in the Liberty ship she was helping to build. Sprinkled throughout the novel, these memories and other disclosures recapture for the reader the picture of a small family circus (a “mud show”) characteristic of such enterprises in the “Jim Crow” rural South. Where the Crawdad’s Sing – Delia Owens The tie-in to this story is the strength of the female protagonist who overcomes obstacle after obstacle as the story progresses. While my novel has a different time and setting, I think it will attract the type of readers who revel in the struggles and eventual victory of a strong female protagonist. And in both stories the young white female is befriended by and receives invaluable assistance from an older black male. FIFTH ASSIGNMENT: In recovering her memory after a fall in a WWII ship she worked on, a circus girl discovers that the co-worker who saved her life is the same man who used to work for her daddy’s circus. After realizing that the girl’s uncle has seriously injured both of them, the protagonists vow revenge, but only after the war has ended. SIXTH ASSIGNMENT: In the novel’s inciting incident, the female protagonist temporarily loses her memory in an accident. Backstory reveals that she was orphaned as a teenager. As she recovers her memory, she learns that her fiancé soldier had been killed on the same day she was injured. Not enough? Finally, she remembers that her uncle repeatedly raped her when she was a child. Although she suffers through these repeated tragedies, none can defeat Ruby. Victimhood is not in her circus DNA. Like the “energizer bunny” she manages to bounce back from all that life can throw at her. Here is one sample: In the novel’s inciting incident, the female protagonist temporarily loses her memory in an accident. Backstory reveals that she was orphaned as a teenager. As she recovers her memory, she learns that her fiancé soldier had been killed on the same day she was injured. Not enough? Finally, she remembers that her uncle repeatedly raped her when she was a child. Although she suffers through these repeated tragedies, none can defeat Ruby. Victimhood is not in her circus DNA. Like the “energizer bunny” she manages to bounce back from all that life can throw at her. Here is one sample: Ruby was quiet for a few moments. Then she asked, “William, may I…would you mind…if… I touched your scar?” William’s silent expression indicated that it would be okay. Ruby reached up to his forehead where the purple line began. Slowly and gently, she traced it down his face, past the void where his eye had been, down toward his chin. As her hand reached his lips her fingers began to tremble, and then shake uncontrollably. The scar reminded her of a snake and her worst memory, the most hidden one, the one that had never been remembered, rushed into the depths of her soul. The worst memory, the one nobody should have to remember. “I’m standing above a hole in the ground, like where we buried my daddy. I look down and see… Me. I’m covered with snakes; dozens of rattlers crawling all over my body; hissing; flicking their tongues at me; tasting my body with their tongues – my fingers, my eyes, my lips, my hips, my breasts, my private place. Then the biggest snake, the evilest one, crawls inside me, staying inside, hurting me. I scream but no sound comes out. No one can hear, not even my own mind. I close my eyes, clinch my fists, but it’s still there, staying, hurting, taking part of me. Finally, the snake crawls away. I look down again and the hole is empty. The snakes are gone. I’m gone. Uncle Frankie is standing beside me. ‘This is a secret Ruby, our secret. Don’t ever tell nobody. Never. If you do, something very bad will happen.’ He squats down and looks me right in my eyes. ‘It might happen to your little pony Poky, or to that n****r boy you seem to like so much, or even to your beloved Daddy.’ “These last words were spoken with a sneer so evil and dark it seemed to blacken the sky. But the snake didn’t stay away. It came back, whenever it wanted. And it went inside me again and hurt me again. And I lived in fear of that snake. Until Daddy died. And we buried him in the rain. And his casket floated up the next day. And we had to bury him again. And I got to go away to San Antonio. It was Daddy’s dying that saved me from the snake.” As Ruby jerked her fingers away from his face William saw the look of horror on hers. “Oh, Miss Ruby, I’m so sorry. I never should have let you touch my scar. It’s bad, really bad. I know how I look.” Time seemed to have nowhere to go. It just hung there between the two of them. Unmoving. Eventually Ruby, her gaze fixed somewhere else, a faraway place to which William could never go, said, “It’s not you William. You are a beautiful man, inside and out. I just remembered the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” And then she told William what she had remembered. After Ruby had finished telling William why she had jerked her hand from his face, the two friends sat in silence for a long while. William kept expecting Ruby to start crying and had no clue as to how to comfort her. But she didn’t fall apart; just the opposite. She was growing stronger. “William?” “Yes?” “We have to make this right, you and me. We have to get even with Frankie for all he’s done. He hurt us both, real bad. file:///C:/Users/misterm/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image001.jpg Next, likewise sketch a hypothetical scenario for the "secondary conflict" involving the social environment. Will this involve family? Friends? Associates? What is the nature of it? Ruby is from the South – Texas - before the Civil Rights era; need I say more? Ruby’s life is saved by a black co-worker who then befriends her as she convalesces. As she gradually recovers bits of her memory, the black man realizes that she is the daughter of a circus owner he worked for a decade earlier back in Texas. And when he hands her the old tin cup he used to drink from, she recognizes him as the man who nursed her daddy in his final illness. They become friends and Ruby considers herself free of the prejudice that permeated the landscape of her childhood. It isn’t until she and William sit together at the staged trial of fifty black sailors that she realizes how deep her own unacknowledged prejudice runs. And William, sitting beside her realizes how he has always accepted his lot in life because “that’s just the way things are.” Sitting next to her friend William, looking across at the fifty black faces on trial for their lives, some merely teenagers, Ruby found herself on trial as well, perhaps more so. She remembered her thoughts when she had read in the Oakland Tribune the day after the explosion that the “Death toll may reach 650." She was horrified. The war had come home, right in her backyard. Other than Pearl Harbor, the Port Chicago disaster would be the worst loss of life on American soil during the war. Then, when the article went on to note that most of the victims had been Negro sailors, she had felt a sense of relief. It could have been worse. They could have been…. Even Ruby’s mind couldn’t finish that sentence. She wanted to wretch as the enormity of her thought sunk in. Her insides started to tear at her as if she had a tiger in her gut trying to rip something evil out of her, something she hadn’t been aware existed. She started to cry, first inside, and then in quiet sniffles as tears dripped down her cheek. FINAL ASSIGNMENT: Is there a more iconic structure in the western United States than San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge? Its mere mention, or a glimpse of its image conjures up memories and feelings within anyone who has ever seen it or heard of it in literature, song, or film. The novel opens, and closes, on the bridge. It is the first landmark Ruby sees when she arrives in California from Texas. And it continues to recur throughout the novel, even serving as an accidental inciting incident for what will become her career. Ruby couldn’t wait to start photographing the bridge for real. Each photo would tell the story differently; the bridge itself in different moods – early morning through the shroud of fog, late afternoons of golden sunsets, and the evening as the lights of the City began twinkling on. And her pictures would tell the story of the people of the bridge: those who designed and built it; former circus performers who itched to meet its challenges; and those for whom it promised an escape from an unlivable life. And all of its more mundane denizens; tourists, commuters, pedestrians. Across the bay sits Richmond, nondescript if it weren’t the location of one of the largest military industrial complexes of World War II. This is where the two protagonists meet, as welders on Liberty ships. Richmond California sticks out into both San Pablo and San Francisco Bays like a hitchhiker’s thumb. The setting would have been beautiful if the Whites had left it the way the Ohlone’s had it when they came. But, unless your taste in vacations ran to oil refineries, assembly plants, or heavy industry, this other “city by the bay” had little to recommend it by the mid-1940’s. …In less than two years, Richmond’s population had mushroomed from fewer than twenty thousand to well over a hundred thousand souls. By mid-’44 Richmond was a twenty-four seven, three-sixty-five, situation….All four shipyards ran triple shifts. Bus exhaust choked the air, and Susan had to keep her car wheels steered clear of the trolley tracks. Horns blasted. People were walking everywhere, both with and against the lights, as though they’d all been to pedestrian school in New York City. And the beautiful green hills of Berkely, rising above, geologically and economically, the more pedestrian East Bay communities of Albany, El Cerrito, Oakland, and the aforementioned Richmond. The imported Eucalyptus trees of Tilden Park tower over Casa Serena, where Ruby recovers from her injuries. And where her discovery of a carousel triggers the return of her memory. By the first of May, Ruby had been moved to a small facility up in the Berkeley Hills, at the edge of Tilden Park. It was no accident that the recovery center was located where it was. The setting itself was almost enough to cure anything. The brown California hills turn a brilliant green in the Springtime. Native Coastal shrub covered the ground and imported Eucalyptus trees towered above, blanketing everything with their unmistakable aroma, like the fog over the bay. It was believed that the scent emitted by the Eucalyptus oils increased brainwave activity and countered physical and mental fatigue. And, if one listened closely, she might hear the spirits of the ancient Ohlone’s who inhabited the land before the whites arrived. For perhaps thousands of years prior to the Spaniards conquest, these native peoples had made their homes in this beautiful landscape where God probably took his vacation. If one knew how to look and feel for it; how to open one’s pores to the healing ministrations of the ghosts of those ancient medicine men, she could feel a cleansing, a fullness, and a calm that even the strongest drugs couldn’t duplicate. And Treasure Island, not the fictional setting for Robert Louis Stevenson, but an artificial island anchoring the two spans of the Bay Bridge. It is where the US Navy wrongly tried and convicted fifty black sailors of mutiny following the Port Chicago ammo depot explosion in 1944. The novel’s protagonists are present at both the mutiny trial as well as the aftermath of the explosion itself. It didn’t take Ruby but about 10 minutes to realize the trial was a sham. The room was salt and pepper, black and white. The salt was sitting at the front table; older white men in their starched white uniforms, their medals threatening to topple them over. And the two younger white men arguing the fate of the pepper; fifty Black men sitting in uncomfortable chairs along the back wall. One significant scene is set in the “Last Chance Saloon” a hole-in-the-wall drinking establishment on Oakland’s waterfront frequented by the writer Jack London around the turn of the twentieth century. The saloon had survived the ‘06 earthquake but it hadn’t escaped unscathed. When they bent their heads, at least Gordon did, to step down to enter, he directed Ruby to sit with him on stools at the far end of the bar as the half dozen tables were already filled. The first thing Ruby noticed was that the bar, the original from when Jack London sat there, slanted from one end of the small building down to where they were sitting, dropping close to a foot. “This is what happened during the earthquake,” Gordon explained. The bar tilted and they never fixed it. I always sit at this end, to keep my drink from sliding down to another patron. It’s sort of the thing here. Newcomers often wind up finding someone ‘down bar’ finishing their first drink. Most of them learn after that.” As the novel reaches its conclusion the scene shifts to a small town in Texas’ Hill Country, an hour’s drive from San Antonio. It has become the undisputed domain of the novel’s antagonist, a man who epitomizes both racism and sexism. He controls the town and its citizens including the judge presiding over a trial in a musty courtroom with a foregone conclusion. The courthouse in Riverbend sat on a little knoll in the middle of town. With its three stories and belltower it was the tallest building in the community, and you could see its cupola from anywhere in the city limits. The first floor, called the dungeon by some, contained jail cells and the sheriff’s and coroner’s offices. The two identical courtrooms were housed on the second floor, accessible up fifteen marble steps through the main entrance. The courtrooms sat on opposite sides of the hall towards the back of the building, past the county clerk and assessor’s offices. Each had a double oak door carved with a blindfolded lady justice holding her scales in balance. The majestic doors belied the simplicity of the courtroom itself. The judge’s bench sat on a raised dais, offset a bit to the left to fit in the jury box on the right side. Opposing counsel each had a small desk facing the judge at floor level and there were four pew-like benches on each side of the room capable of holding six or seven spectators. The rooms gave off a faint musty smell due to the paucity of windows and there was an ominous, almost frightening, feeling about the space. As if the ghosts of criminals, themselves victims of some of the “hanging judges” of the previous century, were hanging around to see who else might share their fate.

RESPONSE TO PRE-ASSIGNMENTS PART III Below are the opening pages of my novel. Since it contains no dialog, I have added another section from later in the novel. 1985 The heavy fog, late in leaving that morning, nearly obscured the shadowy figure making its way towards the center of the Golden Gate Bridge. Although she passed just a few feet from the Sunday traffic, the small woman went unnoticed by the drivers streaming towards Marin County. Clad in a fashionable running suit and sensible shoes, she strode briskly along the pedestrian walkway. Her petite frame, firm gait, and bright red hair belied her nearly seventy years. After she’d passed the south tower, she paused and turned eastward towards Oakland first, then Berkeley, Albany, and, finally, Richmond. Slowly, she removed her shoes and set her backpack on the steel grating. Then she took a small object from her pack: a tin cup, tarnished from age and use. Standing at the guardrail, the woman lifted the old cup to her face and tenderly kissed it. Holding it above her head with both hands, like a priest lifting the chalice for a blessing, she let the winds carry the man’s spirit higher and higher above the bridge in a swirl of ash. The gulls swarmed, imitating the angels. Then, she leaned over the rail, offering the empty cup to the waves, 220 feet below. Four Seconds… The time it takes a human jumper to reach the roiling waters of San Francisco Bay. Four Seconds… The time it took that little cup to slip beneath the waves. Four Seconds… More than enough time to travel back four decades. 1944 Most mornings, as Ruby Parker stepped off the bus to begin her shift at Richmond Yard No. 2, she could just see the tip of the Golden Gate Bridge emerging from a fog-shrouded San Francisco Bay; and some days, she believed she could hear its ghosts: the souls of those desperate jumpers seeking an end to an unlivable life, and the spirits of those thousands more who sailed beneath that span to a war from which they never returned. From the outside, Ruby looked like any of the other young women who got off the bus along with her: denim coveralls, sturdy work shirt, a bandana hiding her bright red hair, lunch pail clutched in her left hand. From the outside, she looked like any of the thousands who worked for Henry J. Kaiser building ships to help the Allies win the war. She looked like she could have come off an assembly line similar to the ships she helped build. But on the inside, it was a different story. Ruby was a circus girl. If you asked, she would tell you about riding the elephant on her daddy’s circus when she was only four. And of swinging between trapeze rings a few years later. And she might tell you about her wonderful life on her family’s ranch in the wintertime. And perhaps she’d even tell you about the death of the circus, and of her daddy, during the Great Depression a few years before. And why she’d left the Texas Hill Country for the Bay Area. But she wouldn’t tell you that other thing, the one buried down so deep inside that she didn’t even know about it herself. When Ruby had started working at the shipyard, she had been a young woman with a past. And a future. And she was just about to lose both. *** “William, can you tell me what happened? Why did I leave the ranch? I want to know about my daddy and mama.” “I can, much as I know, but it’s sad. Miss Susan said not to tell you until you asked. She said that’s how we’d know you were ready to hear it. And she said that after I started to tell you about it, you’d likely start rememberin’ it yourself, bad as it might be.” “I understand. I think I’m ready.” “Ole Boss, he just got worse and worse. Spent his whole day, coughin’ up that blood. Doctor come out a couple of times. Said there wadn’t nothin’ he could do. Just keep him comf’tible as possible. It was a cold November day when he went. Day even the devil didn’t want to be outside.” “And it was raining, wasn’t it?” Ruby asked. “It was. You startin’ to remember?” “I found him, didn’t I? I found my daddy, and I screamed for you. And I was holding him when you got there. And I didn’t care if I caught his TB or not. Maybe I even wanted to. It didn’t seem like life made any sense anymore. What happened then?” “It was too muddy for the undertaker to bring out his hearse, so we bathed and wrapped him ourselves, and I made a coffin for him. The next day Richard and I dug the grave, right next to his little cabin. We did get a preacher to come out and say some prayers, and then we put him in the ground.” “And then?” “You sure you want to hear this?” “I can handle it. Don’t leave anything out.” “Well, like you said it was rainin’ like there was no tomorrow and, soon as we buried your daddy, we all hurried inside to dry out. Your mama was holed up in the back of the house, ever since she heard he was dead. She never even come out to see him. And the funniest thing; as soon as we had covered him up that elephant of his, Lucy, started bellowin’ loud, and cryin’ like, like she knew or somethin’. And it went on for hours. By the time it was dark, the rain had gotten lots worse; seemed like it was comin’ in sideways. Soon as he could, the preacher had left so it was just you and me, and Richard, and Sylvia, and your mama. It was the first night I stayed in the house. I just did and nobody said nuthin’ about it. We all just sat there, eatin’ milk and cornbread, listenin’ to the rain, and that elephant cryin’. I fell asleep in that chair your daddy used to rock in ‘fore he took sick. It was you woke me up the next morning, askin’ me to take you down to your daddy’s grave. You said we had forgotten to put flowers on it. When we got there….” “Stop,” screamed Ruby. “I know. The rain had been so bad that it had washed him out of his grave. The hole was full of water and the coffin was just bobbing at the top like a raft. And we had to dig another hole, higher up. And we tied ropes around the coffin and had Lucy drag it up the hill. And you said a prayer, I remember, before we covered him up a second time.”