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Imaginary Friends

Have you ever traced down your writing roots? Personally, I find it fascinating to journey back in time to discover the roots of my passion for writing. I can point out several lines of demarcation along the way, but the one that most intrigues me is how I had imaginary friends at a very young age.

My two imaginary friends came to play with me because my older sister had gone off to first grade and left me behind. When she walked out the door of our grandma’s farmhouse where we lived, to walk up the hill to the one-room schoolhouse, my two new friends, Mody and Pody (long O sound) came in.

Rocky Relationship

My older sister and I experienced an ongoing rocky relationship as adults. Because of her often caustic and toxic personality traits, I found my existence more calm and healthy when I remained far from her presence. This meant we spent very little time together. (She passed away ten years ago.)

However – and this leads to my point – during one of the more quiet times in our relationship (she was at the time a grandmother which gives an idea of our ages), right out of the blue she asked me if I remembered my two imaginary friends.

I was more than a little stunned. It was enough that Mody and Pody were tucked snugly away in my own private memory bank, but to then realize that I had talked about them to my two-year-older sister – and that she also remembered – provided for yet another writing roots signpost.

I assured her that I did indeed remember my imaginary friends. Then she asked if I remembered their names. Again I said that I did remember their names. Then we both in unison said: “Mody and Pody.” And we laughed.

My sister began first grade at the age of five, turning six in October. That means I would have been less than three-years-old when I created my first set of fictional characters. Now that intrigues me.

My sister’s recollection and her reiteration of the fact, brought the memory back to me all fresh and new, and served to confirm my writing roots to me.

God Directs Our Steps

I’m a firm believer that God directs our steps and that He designs us for a purpose. I’m ever so thankful that I found my purpose early on. I’m thankful that every day I get to do what I love. And that is write! It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. It’s in my DNA. It’s my roots.

A special thanks to Mody and Pody who stand as proof to substantiate the fact! smile!

Be A Novelist

Photo Credit: http://www.kansasheritage.org/

Greenwood – Black Wall Street of America

In my last Tulsa Series blog post, I explained that because of black gold – oil – Tulsa became known as the Magic City. Later to be known as The Oil Capital of the World. Promotion and civic pride abounded. However, there was one little problem. That was the thriving black community to the north known as Greenwood – named after the main street located there. For many, the presence of so many successful black businesses was a thorn in their side.

A black businessman by the name of J.B. Stradford, came to the area in 1899. It was his dream for blacks to pool their resources and work together to support one another’s businesses. To this end, he purchased large tracts of land just north of Tulsa. From there he subdivided and sold only to other black business men and women.

Later he built the Stradford Hotel on Greenwood Avenue, which was the largest black-owned hotel in the nation.

This is why Greenwood was made up of entrepreneurs, owning their own businesses – laundry, hair salon, taxi service, grocery store, barber shop, dry goods, movie theater – you name it, the community offered it. A dollar bill could be circulated in Greenwood many times before ever leaving. The area covered over 40 square blocks. The neighborhoods were similar to any neighborhood of that era with stylish wood-frame homes, sidewalks, and manicured lawns.

Few of the citizens of Greenwood had any need to go into downtown Tulsa except to go to work. Many were employed by the wealthy oil barons living there, all of whom needed domestic help. (I stated previously that in 1921 the city of Tulsa boasted over 50 millionaires.)

Now you can understand why the black community of Greenwood was known as the Black Wall Street of America. It stood as a sterling example of American ingenuity, enterprise, and resourcefulness.

In the spring of 1921, all of the peace and prosperity that Greenwood had enjoyed for decades was about to come to a horrific end.

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The first title in the Tulsa series, Tulsa Tempest, takes place in Tulsa against the backdrop of the Tulsa Race Riot. This title is slated to be available for e-readers June, 2012. If you would like to be updated on the exact release date (and the re-releases of other Norma Jean Lutz classics) click HERE.

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My Writing Roots

Greenwood – Black Wall Street of America

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