A Winter Window

Although this little horse is a gift from New Mexico, he will always remind me of Cape Cod snowstorms, good friends and expectations.

In January 2013, after winning an international Irish poetry contest the previous year (the only American to enter) my friend Jacqueline Loring was on a New England poetry reading tour with Preston Hood and other friends. She was using my house as a home base because, after decades living and working on Cape Cod, she had recently packed up her house, computer, screenplays and other literary work, and moved with husband Gary to Albuquerque, NM.


No more boiled lobster and clam chowder for dinner, or moon tides and eel grass at the beach, or tall ships, tugboats, and tankers sailing through the Cape Cod Canal. As if someone waved a magic wand over her life, she, Gary, and daughters Revah and Kendra purchased a ranch, horses, saddles and bridles, were co-parenting a black newborn foal named Acheron and getting licensed to operate a therapeutic riding program called Enchanted Equine Adventures for military veterans and people with MS. Just like that.

But while she stayed with me a massive snow storm hit, no power, no heat, no stove for four days, house temp down to 37 degrees. We burned all my fireplace wood, most of the candles, and trudged across the street to Carol and Mickey McManus' house for brewed coffee, cooked food, and a warm room in which to have a glass of wine before returning to my polar cave.  As I recall, Jackie wore her Birkenstocks throughout the ordeal, but I could be wrong. Eventually, the power came back and roads were cleared. We loaded the car with plants I’d been minding for her, and she and Kendra set off for New Mexico, dodging winter storms all along the way. Gary was at the end of the driveway waiting when they finally got home.   

It’s a year later.  In early January 2014 the Cape is clobbered with another snowstorm, 12" of snow with 50 mph winds and sub-freezing temperatures. Anticipating a power outage as usual, I brought in wood, put salt and shovels by the front door, cooked a chicken, got out candles, and checked on the hospitality of Carol and Mickey who have a gas stove.  As I’m putting wind stoppers on window sills and doorways, I spot Jackie’s hostess gift last year, a little painted horse popular in New Mexico. I think to myself: look at that attitude, head high, striking out for whatever’s ahead, not unlike the gift-giver herself, prancing off to some new adventure.

I move the little horse from a low table over to a snow-encrusted window ledge in my kitchen, a reminder that I too set off expectantly into this new year, in search of whatever new experiences and good fortune await me on the pathway of my life. The little horse will also reminds me that  snow melts, but true friendship always remains. 

The Process of Discovery

At "A Book in Hand" author's forum in Dennis, Massachusetts, I spoke last month to a group of writers about the process of discovery throughout four and a half years of working on Nature's Ambassador. Here are a few points I covered:

Readers may not realize the enormous amount of revelation that takes place during the writing process. Even we writers can be taken aback by the discovery of new information that our original plan must unexpectedly accommodate. Not long ago I listened to novelist Dennis Lehane (Mystic River; Gone, Baby, Gone) humorously describe his surprise, irritation, resistance, and finally acceptance of the discovery that a minor character in one of his blockbuster novels simply refused to be eliminated. The author had to yield to his own fictitious character!

I had notebooks full of information about my subject when I started work on Nature's Ambassador. However, if the final published version were limited to what I knew then about Thornton Burgess' life and career, it would have been one-third of its eventual size. I was more than a year into my work before I had to accept the fact that I was not writing the tabletop book my publisher and I had envisioned, but a legitimate biography. As I told the publisher, I had not deviated structurally from the four-part outline of my book proposal, but, of necessity, my depth and range of detail had evolved. I had serious concerns. What if I pursued essential leads, but got seriously off track? Then again, what if I held to my plan, but ignored the massive momentum of my research? In the end, I resigned my self to letting the story lead me, as Lehane had done. 

What revelations occurred in my writing process? I knew Burgess had a popular radio program in the 1920s and 30s, but I didn't know it may have been the first children's nature program on radio. I knew the children's author was an ardent conservationist, but was unaware of the extraordinary extent of his effort. He conceived of and implemented through the popular People's Home Journal a private land conservation program that posted five million acres for bird sanctuaries. I found letters that heartily congratulated Thornton Burgess for his assistance in passage of the 1918 Migratory Bird Treaty Act. I learned he was honored by the prestigious New York Zoological Society for influencing the environmental values of "millions of children." I remember thinking, "What's that figure again - millions? In 1919?" That was less than a decade into his career as a children's author. He wrote for forty-six more years. 

Photo: Dr. William T. Hornaday, director of New York Zoological

Society, credited Thornton Burgess with influencing the environmental values

of "millions of children." Courtesy of Greg Dehler.   

I was startled to learn the children's author had attended the 1931 Matamek Conference on Biological Cycles in Labrador, a meeting that assembled leading scientists from Europe and North America to consider the same environmental issues we study today. (Thornton Burgess, by the way, was equally startled to learn that these eminent scientists were quite familiar with and approved of his nature-based books and newspaper columns; his chagrined account of their insistence that he tell them a story is hilarious.)

Discovering Burgess' friendship and collaboration with distinguished Smithsonian curator Austin Clark added terrific detail. But when I was provided copies of their animated, near-daily correspondence through the generous assistance of Smithsonian researcher Marcel LaFollette, author of Science on the Air, and curator Dr. David Pawson and his wife Doris at the National Museum of Natural History, it required a marvelous new chapter: "Austin Clark and the Radio Nature League."

I knew Burgess had written dozens of books. (In Nature's Ambassador I clear up the confusion between 70 or 170 total books.) But I was astounded to discover those books had sold possibly eleven million copies by the mid-1960s. Booksellers have verified that this was an impressive sales figure at that time. I would learn he had multiple publishers, his last book came out the year he was 91, and that more than half of Burgess' books are still  in print, which booksellers say is also remarkable for early 20th century books. 

New research changed not just the shape and size, but the very purpose of my book. It solidified my growing conviction that an important children's author and conservationist had been significantly overlooked in the history of two fields. Without new discoveries, the last sentence in my introduction could not have been written!

So, I've come to expect and welcome discovery in the writing process, and wonder if all writers find this true?

A Writer's Firsts!

Every writer has dreams. A few dreams of mine have become reality in recent months. Let me share with you writing "firsts" that have come about since the publication of Nature's Ambassador, my biography of Thornton W. Burgess.

FIRST: Book sighting in a store

In the four and a half years I worked on Nature's Ambassaror, I always knew what would signify that the project was really finished: seeing my books in Titcomb's Bookshop. 

Titcomb's is a beloved family-owned bookstore in East Sandwich on Cape Cod. It has a wonderful, warm, welcoming atmosphere, complete with shelves stacked with books you're suddenly dying to read and toys you realize are perfect for any child you know. The staff is marvelously friendly, enthusiastic, and helpful; the fact that they wrap presents is alone reason to come here. Needless to say, I was delighted when owner Vicky Titcomb Uminewicz said she would love to host the official launch of Nature's Ambassador. 

A few days before the launch, I was driving past Titcomb’s on an errand when I spotted a large white sign near the road. It read “Christie Lowrance, Burgess Book Signing, Sunday 2-4.” I decided to stop in the bookstore on the return trip to thank the staff (and admire the sign!). As I walked up the stone path to the bookstore, I realized that the upper panes of its broad display window were ALL filled with copies of my book. Beaming, I opened the door and stepped inside. On a table near the front door nestled between Nancy Rubin Stuart’s outstanding Revolutionary War-era Defiant Brides and Susan Branch’s beautifully illustrated new book, A Fine Romance was a stack of my books. Oh my. What a gorgeous sight. So colorful! So celebratory! So …legitimate. 

The smile on my face lasted halfway home, but the smile in my writer’s heart lasted for weeks. 

FIRST: Book launch

A few days later the launch for Nature's Ambassador was held at Titcomb's Bookshop on a glorious blue-sky, late summer Cape Cod afternoon. With Nancy Titcomb and her husband Ralph, who had opened the bookstore decades ago, I greeted arrivals beneath a small canopy outside the front of the store. Later we would consume root beer floats, Thornton Burgess' favorite drink, and a huge sheet cake iced on top with a bold colored replication of the Harrison Cady illustration on the front cover of Nature's Ambassador.

Elizabeth Merritt, generally considered Titcomb's literary authority, invited everyone to go upstairs for my talk, and guests found a seat among the bookshelves in the upper level of the bookstore. I looked out at friends and neighbors seated smiling and expectant before me. My son Rob was grinning broadly, his wife Kimberly was snapping pictures, and their two children waved at Nana. As I waited for Elizabeth to introduce me, I realized I was relaxed, extremely happy, and completely ready for this moment.

The day held so many unique pleasures! How many people have the opportunity to dedicate a work to those they cherish? I am blessed with four grandchildren, "the ones Thornton Burgess wrote for." When I started this book, K was 3, R was 2, and G and J weren't yet born. K now stands up to my shoulders, R somewhat below him, J speaks French, and G can sing six verses of "Down by the Bay." To call two dear grandchildren forward, give them a Nana squeeze, and introduce them to those gathered at the launch was a golden moment in my life.  

It felt wonderful to present a copy of Nature's Ambassador to Nancy Titcomb, founder of the Thornton W. Burgess Society, who has believed so fervently in his message of love and stewardship to nature and wildlife. It seemed a privilege to provide a special thank you to someone who had done so much to promote the Burgess legacy. 

Photo: Christie Lowrance and Nancy Titcomb at book launch, by Kimberly Lowrance

It felt wonderful to present a copy of Nature's Ambassador to Wayne Wright, the research librarian at the New York Historical Association who wrote Burgess' complete bibliography (2000) and was such a great help in confirming countless details about the author's literary work. A childhood reader of Burgess books, Wayne had traveled from Oneonta, New York to attend the book launch at Titcomb's!

Photo: Christie Lowrance presenting book to Wayne Wright, by Kimberly Lowrance

As a professional writer for more than thirty years, I have savored many exquisite moments, but the book launch of Nature's Ambassador: The Legacy of Thornton W. Burgess will remain one of the most purely happy days of my life.

THE NAMING OF A BOOK

My original title for this book came easily after I began to research it: The Legacy of Thornton W. Burgess. The first time I wrote those words, it was as if something had dropped into place, like foundation timbers. Once the work had a name, I was surprised to feel that it seemed more real to me.

The title remained the same for a year or so, and I still like its simplicity. But when drafts began moving off for review, one of my sons suggested that I consider a more elaborate book title.

At the time I was looking at how Burgess acquired information about nature. He often pointed out that as a child, and later as a man, he learned about nature when he was “afield,” meaning he was simply out and about.

I had strong affection for the mental image of this boy, setting off, as I had often done, across a field, through a woods, along a shore, meandering, simply enjoying being outdoors, looking around to see what there was to see that day. No agenda. No plan. Afield to me means free, loosed into nature. So the title became Afield: The Legacy of Thornton W. Burgess.  

It felt right, but somehow incomplete. I had an instinctive sense that somewhere I would stumble upon The Perfect Title.

And I did.

One day I was looking through a stack of Burgess essays. Among them was a 1935 article titled “Writing Seven Thousand Articles,” which Thornton Burgess had written for Pictorial Review.

In it he said, “I would rather write for, and talk to, children than to be a bestselling novelist. For the child mine is open and it receives truth without question. And I would rather be Mother Nature’s Ambassador to the Kingdom of Childhood wherein the passing of years means nothing than to be President.” 

In an instant I recognized the title of my book: Nature’s Ambassador: The Legacy of Thornton W. Burgess. I have been grateful ever since for the circumstances that put that old yellowed paper into my hands. It is a title that is true and lasting, and it speaks to Thornton Burgess’ dreams and mine.