Today I welcome guest author Terri Karsten as she shares where she gets her ideas--and isn't that something we all want to know?

I’m often asked where my ideas come from. That’s not easy to answer, because ideas are all around me, often cluttering my mind and begging to be noticed. Each book has a different spark that starts the story churning.

Today I want to talk about the spark that started my historical novel, A Mistake of Consequence. The idea came from a college class in American Women’s Studies. We read about a young woman who had been indentured in the southern colonies. In her letter to her father in England, she complains of the horrible conditions she must endure and begs him to send her adequate clothing. Poor Betty, as she calls herself, blames herself as an undutiful daughter. Her story, incomplete though it is, made me want to learn more about the practice of indenture, which was actually quite common in the 17^th and early 18^th centuries. I learned that along with the people who indentured themselves or family members to pay for passage across the ocean and the opportunity of a new life, many men, women, and children were snatched from England, Scotland, and Ireland and sold in the colonies.

             This research led me to envision Callie Beaton, a young woman with a mind of her own, and a temper to match. Callie’s adventure begins when she is kidnapped from Edinburgh, transported across the ocean, and sold. Trapped in the bustling port city of colonial Philadelphia, Callie wants to go home, but she is penniless, nameless, and alone in a strange place.

History, especially women’s history, is important because people today can learn a lot from the challenges that people faced in the past. In my books, I imagine ordinary people living in circumstances very different from the modern world, but sharing the same emotions, joys, and concerns about their families. Strong, resilient women have guided life in all ages, and my characters reflect that.

Callie’s story portrays one of the many avenues indenture can take, but I wanted to show a broader picture of indenture, so I included two other indentured women in the story, one indentured by choice, and one by circumstances. Though both are secondary characters, their lives become entwined with Callie’s as the plot develops.

What began as my curiosity sparked by a letter turned into a romantic adventure that provides an intriguing glimpse into the lives of 18th century women, both the possibilities and the limitations. With adventure, romance, and mystery, the novel raises questions about right and wrong, choices and consequences, and an individual's role in his or her own destiny at a time when any man or woman could be held as property, and ideals of equality were a distant dream. Rich with the details of life long ago, Callie’s journey of self-discovery reflects a timeless need for love and belonging.

So, where do ideas come from? Anywhere and everywhere. Just let the spark grow.

Purchase A Mistake of Consequence here.

 Excerpt: A Mistake of Consequence

Part 1: Freight 1754 Chapter 1

My first mistake was throwing the wine in his face.

The crystal glass shattered against the hearth. The gentleman kneeling in front of me flinched, his wine-spattered face frozen in astonishment. Shocked silence filled the drawing room, a silence so profound I could hear the hiss of the candle on the table. A log crackled and spat in the fireplace. Then everyone spoke at once.

Grandfather was the loudest. He strode across the room and bellowed, “You will apologize to my guest this instant!” Towering over me, with a look as fierce as a Highland warrior, Grandfather meant to frighten me into obedience, but I knew the picture false. Even when Bonnie Prince Charlie’s troops had taken Edinburgh nine years ago, Grandfather had stayed well clear of the fighting on either side.

“I will not!” I braced my hands on my hips, my chin thrust forward. “I’m not the one who invited him here.”

Mam’s hands, a-flutter with lace cuffs, flew up to cover her mouth. My sister Elspeth, standing behind Grandfather, shook her head at me, whether in dismay or in warning, I could not tell.

“In this house, ye will do as I say,” Grandfather shouted.

“Aye, as long as you say what’s right and reasonable.” I was trying not to shout at him, but I had to raise my voice to make him hear me. “I’ll not apologize to anyone insulting me.”

The gentleman still knelt at my feet, his mouth forming an O as round as his pale eyes and bald head. Beads of red wine rolled down the end of his nose and dropped onto the black velvet of his frock coat where they left damp, shiny spots. He drew a linen handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and dabbed his face. “I meant no insult,” he began.

“Insult?” Grandfather interrupted him. “Are ye daft, girl? He meant to marry ye, though God knows why, shrew that ye are.”

Marry me? Preposterous! I didn’t even know his name. Mam, Elspeth, Grandfather, and even the gentleman all blathered some nonsense. I spun on my heel and ran.

“Wait, Callie,” Mam called after me. “Ye’re making a mistake!”

I snatched my shawl from the peg in the hallway and pushed outside. The door slammed behind me, cutting off Grandfather’s imperious command to return at once.

The city glowered under a murky sky. Grandfather’s house stood near the citadel in Leith, a few miles north of Edinburgh, near the harbor and his shipping interests. Now, as evening fell, a fine mist swirled up from the firth and settled on house and lane, chilling the air. Dampness made the cobblestones under my feet slick. As I paused, the front door flew open and Elspeth hurried toward me.

Grandfather threw open the window sash and thrust his head out. “Ye heathen! Have ye no sense? Ye’ve got the manners of a barbarian.”

Mam joined him at the window, her shrill voice carrying down the street. “Ye will never find a gentleman to marry, do ye not learn to mind your temper.”

I clutched my shawl and stormed away, ignoring the wet seeping through the thin soles of my drawing-room slippers. The problem was not my temper, but Grandfather’s endless stream of pitiful suitors.

“Go on with ye then, if ye’ll no see any sense. Ye’re no granddaughter of mine!” Grandfather yelled.

Elspeth caught up to me and grabbed my arm. “Slow down, Callie,” she panted. “He’s only trying to help. You’ve got to marry someone. You’re almost twenty!”

I snatched my shawl free of her grasp. “I don’t have to marry some stranger he brings home.” It wasn’t that I objected to marriage.

Nearly all my friends had long since married, and most seemed happy enough. I didn’t know what exactly I was waiting for, just not someone Grandfather picked.

About Terri:  

Retired High School English teacher, Terri Karsten, lives in a hundred year old house in the Mississippi river town of Winona, MN. After discovering the joy of writing way back in elementary school, she has written both fiction and non-fiction, with publication credits in a variety of magazines, newspapers, anthologies, and encyclopedias, including An Encyclopedia of Women’s History, Highlights for Children, Cobblestone, LaCrosse Tribune, Rattlesnake Valley Sampler, and many others.

When not putting pen to paper or tapping on the keyboard, Terri loves experimenting in the kitchen, exploring nature and the world, and cuddling with her many grandchildren. Terri’s blog focuses on historical cookery (trying out Colonial or Medieval recipes), historical places she has visited, and historical fiction she has enjoyed. Find her blog here:

www.terrikarsten.com

Terri would love to hear from readers and is happy to answer questions or speak to book clubs. Feel free to message her at wagonbridgepub@gmail.com or find her on Facebook.