Earlier this month I participated in a three-session workshop presented by Colin Mustful, the founder of History Through Fiction, an independent publisher of historical fiction. Colin is based just up the road from me in Roseville, MN, and is a talented historical fiction author. He is passionate about storytelling, growing the field of historical fiction, and promoting new and established writers.

I was surprised during the introductions at the start of the first session by the number of attendees who had already written and published historical novels. Since I had never written a novel of any kind, I thought I might be in a little over my head. I was wrong. It was a fantastic group of writers, looking to work on their craft and learn from other writers. Colin provided an in-depth exploration of what historical fiction is and how to get started writing it. Colin said he is planning to add more classes and workshops to the History Through Fiction repertoire. He already hosts a regular panel series, “What’s New in Historical Fiction” offered on Zoom. The panels typically consist of four published historical fiction authors sharing their motivations and experiences. There is a discussion coming up Monday, February 27th – Click here for more information!

One of our assignments was to take a primary source and create a scene around it. I chose a letter my sister had transcribed a number of years ago from our Great Aunt Mary to her sister, Agnes. Agnes was our grandma. My grandma hung on to just a few old letters, so this must have held special significance. Mary included her recipe for spritz cookies in the letter, which I think explains the significance and why Grandma held on to it.

I created a fictional scene around the letter, featuring my mom and my grandma. It was fun to write. I caught a glimpse of what I might want to do with all of the family memories, stories, and histories I hold so close to my heart. Using fiction to fill in the gaps of what I don’t know was liberating. It is OK that every detail is not a known fact or exactly perfect.

Cold Snap with Love

“Is that you, Eileen? Shut that door and come inside! No need to heat the entire neighborhood.” Mom scurries to the front door from the kitchen.

Eileen wins the battle with the blizzard-strength wind and pushes the door closed. She is tall for a fourth-grade girl and slim, but strong.  

“The afternoon mail is here and there’s a letter from Aunt Mary! Can we read it?” Eileen hands the letter to Mom and takes off her mittens. She reaches behind her head to untie the bulky knit scarf, but the knot is too tight. Sister Barbara was a bit overzealous with the scarf-tying assistance. She worried that her students would freeze as they walked home from school that frigid afternoon. Eileen was so tightly bundled up that she could barely move her head from side to side to check for cars when she crossed Chicago Avenue. 

“How on earth did you accomplish this, I wonder?” Mom undoes the knot and unwinds the web of knitted wool. “This looks like Sister Barbara’s work.” Mom takes Eileen’s jacket and snow pants and helps her off with her boots.

Mom wraps her arms around Eileen and warms her up with a big squeeze. Mom’s apron smells like baking – nutmeg, cloves, and ginger. Eileen wagers with herself that it is a spice cake. She can almost taste the dense cake, dark brown from molasses, full of nuts and raisins, with shimmering sugar sprinkled on top. 

“The kettle is on. Let’s see what news your auntie has for us.” Mom walks out to the kitchen, waving the letter behind her.

“Sit yourself down. You can start reading while I get the tea.” Mom places the letter on the table.

Mary is Mom’s oldest sister. She lives in Benson. That’s near where Mom was born, but when she was eleven, she moved to Minneapolis with her family. Mary stayed in Benson to work and help their Aunt Maggie. Eileen loved letters from Mary because Mom loved letters from Mary. The sisters were the best of pals.

Eileen slides her finger under the flap and opens the envelope. Two pieces of plain white writing paper are carefully folded in half inside. 

“It’s two pages! Should I start reading?” Mom nods. Eileen clears her throat and sits up straight.

Mary calls Mom, “Agg.” Her name is Agnes. Mary has nice cursive and only misspells a few words, here and there. Eileen begins:

Wenesday evening. Dear Agg, John and kidds, got your letter today and was glad to hear from you and that you are all fine. As this leaves us the weather here has been very cold all day. Quite a change. It was 28 below this AM. Sure burns up the fuel oil…”

Mom interrupts with a chuckle, “Wasn’t it good of Mary to send the cold with her letter!”

Eileen smiled and continues:

Suppose you are bingoing this evening. Hope you win. So you and Margaret are doing your Christmas baking together. That sure is nice. I sure miss you. I made fruit cake too…it was good. We had some for supper. I have made some cookies and candy. Wish you were here and would make coffee and munch. Ha ha!

Mom sets down the tea and two slices of fresh spice cake on the light gray Formica kitchen table. Eileen beams at the sight of the tea and cake and promptly burns her tongue with the first sip. 

“Mary is a great one for coffee. I miss the chats, too,” Mom sits down at the table. She pours tea from her cup into the saucer to cool it before supping it up. This is how Mom and her sisters approach their hot beverages. Eileen has yet to master this technique and suffers for it. “Aunt Mary asks some questions about old Jack Byrne and talks about canasta and bridge and what the girls are doing in school. I’ll let you read that part later. I’ll move on to page 2.”

Well Agg, as things look now we won’t be able to come down for Christmas – sure are sorry about that – but her nibs was in the hospital 8 days…”

Eileen knows she shouldn’t laugh but “her nibs” is crabby old Aunt Maggie. She likes when adults complain about other adults. 

“Now Eileen, don’t snicker at poor Aunt Maggie. Why was she in the hospital? Poor creature. Read on.” Mom’s words don’t match the mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Eileen continues:

…and they gave her some drug there and they gave her to much of it – it took her appetite and she still does not eat anything so of course she does not get back her strength…Mary made Russian Tea Cakes tonight, only got 20 in a batch. Not many. Am afraid someone might pull back a stump. Ha”

This time it was Mom who giggled. Eileen was puzzled, “What does that mean, ‘pull back a stump?’”

“Little Mary was baking cookies, but also eating more than her share. If she reached for any more, she would have her fingers chopped off as punishment for being greedy. Your aunt is joking, of course. It is one of the old sayings. Go on…”

You folks must plan and come out for a visit now on Eileeen’s vacation. We are sure looking for you. Let us know when you can come and stay as long as you can. Say Agg, will you send me Aunt Rose’s address – “

“I hope we can go to Benson after Christmas!”

“We’d all like that. But, Eileen, is that the end of the letter? I asked her to send the spritz recipe.”

“She asks for more addresses for Christmas cards and then wrote down the recipe. I will read the last bit.”

Well Agg I hope to be seeing you fellows soon. We all send our love. Write when you have time and good luck with your baking. Have you your tree We haven’t as yet = be seeing you all.

Love,

Mary & Girls

Before Eileen can even finish the letter, Mom gets up and fetches a pad of writing paper and a pencil and starts writing back to her sister.