Greetings;
Vacations often evoke thoughts of fun memories and relaxation, but for a writer they can also trigger new story lines. Alaska and I personally connected for the first time last week, and that amazing state with its blue glaciers and friendly people provided new story material. In Ketchikan, an island of dense woodland, our tourist train weaved high up into immense mountains, where furry mountain goats skillfully scampered from one rock ledge to another. At a camp ground area, companions excitingly pointed out a young bear’s presence high in a tree. While they snapped pictures, I wondered, why was a young bear left alone, away from its mother’s protection? My next thought was where is the mother? If close by, she could be dangerous. That young bear’s story took up residence in my gray matter demanding to be considered. (Writers understand that nagging feeling. While other vacationers relax with friends, drinks, and food, writers write in self-imposed exile before those story thoughts vanish.)
A good story needs conflict, so what might be the young bear’s dilemma? Should the point-of-view be the bear’s thoughts or a prescient narrator, who sees the whole picture, rather than what is imagined or feared by the young bear within the plot? I began researching for answers by asking the natives, who had lived among the bears all of their lives. (Young children trust a writer to write what is true, and I consider it a sacred trust between me and my young reader.) One burly man with a white beard, shoulder-length gray hair, and a bulbous nose, was happy to share his experiences, while we shared a drink or two in the Red Dog Saloon. (A writer must do what is necessary to gleam good information. A library would probably serve the same purpose, but a sing-along bar is much more fun.) Another plot began to form for an adult story about our new friend, but the children’s story had already begun and took precedence.
His answers about the young bear gave new meaning to Nature’s way of having a mother “…cut the apron strings.” When cubs are born, mother bears teach them what different bear sounds mean. For one bear cub, a certain squeal from the mother meant,”…climb a tree as quickly as possible and stay there until I signal it’s safe to come down.” The sad reality is that when Mom decides it’s time for her young bear to begin life on its own, “…usually when it’s about eighteen months old,” says the native, she sends it up a tree with her danger squeal. Once the young bear settles high in the tree, the mother shuffles away into the deep woods and never returns. The young bear is left alone to survive on its own. It cries for its mother, sometimes for days. Feel that story beginning?
Question: How long does the frightened bear remain in the tree? My friend answered, “Usually about three days until it gets so hungry it finally makes it way down and heads off into the woods to search for food; it’s mostly never seen again.” The cub may survive to grow strong if: eagles don’t swoop down and grab it, a cougars growl doesn’t alert it soon enough to hide, and if it finds enough food and a safe place to sleep and hibernate until it’s big enough to fight off predators on its own.
Another fact for an interesting plot is an eagle’s eyesight is eight times better than a human’s and can “see” a potential meal a mile away. Wait. Another story about a young eagle or perhaps how eagles knock goat kids off the side of the mountain for their next meal? A little too graphic for a young children’s story, but it is still knowledge to be considered for some other kind of writing. Notebook pages flip; details are quickly recorded so they won’t be forgotten, and then back to the bear story. I sat at a picnic bench, scribbling in short-hand, notes of surrounding landscapes, (scene) the weather and how it might affect woods travel, and emotions felt if dangerous animals were lurking nearby, the “who, what, where, when, and how—the showing of the plot.”
Until next time, be alert, wherever you are, for a story. Always, always keep a pad and pen handy, for one can’t predict when a story will begin. Be well. Linda