Construction Notes for the Character of Bryony Marseilles

In early June 2015, I stayed a couple of days at a charming Victorian bed and breakfast, where I spent a few hours in the parlor that first morning and built the character of Bryony Marseilles.

I found these buried notes this past week while working on entries for the BryonySeries guidebook and read them for the first time since I wrote them in 2015.

Up until 2015, Bryony was a shadow in her own series, even though "drop of blood" protagonist Melissa Marchellis was obsessed with her memory to the point of assuming Bryony's persona in her vampire-staged reality.

So what better setting to bring Bryony out of the shadows than in her home state (Michigan) in a home with Simons Mansion elements, where Bryony would live the most noteworthy years of her life.

But to construct Bryony, I also had to construct her parents, for every back story in Before The Blood started with the parents, where all back stories ultimately begin. 

I also needed to construct a very stark and primitive Munsonville, which was barely settled when Bryony's parents arrive.

I already knew that her father Galien was a minister and her mother Adele died when Bryony was three years old. I knew that Bertha Parks, the parsonage's housekeeper, stepped into a mothering type of role.

Before typing anything, I pondered on what I did know about Bryony (scant details already written and published) and how to expand the details into her character.

I turned to my long-buried, adolescent interest in astrology and decided to entwine Bryony with the fishing village. I chose a birthdate that made her a Pisces and used lake and fish imagery to fashion her personality and beliefs.

Re-reading these notes this week, I was struck at how remarkably true I stayed to them. I think the only digression was that Bryony never fell in love with either of the Scandinavian twins (she was more intimidated and fascinated by them), although her best friend had unrequited love for one of them.

I also never used the quote from John Simons. But he implemented it.

Temporarily.

Bryony and John's marriage was wonderful when her lake rolled to his shore, the place where two extremely disimiliar people could temporarily meet.

But lakes also roll away from the shore in smaller waves, with deeper mystery.

Here then are the initial, rough notes I made (in all their randomness and typos) on that beautiful summer morning.

Happy scrolling!

The long hours caused a setback, and Galien had forbidden Adele

Adele, her feminism and their premarital sex experiences and Galien, meeting, marriage after Adele is pregnant. She battles persistent bad health due to rhema feer after bought of scarlet fever. Ashamed and moves to Munsonville. 

When had Musnonville begun?

Munsonville is pretty new. Need a back story for it. and a reason for Galien to be sent there. Both of them are intellectuals and possibly older individuals that have Bryony a little later in life.

Very wilderness liek. Cottages for fishing and that's about it. A few homes begin to dot the hill, one store.

Need a back story about how Galien and Adele met, fell in love, conversed. They're vegetarians 

Owen Munson is there? He is mayor.

 Ann’s research highlighted an obscure fact about the village’s origins. Nearly two hundred years before Owen Munson visited the area, French fur trapper and fisherman Pierre Sicard established a small community that never thrived. During a trip to North America, Owen Munson purchased some land, assumed control, and named it after him.

Adele has poor health, they had sex anyway and feel guilty about the sin. Galien wants to be a minister, IS a minister at a church, and they are not married. Want a fresh start. He shares his dilemna with a friend who taught at the Need a back story for the historical Jenson, Shelby, and Thornton. The friend mentions the new settlement that wants to build a church and needs a minister to care for it. A hurried marriage in Thornton (Shelby is much younger) and Galien and Adele transplant themselves to Munsonvillle. (belongs in chapter 2). they live in a fishing cottage while waiting for the church adn parsonage to be compelted

Adele likes to sketch; they both like to read.

Scarlett fever

Adele, her feminism and their premarital sex experiences and Galien, meeting, marriage after Adele is pregnant. She battles persistent bad health due to rhema feer after bought of scarlet fever. Ashamed and moves to 

CHAPTER 2: THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH. Bryony’s earliest childhood years, Adele’s sickness and death, and Galien’s new role as mother/father. Views Adele’s death as punishment from God and is super strict with Bryony. 

SHOW that they shun meant.

   lived in a four-room cabin on the lake.

The ngihmare of symtpoms. GAlein did waht and ebruned her sheets at the end left ehr limp, we adn what.

   Bryony came home int hepsring and Galein set her aout side, ,up  the child dance dbatou ehr fett. 

Bryony’s earliest childhood years, Adele’s sickness and death Views Adele’s death as punishment from God and is super strict with Bryony. 

Shotgun marriage

Pregnancy and early years of marriage

Adele as mother and Galien as co-parent father

Building a church together

(reading with his head on her lap)

Bryony is ho june 5, 1892 brony is 17 Dec. 24, 1893 Bryony is 18.

Bryony is born 1875.

Bryony (Feb. 19) Water and fish are the biggest metaphors

Ethereal 

Dreamer

Makes connections others don't see

Sees below the surface

Intuitive

Swim through life: with the flow or against it?

Kind to friends and strangers

What you see isn't necessarily what you get, much swims below the surface

She is the shy (?) one in the corner listening, especially true at the Munsonville Socoety for the Humanities meetings.

Listens to people's problems

Is trustworthy

Escapes through daydreaming or reading

Swims away from her problems?

Emotions are complex, fluid, stormy, changeable. 

Her challenge is to discern between truth and mirage.  (John faithful, not unfaithful)

Vivid imagination

Fascinated with the green-blue lake

She is the lake, John is the land, very different to each other, the magic is where they meet, the conflict is where they don't

When the honeymoon period ends, Bryony is wary of leaving Munsonville.

Daydreams of love growing up, love is a daydream

Bryony’s actual marriage to John is gentle rain, thunderstorms, retreat, ebbing away

She gives everything when it comes to love…except leaving Munsonville and her father.

Bryony wants the fairytale romance in the woods with John. John wants her to roam the world with him. He sees Simons Mansion as their retreat sanctuary. Eventually, they both view it as prison.

Bryony is in love with one of the twins, then Henry, and then with John.

To John, there is an aura of mystery around Bryony, a pureness, and a subtle distance that intrigues him. 

Bryony shrugs off emotional jams or arguments with John, to the point of minimizing the depth of his need behind his requests, can be evasive and even avoidant. John counteracts this with his blunt, brief, candid directness (think morning room scene where he overturns the table when Bryony casually announces she is not going).

She is physically weak, but psychically strong. (John sees the capability, the Reverend Marseilles sees the limits).

Easily forgives

Is lonely if the important person in her life, John, leaves her alone to take care of her life when her life is a mess. She interprets this as lack of concern and love on his part. (Why she reaches out to Henry).

Swimming with the currents, her life in Munsonville as she has always known it, Bryony is most relaxed. She resists John pulling her against that current for a broader life.

Needs a lover, John, to safeguard her and give her security. It seems John wants to provide this. He wants Bryony to find it in him. She does, but the pull of Munsonville and her father’s wish she stay is strong.

John tries to be her optimal partner: a man that can inspire her to be larger and protect her while doing it, to ground her in her unrealistic fantasies, to help her achieve.

More comfortable and at home drifting with the Munsonville currents

Copes by floating away in her own world

Not a leader

A friend to all

Has trouble saying no

Supportive

The scent of the lake turns her on.

Sex and love are the same for her (at girst)

With a heavy heart, Galien shouldered the task of becoming father and mother to Bryony as well as chief housekeeper.

How managed daily life with a child beside him . What their daily life consists of

Galien's struggles to maintain his vegetarian principles. He reads a lot. Misses company of Adele won't find it in other women so begins the Musnovnilel Scoiety for the HJuamnites men only no owmenb.

He reads constantly, so Bryony asks him to teach her how to read, impatient with being read to so she can read on her own like he does too.

What he cooks for her

He also reads stories. Her favorite Bible stories have to do with fisherman.

Bryony lieks to sketch and is ecurged to sketh wwhat she sees. Precosious devlepmet.

She learns to read and reads aloud to her father while lying in his lap. Galien recreates Adele 's habits as much as possible in Bryony.

Housekeeping suffering. STruggled to keep up.

 "Reverend Marseilles," Bertha Parks said as she removed the mop form his hand. "I am here to help."

 Wityh a tremendous sigh of relilg, Galien relinquished his weapon to the woman soon to become general of his household.

Has chlorosis: Health: headaches, breathless, blue tinge (iron-deficient anemia)

Propfessor friend start visitnh Galien and eventually brings more friends. Bryony stays close by. Bertha Parks comes to help with the housework.

Bryony's preschool years at home with Galien: what were they like

Bryony is reading in preschool by Galien

Her favorite Bible stories have to do with fishermen

Has sketches that Adele did; Bryony likes to sketch, too.

Psudo-incestuous (reminscent of The Cenci, study)

Mother Goose

Grimm's Fairy Tales

Aesop's Fables

End with Bertha Parks bullying her way into the household.

Housekeeping suffering. STruggled to keep up.

Needs to use her creativity

Dedicates herself wholly to the tasks at hand (even Reverend Marseilles’ parsonage work).

Has a difficult time setting forth a course of action for themselves. Floats along with  child-like trust fate will guide her the right way. Needs guidance and grounding.

John handles all money affairs.

Bryony handles Bryga

Loves Anna to the moon and back but lacks the inner discipline to discipline her. Can be a child right beside Anna and share too much about her life with John. Anna eagerly soaks it up.

Needs to be near a body of water, needs to be near Lake Munson and Munsonville. Is grounded there.

Not one to exercise much because of poor health

Simple clothing as a child. John chooses bold fashionable clothing for her in marriage.

“Time for the mermaid to step onto shore,” John said.

I Now Own a Gzrlyf

My particular Gzrlyf was an Old Calendar Christmas present from Jasmine.

It's like a hope chest in a bag. I'll explain that in a minute.

Now what's especially fun about this particular Gzrlyf is that it plays nicely with my muse, Warren Peace because it's so "charming."

My Gzrlyf comes with a coffee mug, pens for notes, and scisscors for edits.

It comes with a typewriter for getting the words on the page.

It comes with a warning to anyone who dares interfere with the creative process.

And it comes with the goal of all that effort.

So that's my Gzrlyf. 

However, I don't have any photos of Warren Peace. He's rather shy, but I can often coax him out with plain, dark roast coffee. 

Update on "Call of the Siren"

Last weekend, I spent part of Saturday reading through my current BryonySeries novel in progress.

It's called Call of the Siren and it's the second book in the Limbo trilogy. (The first is The Phoenix, and you can find a copy of it here).

After weeks and months of very slow, all-over-the-place progress - despite two at-home writing retreats and a solid outline - the muse finally perked up a few weeks ago...just in time for the holidays.

So I was very pleasantly surprised to learn that I had finished than I'd assumed. Nearly half of the chapters are completely edited on my end (meaning, they are ready for my editor) and portions of many others are partly edited.

A few chapters and large amounts of other chapters are still in draft form. Below, I'm sharing my file that shows my progressions and gaps, along with my back cover summary of the story.

As you can see, the story hasn't come together in a linear way. But it does read well, and I'm eager to finish it and send it to my editor - hopefully by early spring. 

Hopefully, anyone who writes can see writing a novel is sometimes like assembling a puzzle of ideas. And anyone who reads can see a glimpse of how stories are constructed.

Cover art is by Nancy Calkins, wife of Ed Calkins, Steward of Tara.

CALL OF THE SIREN

Sue Bass is haunted by dreams of her father, who died in a boating accident before she was born, alluring dreams of water and song. But then a soft-spoken outside man with an inside plan comes to town, and Sue's sleepwalking stops, only to resurface with greater magnetism when he leaves.

Two voices beckon. Which one will she heed?

Prologue:

PART ONE: WATER

Chapter 1: Lullaby

Chapter 2: Music or Madness

Chapter 3: Town Mouse

Chapter 4: Country Mouse, Monday Sept. 13, afternoon (spot places to fill in)

Chapter 5: Water, Butter, and Wine

Chapter 6: Little Girl Lost

Chapter 7: The Lure of Their Eyes

PART TWO: FIRE

Chapter 8: Flames and Frost

Chapter 9: Even The Sparrow (drafted)

Chapter 10: Bewitched By Her Sweetness

Chapter 11: House Calls, Saturday, Sept. 18, morning (drafted)

Chapter 12: Coin for the Passage

Chapter 13: Plaintive Cries, Sunday, Sept. 19, morning (1/2 drafted, 1/2 edited)

Chapter 14: As Sharp as Spears, Sunday, Sept. 19, afternoon (1/2 drafted, 1/2 edited)

Chapter 15: The Meadow of Skeletons

PART THREE: AIR

Chapter 16: Gates of Horn and Ivory

Chapter 17 Ask, and It Shall be Given You

Chapter 18: Seek, and Ye Shall Find (nearly edited, needs writing in spots)

Chapter 19: Knock, and it Shall Be Opened Unto You (1/3 edited, 2/3 drafted)

Chapter 20: The Stain No Storm Could Wash Away (1/3 edited, 2/3 drafted)

Chapter 21: A Stone and a Serpent (drafted)

Chapter 22: Treading Water (drafted)

Chapter 23: Last Dream of my Soul (1/2 drafted, 1/2 edited)

PART FOUR: EARTH

Chapter 24: On Solid Ground (1/2 edited, 1/2 drafted)

Chapter 25: Ideal – and Worthy of Envy  (2/3 edited, 1/3 drafted)

Chapter 26: Sue’s Diner, (1/3 edited, 2/3 drafted)

Chapter 27: In Dark Depths Lurking (1/3 edited, 2/3 drafted)

Chapter 28: The Abyss Beckons (drafted, a few graphs edited)

Chapter 29: : No Breath of Wind, No Ripple of Water (1/3 edited, 2/3 drafted)

Chapter 30: Ferry and Scythe (edited)

Epilogue, Monday afternoon (1/2 edited, 1/2 drafted)

Going Backwards (and Retreat Update)

While many writers enjoy the exhilaration, creativity, and freedom of first drafts, I'm not one of them.

I felt that slew of emotions with the first two and half books in the "drop of blood" trilogy and then I hit some serious writer's block and abandoned the third for a few months.

By then, I had a contract with a small press and had begun the serious editing process. Watching my words take on the shape of what I had really meant to write was the real sense of satisfaction.

First drafts are not like that.

As are many "firsts" in life, I suppose.

All sense of polish and shine aren't the writer's friends in those early drafts. In order to get the words out, especially in such rapid fashion as I'm doing this week, you must resort to weak and clumsy and cliche - everything writers try to avoid.

Writing this way feels like going backwards. But you know the old saying.

But even as writers push forward, a part of them should remain comfortable with their own sloppy writing. During the drafting stage, it's important not to get hung up on phrasing, mood (except to simply state it), deep characterization and setting, the five senses, etc. until to, again, state the intention.

The clean-up comes later. But you can't clean-up a mess you didn't make. You can't prune a plant you didn't grow. You can't refine words you didn't write.

So for any writer out there (or anyone, really) in their same routine who thinks I'm currently sitting in a dreamy, caffeinated haze while swimming in my imagination, that's not happening.

But the words are happening. And I'll be very happy I wrote them when, next weekend, I want to spend Saturday editing a chapter I wrote this past week. And I'll be happy the following Saturday, too, when I want to do the same thing.

I'm happy now, too, of course. Happy that I work for a company that gives me vacation time. Happy for the opportunity to spend a week working on a goal. Happy for a family that supports my rather pointless writing and isn't spending too much luring me away from it. Happy for the calico cat who lets me have nearly have my desk chair.

Happy for the hot weather this week that makes it sensible to stay inside writing. And happy, of course, for coffee and imagination.

So am I hitting the goal?


All the even chapters of The Phoenix or fifteen chapters. This is first and foremost. And I started on it yesterday afternoon and wrote until my brain shut off at 9:30 p.m. (but I did have an extremely short night of sleep Thursday into Friday).

Finish formatting Lycanthropic Summer. Since I want to release it by October 1, this is important

Finish the last two chapters of Cornell Dyer and the Old Folks Home and copy edit it. My goal is three books a year. I'm just on the first one. So I'm way behind.

Finish formatting WriteOn Joliet's fourth anthology. This is even more first and foremost than The Phoenix.

Get the content Rebekah needs for a new website. Can't move forward without this. Better make it a priority.

Get Rebekah the photos she needs for the new Bertrand book. The goal is three a year. We released one last year. Again, way behind.

So far:

Nearly two chapter drafts of The Phoenix each day, and that's it.

Slightly behind, but yesterday was a day of intermittent interruptions and one health emergency for my oldest son.

But at this rate, I'll have all of the chapters of The Phoenix drafted by Saturday morning.

And I'll still have the weekend to finish the plan.

That is the plan from a Tuesday morning point of view.

Illustration by Kathleen Rose Van Pelt for "Bryony."

Where Do You Struggle? (And Seeking Some Advice Here)

Accompanying any project or pursuit, including writing, are parts that are easy, difficult, boring, exciting.

As a beginning novelist not having any clue of the process, I found the drafting part most exciting. I was finally writing the story that had lived in my head for decades. I was finally writing an entire book, hooray!

The thrill of putting those scenes to Word document, developing those characters, creating structure, all of these produced an exhilaration that I can't seem to match today.

I mistakenly thought that was my favorite part of creating a book.

Now that I'm a few books into the thing, I'm finding I really enjoy editing. By now, the story has form and shaping and polishing is easier and more rewarding than the early, messy stages.

I have forgotten how to do "early" and "messy" over the nine years it took me to write Before The Blood, the sequel the BryonySeries "drop of blood" trilogy (Bryony, Visage, and Staked!).

And I'm really struggling with this.

I have two novels going at once, two very different novels in terms of characters, plotting, and structure.

I know how the stories should look (overall) and where the stories are going.

I'm in touch with the characters.

I spent about three years outlining BTB.

I then spent about five years writing it (a year per installment).

In the final year, I edited and released all five installments (and one book with all the installments beneath one cover).

So for most of that time, I worked from a well-developed outline.

During this time, I also write six books for The Adventures of Cornell Dyer series.

But I also worked from outlines that Timothy Baran had created. I was simply the ghostwriter.

So I'm not certain if I need to step back and create more detailed outlines or step up and just do some free flowing writing with these stories and let them develop themselves.

Help!

Famous Last Words? How About Famous First Lines

One of my mother's favorite comebacks to comments from either my sister or me was, "Famous last words."

I don't have any of those to offer today, but I do have a link to famous FIRST words.

Sometimes, the hardest part about beginning a story or novel are the initial words.

For me, I almost always can't write any type of story (fiction, nonfiction, or otherwise) unless I have the first lines and the last lines.

Here's how other authors have managed this:

http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/there-are-no-rules/famous-first-lines-learn-how-to-start-a-novel

First Drafting Fun

As much as I harp on "most writing is rewriting" get that initial draft on paper can be exhilarating and frustrating, depending on the free flow of ideas.

At this point, don't be too concerned with character development, grammar, spelling, typos, plot construct, conflict, or what your next door neighor might think about the prose, etc. Just plug in your favorite muse enhancer (caffeine, music, daydreams, walks) and crank out those sentences.

Still stuck? Here's some ideas.

* Throw in something whimsical - Have a cow fall from the sky and land on the protagonist's best friend. How does everyone react? You might learn something about everyone involved. Then cut the cow and proceed.

* Throw in something impossible in your story's world - Equip someone with superhuman powers. Or shapeshifting abilities. Or even mathematical genuis in the neighbor's cat.

* Kill off someone - Does the story still work? Is it better? Can it be used to advance the plot?

* Throw a character a blessing and then remove it - How does he/she react? Can you make it something deeper? Is the blessing a disguised threat?

* Take something benign and  give it hidden meaning - The carnival goldfish Susie won on an outing with her parents is a trapped soul. Or leftovers from scientific experimentation that a sloppy lab assistant accidentally let slip out the door and is now highly radioactive, with detrimental effects on the entire family?

* Just ask "what if?" - What if Dad didn't come home from work, ever? What if the gardening sheers turned on Grandma? What if the school bus driver took a wrong turn, and everyone ended up in a time warp? You get the idea.

Happy writing! :)

Writers: Save Those Drafts

On Saturday, while searching for a prototype photo I had found online and saved for Kellen Weschler back in 2008 (never did find it), I stumbled across something in my files that I had considered long gone: the original version of Bryony.

No, I'm not referring to those random, typewritten scenes from decades ago, long since rotted in some landfill, scenes I tried pecking out while older children remodeled the fort in the backyard and babies crept around the bedroom, writing was so awful I couldn't bear to read them at the time.

I'm referring to Bryony the pseudo-novella, before it was named (It was actually never named until I'd completed it) and saved only as vampire story, my paltry attempt at pullling the story out of my head and onto paper (well, the computer) as a present for Timothy's seventeenth birthday, that Labor Day weekend in 2007 when I realized Bryony was not a weekend project and not a novella, that to do a proper job, I had to write a book.

All this time, I has believed that I had rewritten that novel's first draft over the original file, that, rough as that draft was, it was the oldest remaining draft. To my delight, I learned on Saturday that it is not.

Delight?

When I first began writing Bryony, I had read a quote by (I think it was by Stephen King), something to the effect of hoping that no first drafts would lying around when he died. I recall vigorously agreeing with that saying after first time I'd read a scene aloud (Henry trapping Melissa in the closet at the Harrington's ball) and nearly gagging at the horrible writing, thankful I had whispered those lines so Rebekah in the next room would not hear how bad it was.

I don't agree with that quote anymore, and here is why. I learned two things from that draft. I saw how far my writing had progressed in seven years, and I also realized how well I could write, even then.

For amongst the badly constructed scenes, characters, dialogue, plot, wordings, I found some very well-done lines that actually appear in the published version. Sprinkled throughout the muck were seedlings of the progress I would make if I actually kept learning, and writing, and rewriting, and editing.

I could not have made this improvement had I not kept writing.

This tells me two more things. One, I'm glad I kept writing, and two, I'm hopeful that if I keep writing, I'll continue to grow as a writer.

And THAT, is very good news.

Okay, now for the real reason you read this far. Excerpts! Average chapter size: 500 words.

The man produced a set of keys, examined one of them and swiftly unlocked the door. The rush of bright light startled his friend. He looked about in amazement and wonder. “Why did you never tell me?” he asked, astonished.

He did not receive an answer to that question. A sudden, sharp pain in his back took his breath away and caused him to fall to the ground. He was dead before he could ask his best friend why he had stabbed him.

“There isn’t much to tell,” Melissa said. She and Brittany had looked him up on the Internet. His name was John Simons and he had lived at the turn of the last century. John Simons was a composer and pianist who had played all over the world. The rest of the story was a mixture of fact and fancy.

   Apparently, while vacationing at Munson, John had met the beautiful young Bryony Marseilles, just 16, daughter of the local minister and asked her father’s permission to marry her. The minister refused. He thought John too worldly and Bryony too young.

   But Bryony had other ideas. She had fallen in love with the handsome musician and begged and pleaded for her father to marry them. She said if he didn’t, they would have to leave Munson forever and he would never see her again. Against his better wishes, the Reverend Marseilles married John and Bryony. 

CHAPTER 4

The cottage was too square, too old and most of all too ugly. Melissa thought she would rather die than ever live in such a stupid looking place.

 But Brian was excited with the idea of living next to a mansion that might have some mystery to it.

 “Remember, Liss,” Brian must have told her at least a dozen times already, “No one REALLY knows what happened to John Simons. He just went away and never came back. What if his ghost haunts the place by night? How awesome would that be?”

 “Don’t be ridiculous,” Melissa snapped at him. Scooter tugged at his leash and Melissa tugged back. Brian grabbed the leash from Melissa and walked the brown-spotted white terrier around the yard, letting him sniff at the delightful scents of his new home.

 Darlene bought the dog as their “new home” surprise present for Melissa and Brian. They had never before owned a dog. Frank had not thought it fair to a dog to keep it in the city although Melissa and Brian had often begged for one anyway. Frank thought a dog should have lots of room to run free. But now that she had a dog, Melissa didn’t care if she had one or not. Melissa would have traded a hundred dogs to have her father back.

CHAPTER 5:

 “I’m sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for it,” Steve said as he bit into his hamburger. While Melissa and Brian were exploring Simons Woods, Steve Burns the maintenance man had dropped by the house to measure their bedrooms for the new built-in shelves he was going to build tomorrow. He was a lanky man, about 30, with a friendly face and a length of blond hair that kept falling over his brow.

Darlene brought out hamburgers and hot dogs and invited Steve to stay for dinner. He said he would, on the condition that Darlene allowed him the pleasure of grilling the meats. As they ate, Brian told them about the mysterious mist in the woods, the mist that Brian had not seen at all. Steve assured them that it was probably nothing more than cold air mixing with warm air, much the same way clouds are formed. Brian was not convinced.

CHAPTER 6:

“For your homework this weekend, do page 22 in your algebra textbook and begin working on your research project for the celebration,” said Mrs. Rebstock. “Class dismissed.” The small class filed out into the hallway. Although school had been in session for a week now, Melissa still could not get used to its small size.

Munson High School was located in the same building as Munson Junior High and Munson Elementary Schools. There were only about 15 freshman and less than 50 high school students altogether. Melissa was astonished her first day at the new school. “Why, the whole school is smaller than my eighth grade class was last year in Chicago,” she thought.

The ancient red brick building was three stories high and had survived two severe fires over the years. It stood near the town square as if to say, “It takes a lot to destroy us Munsoners.”

There was absolutely nothing modern about it—there wasn’t a computer lab or even a gymnasium for crying out loud—but Melissa could grudgingly admit it had a kind of charm.