Karen L. Turner

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Biography

 

Welcome to my website! 

Sample excerpts from Cottonland Songstress andSwordsman on the Narrow Pathway during your visit!

 Background Information 

     Like a faithful old friend, my childhood pastime of story-writing made welcome visitations through life, resulting in a cross-culture scenario involving an unlikely pair’s intrepid journey, which became my first published novel, Cottonland Songstress.  My approach to shaping words into literature blends a child’s imaginative delight with an adult’s tested faith, presenting gifted characters' awareness of the turmoil with triumph.

 

 

 Accomplishments

     My petite mother with the full-cheeked smile, wearing a floral print dress and ruffled apron, could no doubt sell as many wartime pinup pictures as Lena Horne. On occasion I noticed her etching torrents of words onto a notepad.  Since she grew up in the middle of nine brothers and sisters, she never lacked for subject matter, whether or not the dizziness of raising me rated a chapter or two.  Once my eager involvement with my own notepad caught up with my joy of reading, I had mom’s arm-wrapped, smooching endorsement.

 

Only she never lived to see me graduate from elementary school, let alone witness my official, 21st century welcome into publication. 

 

As a biographical tribute to a mother who influenced my early writing fever, PublishAmerica included my essay, Abbreviated Alliance, in their collection entitled Mothers of Writers, Volume II, released in May, 2002. 

 

 Interview

Karen L. Turner

 When did you begin writing?

 

After I learned the looping pen-stroke at around the second grade, I wrote a brief essay at home concerning the origin of Easter, adding the mythical spring-versus-winter conflict.  But the real fever was fueled shortly afterward.

 

I never missed my TV cartoons before school -- or after school, or Saturday mornings, for that matter -- anyway, on those weekday mornings, my mother must have grinned every time she heard me complaining that the station kept cutting in with commercials before the episode was finished.  She encouraged me with a challenge:  "Why don’t you write them a letter?"

 

Sounded like a good idea, so I put my newly-learned script to work, and sounded off on a TV station in writing.  I had no sooner plopped my hand-written envelope with its folded content into the mailbox and resumed my day-to-day romping, when mom extracted from a stack of bills a gracious reply from the station addressed to me, on their logo-splashed letterhead. Their sincere apology, with a pledge for improvement, aroused a pigtail-lifting, brain-jolting confirmation of the influential power contained in the thoughtful shaping of written words.

 

Can you describe your novel in 50 words or less?

 

Cottonland Songstress involves the soulful singing of a nineteenth-century Alabama teen slave upsetting the vacation of her master's friend, a gallant Austrian voice coach who seeks no less than stage stardom for the wary youngster, despite strong doses of cultural awakening for them both.

 

What is your favorite scene in the book?

 

I particularly like the scene where D’Orleans and Peter first meet.  From the moment he heard her soaring voice during a field tour, Peter’s curious anticipation to meet D’Orleans in Woodley’s precious parlor unsettled the household; but when the shaken young slave took her first fearful steps inside the mansion toward him, Peter cared less about her master’s objections, studying D’Orleans’ delicate features before conducting a private audition to again sample her sumptuous vocal phrasing.

 

How did you get the idea for Cottonland Songstress?

 

I was reading a biography of the Italian composer, Giuseppe Verdi, how he had written a string of successful musical scores in the 1850s, affording him a livelihood of luxury, and I considered the severely opposite situation taking place in the Southern United States at that same time.  Folks laboring under bondage weren’t granted human status, let alone allowed VIP service in a theater.  I developed a scenario of what could happen if one of those privileged musicians met a burdened field slave who possessed a thrilling soprano voice worthy of the dramatic stage.

 

What would you want your readers to take away from the book?

 

A reminder of dignified courage from the past, necessary in the present.  Hopeful determination not to compromise your talents, despite encounters with stubborn fear.  Encouragement for our stage and studio performers to hold onto a commitment to drama.  Perseverance toward respectable goals in or out of the arts can transport you far from familiar territory, so never travel without your Bible.

 

What satisfies you about writing?

 

I love getting into my characters’ heads, creating dialogue, setting up situations that paint pictures and pull the reader into the scene -- senses they can feel, food they can taste.  To me, my characters are real folks even when the story is fiction.  Some of them are sure-enough sour company and get on my nerves, but that's how rotten they are, in word and deed.  On the other hand, I miss my heroes when I'm not writing about them.  They have something to prove, in a style that defines what shapes their character.  But in the process, they've got to get touched up, too.  It hurts when I have to hurt them, but that's how they learn.  I like the opportunity to reach a reader dealing with conflict, and offer at least one hero's testimony of direction, trials, and gallantry.

 

What did it feel like to see your work in print?

 

First I was struck by PublishAmerica’s impressive cover design for Cottonland Songstress.  The decorative image of a swirling musical staff superimposed on a cotton field under a blue sky showed me they got a sense of what would be swirling through D’Orleans’ mind in her uprooted situation.  Then, I realized my responsibility to present quality drama to readers, and I kept seeing places in the book that needed more revision!  So it’s a hopeful, humbling experience.

 

What was the best writing advice you received?

 

From Writers’ Digest:  Show-don’t tell, revise, revise, revise, writing is re-writing, never give up.

 

Which authors have inspired your writing?

 

Charles Spurgeon was a master at metaphors, his daily devotionals flow with them.  Charles Dickens used killer description.  Richard Wright was gifted for graphic assault.  Ernest Hemingway gets a mention for his technique of giving personality and perspective to the weather and wilderness.  Erle Stanley Gardner excelled in dialogue, and August Wilson’s brand stirs home-cooked regional roots into his characters’ distinctive voices.  I’ve even looked into the Dick Tracy  Casebook  by Chester Gould, Dick Locher and Jay Maeder for two-fisted cliffhanger techniques Billy Wilder wrote fine film drama: Double Indemnity, The Lost Weekend , Sunset Boulevard.  Another major influence has been Charles W. Chesnutt's bold works including The Marrow of Tradition  and The House Behind the Cedars. 

 

What books did you research to prepare Cottonland Songstress?

 

Besides language glossaries, sheet music, regional maps, railroad maps, cook books and 19th century clothing, a major credit goes to Labor of Love, Labor of Sorrow by Jacqueline Jones, and Bullwhip Days edited by James Mellon.  These books detailed the plantation slaves’ chore roster and got into their personal anguish, including revealing interviews with elder, former slaves recorded in the 1930s.  Another helpful text was The Diary of Hugh Davis, a frugal 1850s Alabama landowner’s personal inventory of his abundant produce, livestock, and slaves.

 

What advice would you give to other aspiring writers?

 

Don’t be cheap with your language.  Profanity is cheap.  Any lazy mind can use profanity, claiming “realism.”  The modern writer doesn’t need vulgarity to be authentic, and readers don’t need encouragement to be lazy. Develop a sharpened vocabulary, so that your narration and characters express attitude in unique, colorful terms.  Script writers  of early radio dramas couldn't take license with laziness.  Confined to rules that respected their audience, they had to finesse a technique that dodged profanity.  It worked, and their characters never lost a shred of intensity.  Successful examples (at libraries) are The Adventures of Philip Marlowe by Raymond Chandler, Suspense, The Whistler, Gunsmoke (writer John Meston), and Tales of the Texas Rangers.  These programs are rich in metaphors that pull you into waves of human conflict. 

 

Build a home collection of favorites your library offers:  biographies, dramas on CD, screenplays in print.  Even classic serial comic books from the past.  Read Billy Wilder's screenplays first, then watch the film. Check out classic lit authors:  Charles Chesnutt, Richard Wright, Charles Dickens, Ernest Hemingway, Spurgeon devotionals.  Learn to shape the query letter for your story down to one page.  Grab the publisher in the first paragraph with a highlight teaser from your story. A subscription to Writers Digest is helpful.  When you send a query letter or a manuscript by ground mail, always enclose a self-addressed, stamped envelope, and make sure you stick enough stamps on the SASE.   

 

Do you have another novel planned?

 

I’m working on a novel about  a bold originator at the birth of  rock-n-roll.  Meanwhile, the revised version of Cottonland Songstress is now available, with new scenes, revealing close-ups, and heart-lifting humor!

 

How can readers get a copy of your book?

 

Softcover price-reduction scheduled to 11/15/11 at  www.PublishAmerica.com or Online bookstores inlcuding e-book format at  Amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com.*

 

*[The review for Cottonland Songstress now posted on Amazon and Barnes & Noble sites, is from the book's earlier printing. The reviewer is not describing the newer version now available in softcover and e-book formats.]

 

Ask your favorite book store to order ISBN 1-58851-521-4

for Cottonland Songstress!

 

 Excerpts from the revised 

COTTONLAND SONGSTRESS, now available:

Talk traveled behind the great house. Voices agreed that the visitor

coming to stay with Major Woodley must be a rich man. To a slave,

all white folks who walked through the Woodleys’ front door had

gold-lined pockets and snow-packed hearts. Whenever the master

invited a guest, it only meant one more stuck-up, bossy white person

to fetch for. Another big-talking mouth to feed, and another pair of

greedy, unwelcome hands, poking into private property. If you were

black, bought, and sold in Clokey, Alabama you kept your head low,

your pain-limit high, your brains hidden, and your pockets emptied.

White folks laid claim to any trinket you thought you owned, when

they owned you. Watchful Negroes learned fast that whenever white

men got together, a swap soon followed. Deals hatched over crops,

livestock, or a loved one never heard from again.

                *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

The evening horn blast poured relief over backbones cracking

upright in the fields. Welcome, merciful rest just moments away.

A prime difference dominated the slaves’ thoughts in their silent

march back to the quarter. Why did Master Woodley order a formal

appointment with D’Orleans up at the great house? What did she do?

What would happen to her? The thirst for answers stung worse than

the muscle aches groaning for relaxation. Adult slaves hurried the children into bed, and then met outside their cabins in the cloaking darkness.

 D’Orleans trudged back to the cabins last of all. Fear clung to her wounds like ivy on brick.

“Hey, gal,” Cleta grabbed first place to ask. “Whatchu think, bein’

fetched fo’ up to the great house?”

“Don’t know. ‘Spect Marsa gon’ sell me,” D’Orleans shrugged,

fatigue catching up to her fright. “When they gon’ stop sellin’ us like

hosses?”

“White folks see us worse’n hosses,” snapped Laban. “I know the

hosses is eatin’ better.”

“Them folks up to the great house be long done with they supper

by now,” Hamp figured. “They be callin’ fo’ you ‘fo’ you know it.”

“That’s right. You best be gettin’ ready, child,” Marabelle said.

“We’ll dress that new welt overseer done give you today, an’ make sho’ you wash all that clay offa yo’ feets, an’ scrub yo’ face and neck good.”

D’Orleans didn’t recall having to wash and change clothes when

Major Woodley bought her from Mr. Dolton, some five years earlier.

She had even less facts about her days from birth on Mr. Altmore’s

Louisiana plantation. Altmore’s overseer caught her mother, Tempie,

reading the Bible to her baby daughter. Taken out for her whipping,

Tempie grabbed the first lash before it cracked. Her fist yanked on

the leather. The stumbling overseer fell forward. Tempie’s brogan-booted foot slammed into his crotch. She held the whip—around his

throat.

                 *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

The sewing group sprung from their chairs and rushed

over to their shaken friend, taking her into their concerned embraces.

“D’awlins, honey,” Marabelle gasped, “what’d they do to you? You

was gone long ‘nuff to be gang-whipped an’ barbecued!”

D’Orleans fought to catch her breath. Her eyes darted to each

cabinmate with wild fear. She panted through the details. “Y’all shoulda seen what happened! That Cap’n Stohl ... he made me look at him! His eyes burnin’ right through me! Marsa sittin’ right there! An’ Cap’n Stohl kept hittin’ on the piano an’ makin’ me make the same sound, raisin’ his hand till I was screechin’, an’ I couldn’t stop till he put his  hand down! I almost didn’t wait fo’ Marsa to say ‘git’, till I flew on the first wind blowin’ outta there!”

“But you know they’ll be down here any minute,” Cleta warned. “Cap’n Stohl an’ Marsa both!”

“Y’all shoulda seen the way he was playin’ that piano,” D’Orleans

rambled. “His hands was flyin’ up an’ down like the devil was in him!”

“Lord have mercy!”

“I thought he was gonna throw me on top’a that piano an’ take me

right there! I ain’t never gonna forget those eyes—like razors streaked

with brass!”

“We oughta mix up a conjure to keep that devil outta here!”