By order of composition, as opposed to order of publication, Baptism on Bittersweet Creek is my second story (it was my third published, and neither was the first the first, nor the second the second either, you follow?). In 1996, when I decided to apply to the Clarion workshops, I discovered that the page count of my sole previous piece of fiction--the never to be seen in public When We Killed the Dogs--was insufficient for the applications. So I wrote the first draft of this piece, which was at the time titled I'll Fly Away.
I was accepted into the workshops and chose to attend Clarion West because the lineup of instructors that year was pretty much tailor made for me: Terry Bisson, Pat Cadigan, Jack Womack, Geoff Ryman, Ellen Datlow and Rachel Pollack were the instructors. Since I didn't have any other fiction, I ran my submission piece through the workshop that first week. This is the story Terry said has "thick but accurate" accents. My fellow classmates helped me a lot with the piece. They didn't like the title (and Ellen Datlow later pointed out that I couldn't use a lot of the song lyrics that originally appeared in the story because they were still under copyright; I was very new at this stuff).
I found other appropriate songs and gave the story its present title. Those keeping score will note that this marks the first appearance of Japheth Sapp in my fiction, though I'd developed the Cane County setting for the dogs story mentioned above.
The acceptance letter for this story showed up in the mail on the same day as the check for my second sold story. That's probably still one of my top "mail days" from a writing perspective. The story was published in the April 1999 issue of Realms of Fantasy (who seem to be giving away free magazines right now, by the way). The cover of that particular issue was used in their advertising materials for years, particularly on the blown-in subscription cards. You may have seen it: in an autumn forest, a barely dressed and definitely mammalian young woman stands before a menhir carved with ancient and inscrutable ruins. Also, she's got a dragon. The best part of the cover, though, is the tiny graphic advertising the film column about witch movies. It's a head shot, lifted as a detail from this publicity image of Veronica Lake in Rene Clair's I Married a Witch. Veronica Lake trumps barbarian princesses every time.
The very striking illustration for my story is by a Web Bryant, an artist who has trod lightly across the internet indeed. It's full of green and yellow light and shows a painfully thin young man standing in a creek before a waterfall, between giant trees. I like it a lot.
The story was eventually reprinted as the sort of title story for my chapbook from Small Beer Press. Details about that book are here.
The way that gospel music is used by the people in this story was inspired by the way that gospel music is used--not just sung or performed, but also as conversation--by my mother's family, the Singing Riches. The ridges sheltering Barnett's Creek United Methodist Church, and of course the creek itself, inspired the setting. All of this led to one of the best experiences I've had as a writer.
In 1998, I was invited by Lindsey Wilson College (in my home county) to give a public reading as part of a series they have there. I worked with my brother, Fred, my uncle Brian, my aunt Patricia, my grandfather, Stanley, and my mother, Rita, to integrate a gospel music performance with the reading of this story. Fred and Stanley played mandolin and guitar respectively (and sang bass, baritone or whatever else was needed at any given moment), Brian sang lead and/or tenor, Patrica sang alto and Mama sang soprano. Freed of copyright worries, we used the songs I'd originally intended for the piece. There were a hundred people there, many of whom we weren't related to.
I've got a lot of affection for this story, flawed as it might be. Baptism on Bittersweet Creek has never appeared in electronic form, so I'm doing the same thing I did with the previous entry in this series. If you click on the "continue reading" link below, you'll find a PDF of the story. It will be available for a week or so, until I put up an entry about a story called Sally Harpe. Thanks for reading.
UPDATE: The PDF mentioned above has been removed.
This post is not actually about yurts, sorry. (Okay, one yurt tidbit: the company that produced that yurt is one of at least three major yurt manufacturers in North America. Who knew?)
