Nancy Webb

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Up & Running! With an Excerpt!

Over the past few weeks, that lovely proof of my paperback I posted as last month's blog has been joined by her sister hardcover, and both print books are currently for sale at online book sites!

Amazon and other retail sellers require a 60-day pre-order period for books published by outside publishers that gives them data on how many units for them to have in stock. My release date is November 19th. I hope you will order A Woman of Marked Character for your personal reading, and later go back and buy holiday gifts for your family and friends! (At this writing, my e-book is not yet online but will be shortly.)

Already you can read excerpts here. A portion of a chapter is available for you to read on my blog post Excerpt from Chapter 8, Young Sarah Meets President James Monroe. And now I share with you my Author's Note for Book One 1812-1848 for you to enjoy.

Author's Note

I believe in magic—call it coincidence, happenstance, or Fate.

Smith's Point, Texas. Sunday, January 8, 1991.

I stood under an ancient live oak tree beside the grave of Sarah Ridge Paschal Pix. It was, coincidentally, the hundredth anniversary of her death.

Some months before at a historical society meeting in Orange, Texas, where I was living at the time, Kevin Ladd, former director of the Chambers County Museum at Wallisville, presented a lecture on a woman who had lived and died at her ranch on that point of prairie jutting into the east side of Galveston Bay.

As a freelance writer, my curiosity took hold. Why did this Cherokee woman have a Texas historical marker commemorating her existence in this world?

I gathered as much printed information as Kevin could provide me. Then, armed with a few facts, I set out to answer that question. On that chilly January day, a friend and I went in pursuit of Sarah's grave. Asking around at the Smith's Point community, we gained permission to walk through a cattle pasture to an oak grove where a small family graveyard lay near Sarah's historical marker. I parked on the side of the road. Pulling on our muck boots, we slipped through a barbed wire fence and trudged across the prairie.

The live oaks were overgrown with Spanish moss draping and resurrection fern clinging; wisteria vines dangled and poison ivy entwined a battered chain link fence surrounding a smattering of family headstones. My photographs show a foggy haze hovering over coastal marshlands. Sarah's marker was a worn tan stone incised with faded black letters reading "Sarah Ridge Pix, 1814 - 1891." (Today, the McNeir Family Cemetery is trimmed and manicured, and a more recent pink granite slab marks Sarah’s life.)

I had read that the live oak trees under which Sarah was buried were planted near their homeplace by her last son Charles Forest Pix, from acorns given him as a child. Grand spreading limbs rose and arched over their graves, but that day I envisioned smaller trees planted a quarter of a century before her death. Forest lies near his mother, curbing outlining his grave.

I stood in the hazy mist imagining Sarah walking through mustang grapevines, dodging palmettos pointing sharply; the browns, the grays, the greens. The crackle of winter leaves.

That January day standing over the stone that marked her time in this world, I told Sarah that I would write her story.

Sarah's life—I was to learn through my decades of intense research—survived in her letters, family memories, and a few portraits; court documents; and occasional paragraphs in books and dissertations written about her well-documented Cherokee father, brother, cousins, and first husband. A university press to which I sent an early proposal of Sarah's story replied if I could provide a footnoted biography, they would consider publication; I felt there was not enough documentation to write such a book.

So I give to you here Book One of my two-part biographical novel, a word-portrait of Sarah imagined by me—researched with diligence and devotion with a bit of magic tossed in along the way. The answer to my long-ago question rests within A Woman of Marked Character.

Nancy Stanfield Webb

I hope you enjoyed this story of my discovery of Sarah's grave.

Here are my souvenir photos taken that wonderful day, January 8, 1991!

Me looking at Sarah's tombstone under the live oak trees her son Forest planted about 1860. You can see the curbing outlining Forest's grave next to hers.

Copyright 2024 Nancy Stanfield Webb   (Do not reproduce without permission of author.)

Sarah Ridge Pix  -- 1814-1891                              Thank you for your words.                                                         

Copyright 2024 Nancy Stanfield Webb (Do not reproduce without permission of author.)