Transitions

                                                             Forbidden City

So here we are, at the cusp of a new semester of school. Since I graduated in May, this fact should have no impact on my life; however, prior to my long-awaited graduation I did the unthinkable and applied to graduate school. The graduate committee proceeded to do the unthinkable and accepted me into the program. Rotten luck, that. If they had only turned me down, I wouldn't feel obliged to go. But, despite my abysmal GRE math scores I have been admitted to the history program and begin school next Monday. I have three evening classes, running from 6:30 to 9:20, Monday through Wednesday. I gleefully believed my time for sitting through long evening classes had come to an end, but it was not to be.

Honestly, I'm not going into this latest endeavor with my whole heart as I did when working toward my undergraduate degree. My undergrad degree was my goal, my dream, and it had my full attention. I was determined to succeed and obtain my degree, no matter how long it took or how difficult it became. I don't feel that way about grad school. It's almost like I'm must testing the waters with this first semester. Can I stand to do the school thing for another year and a half? Is it worth it to me, to deal with the homework and the time spent studying? I don't have the answers to these questions yet, but I soon will. I'll let you know.

Meanwhile, following a trip to China, I have been working part-time, continued with my volunteer efforts at the archives with a project that is taking longer than I anticipated, and I have been writing a book that I hope to complete before the end of the year. Not much going on, as you can see.

Also, as promised in an earlier post, I have begun two new blogs. One is about family history/genealogy, and the other about Ozarks/Missouri history. And just to top things off, I have a new Facebook page devoted to history and genealogy, located here. I hope you will stop by and visit me at my new locations. I will still pop in here from time to time; without a doubt I will have a few rants to make about grad school!

Murder Most Foul

 My days are filled with murder. Murder for money, murder for love, and murder for, well, family issues.

I've read two books for class so far this semester, the first one titled Never Seen the Moon,The Trials of Edith Maxwell. Edith was a schoolteacher in western Virginia in 1935, when a late night altercation with her father landed her in the local jail, charged with murder. Edith's story is told by journalist Sharon Hatfield. Her book is a non-academic, but very professional, non-lurid true crime story that focuses on Edith's ordeal in relation to women's rights and the impact of yellow journalism. I enjoyed reading this book.

The second book is Murder on Rouse Hill by Alan Terry Wright, in which we learn the true story of how Jasper Francis was murdered by Charlie Blackburn over $1200 worth of cattle and his substantial bank account in the small town of Stoutland, Missouri in 1915. This book is written in creative nonfiction style, which quite frankly, is not my cup of tea. I skipped over many of the "creative" parts of the book, such as the scene where the horse, Sam Hill, is dreaming. Seriously? Despite my reservations about the books style, it is nonetheless an interesting and readable account of murder in the Ozarks.

In addition to these books I've managed to read one account of my murder, the Graham-Lee-Molloy case. George Graham had three women in his life (oops), two of which were his wives (double oops), and therefore one of them had to go. The account I read was produced in 1886 and reprinted by the local archives, where I just happen to volunteer. I also have a stack of about three hundred documents that I copied from the archives collection but have not yet had a change to read. In addition to these primary sources, I have numerous local history books that I want to read to get a feel for the Ozarks of 1885. Maybe if I wear period clothes, turn out the lights and lay on the bed, I will be transported back in time just like Christoper Reeve in Somewhere In Time. A girl can dream, right?