In the Pines - An 1800s Black / Native American Novella
Naomi Jackson never thought her life would come to this. She'd been abandoned by the father of her two children. Stranded during the last days of 1809 in a ramshackle stream-side home in rural Tennessee. But here she was. The Devil Bill Williams had vanished. Now it was up to her to care for her two innocent, beautiful children. God had already given her so much. She knew that David Oxendine was honor-bound to return south to care for his father. To return to the life he had sworn to care for. But where did that leave her? * * * Across the River - an 1800s Black / Native American Novella is the second in a series of novellas about Naomi Jackson's heartfelt, challenging life. These stories are based loosely on author Lisa Shea's real-life ancestor, Naomi Jackson, who was born in 1784 in Guilford County, North Carolina. Naomi's father had been taken from Northern Ireland as a child, while her mother was mixed-blood black, Lumbee, and Irish. Each novella has a cliff-hanger ending, much like Naomi's life. All author's proceeds from the Naomi Jackson series benefits local battered women's shelters. An important note for readers of my various series. Normally my content is quite "clean" with little to no swearing, violence, or physical intimacy. With this being based on the immense hardships my ancestor struggled through, I wanted to be authentic to the issues she rose above. This book therefore includes period-appropriate harsh language as well as several scenes of conflict. I gave a great deal of thought to including these and feel they are necessary to fully convey the trials she overcame. I apologize to those who feel uncomfortable reading that style of material. Please feel free to contact me at my website if you have any questions or comments - I thrive on your feedback.
- Paperback | 114 pages
- 133.35 x 203.2 x 7.37mm | 185.97g
- 30 Jan 2015
- Illustrations, black and white
Other books in this series
About Lisa Shea
I have wanted to write this story for a long, long time. Naomi Oxendine, born 1784, is a direct ancestor of mine. She endured a staggering amount of hardship in her life. I am extremely fortunate to have reams of records on her, because of a court case that her son, Johnny, was involved in. Much of the court case centers around race, perceptions of race, and interpretations of race. It is powerful, fascinating, depressing, and instructive, all at once. Despite those records, there are still great swaths of information which has been lost over the years. Many records were destroyed during the Civil War. I take liberties with those "holes" to create a compelling story - but I strive to stay true to the known facts. My intention is to authentically present the many traumas that Naomi had to endure. To show my enduring respect for her tenacity and spirit in the face of great challenge. The late 1700s and early 1800s were a tumultuous time in the American South. Irish slavery was just as horrific as African slavery, and yet it's rarely talked about. During those early years, there was often a sense of "we're all in this together" as colonists struggled to survive in a wild, new country. Blacks, whites, Portuguese, Lumbees, and others worked, fought, played, and loved. It was only as life began to become more "civilized" - and there was more to lose - that the whites in power took greater and greater steps to solidify the strata between them and the "others." The topic of slavery, inter-race relations, and why people do what they do to other people is one that entire college degrees are based around. It would be impossible for me to encompass all the myriad of reasons and factors in short novellas. Still, I think the more we can be aware of what our ancestors went through, and where we came from, the better we can try to understand where we are now and make a path to a better future. For us, and for our next generation. I am wholeheartedly proud to have Irish blood, Lumbee blood, African blood, and the many other streams which joined together to make me unique. I would hope that, someday, we can respect all people, of all colors, shapes, sizes, and backgrounds, and treasure them for their unique beauty and style. In the end, we are all kin.