Hysterically historical

It’s no secret that I LOVE history (or at least it shouldn’t be). History was one of my favorite subjects in school. In fact, I liked it so much that I took it twice on year. (Who knew that World History and World Cultures were the same thing? Spoiler alert: Not me.)

If, like me, you love history, then sit back and relax – you’re in for a treat. But if when you think of history, you think of Professor Binns droning on about some battle or other that no one still living even cares about, then I’m here to tell you you’ve been doing it wrong.

Don’t believe me?

Well, why not? 😛

hhmrhAllow me to present Exhibit 1 in my defense. I give you Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At Allby Mark R. Hunter. This entertaining look at Indiana’s history had me laughing out loud as I read. From paleo-armadillos to Mad Anthony Wayne, from beets to presidents (no presidents were beaten in the making of this book – at least, not that I know of), this book’s got a little bit of everything. It’s even got…

No campfire? The horror!

mark-in-gear-editedToday, I’m happy to have Mark R. Hunter here to talk a little about his newest book, The No-Campfire Girls.  A fellow member of the Ink Slingers League, he’s a pretty funny guy with a pretty insightful take on that most dreaded of questions posed to writers: “Where do you get your inspiration?”

 Take it away, Mark!

Sometimes I’ll finish a manuscript, look back over the story, and think: “Where the heck did this come from?”

On the other hand, sometimes it’s pretty clear where I got my story idea.

Storm Chaser? “Hey, I think I’ll write a story about a storm chaser.” Of course, after the initial idea things went wildly out of control, starting with the fact that my storm chaser became, technically, a disaster photographer. But Disaster Photographer didn’t have quite the same ring to it.

Coming Attractions? My unpublished novel about effort to save a drive-in movie theater was birthed while I was sitting in a drive-in movie theater. Usually in those places it’s not birth that’s going on, but conception.

Okay, maybe I do know where most of my ideas come from. The newest book, The No-Campfire Girls, can be traced easily to its source, which was an attempt by the Girl Scouts to shut down my wife’s beloved childhood camp.

I don’t use the word beloved lightly.

And she’s not the only one: A grass roots campaign sprung up, probably from the roots, of people across the area who wanted to save their camp. My wife and I came back from a visit determined to find a way to help them.

The problem: