I have a good start on my historical fiction novel about my great grandfather’s experiences following his capture by Col. John S. Mosby near Charlestown in September of 1864. I have several chapters written and need to flesh out and rewrite some chapters before I can move forward. Writing this story is a labor of love, my tribute to my ancestor’s courage in the face of adversity. It is truly fiction based on fact since his service record is sketchy and lacking a great deal of detail. I am forced to reconstruct his probable location and experience at any particular point in time based on the documented experiences of others who were taken at about the same time and place. Here is a short exerpt: Darwin ran a hand through his tangled brown hair. In just a few days it would be three years. Three long years! More than three if you counted from his enlistment in Dowagiac. Too long! he thought. Maybe I should have gone home when my enlistment time was up. I wish now that I had, but how could I say no with the whole regiment so fired up to win this bloody war? How could I quit with victory so close? So I gave them a fake grin, scrawled my name with the rest of them, and added my voice to the regimental cheer. Hell, they probably heard us yell back in Michigan.
