No place like home.

My first job in college was transcription. I became so adept at typing, I would transcribe my own conversations, lightly, with my hands, while they were taking place. Thankfully, I walked into the newspaper office one day and put that new skill to use. 

One of my "grown-up" jobs was medical sales by phone, during which I would transcribe a medical interview, then question the patient about their needs in their home environment. I have become so familiar with the details of thousands of homes across this nation, that I feel like I have lived in them all.  I am about to make my twenty-fifth move, thanks to college, radio, and dissatisfactory apartments, but this will be a very good living arrangement. These home details, I am very comfortable recommending as safe and sleep-worthy. 

My new place has a writing office, in which I promise myself I will flesh out the rest of my story boards. In a recent visit to my great-great grandfather's house at the historical society, it took my breath away to note that my desk is not dissimilar to his. I stepped into his library and perused his volumes. To think-- one hundred years ago, he was sitting at that desk, reading David Copperfield and making plans with the NDAC for the Extension Service. Perhaps in one hundred years from now, someone will be sitting at their desk, and will come across one of my amusing little novels. They will ponder a Dakota Territory from centuries past, which their imagination may not be able to touch, if we, who have heard the stories, do not write it down.

I have no children. If I don't tell Sophia's story, it dies with me.

#somethingaboutsophia #northdakotahistory #historicalfiction #johnchristiansen #salemsue