Rabbit Holes
In which the author admits, she's easily distracted.
Happy May, everyone!
This week, we’re preparing to launch the next novel in the Circus Salmagundi series, “Maker of Widows”, at the Campbell River branch of the Vancouver Island Library on Saturday, May 9. It’s the seventh book in the series, so you’d think that, by now, I’d have realized it’s important to rest between projects. Take a break. Breathe deeply. Nap.
Nope!
I’ve started researching the next book, and, like a hippo on a river bank, I’m happily wallowing in whatever bits of trivia and sundry I can find. The eighth novel will be set in Victoria, BC, so I’m trawling through old newspapers and census data, weather reports and society pages, finding inspiration in the strangest of places. Heaven!
Yesterday, I was reading the Victoria Police Department logs from 1912. Most of the crimes were described in a manner I’d call ‘delightfully charming’. Of course, the officers at the time took these complaints very seriously, but nothing seemed too terribly tragic or insurmountable: there were accounts of young hooligans throwing stones, drunken scuffles, and dogs barking all night. One entry reads, “Con. Ireland telephoned to say that their (sic) is some trouble at 720 Fisguard Street”, but there’s no further details of what that ruckus might have been.
I soon came upon this entry:
Mr. W.E. Oliver “Bongate” Beach Drive. Oak Bay. Lost or stolen. Scotch West Highland Terrier grey colour. Answers to the name of ‘Bran’. Reward $25.
A stolen terrier! This entry sparked curiosity, and I chased that dog right down a rabbit hole. Within an hour, I’d learned that Mr. William Edgar Oliver was the first reeve of Oak Bay, and that his home, ‘Bongate’, was a seven-acre property that stood where the Oak Bay Hotel stands now. He was born in Edinburgh in 1867, married Mary Eleanor Ward Oliver, and died at Lake Cowichan in 1920. Photographs of the house show an imposing, square brick construction on an outcropping of granite, circled by gnarled Garry oaks. The building, dark and vaguely sinister, sits under a heavy winter sky. It appears very cold, grey and dismal…at least in the pictures I found.
Lost? Stolen? Or did the dog flee in terror from such a spooky domicile?
Look, I know I’m interpreting a lot from a few pictures, but it’s hard not to feel poetic when you’re faced with black-and-white photographs or hand-written letters. I get emotional with old documents. Whose fingers gripped the fountain pen that wrote this police report in lovely script? Did the writer care about the dog, the reward, or the outcome? Or was this just one more complaint to add to the ledger?
I think it’s safe to assume, the terrier was cherished by its owner, because according to the Bank of Canada, a reward of $25 at that time would equal $700 today. In the photos of Bongate at the City of Victoria Archive, there’s a little girl wearing a pale sweater, and I think someone who loved her knitted that jumper; you can see it in the thoughtful stitches and neat cuffs. The girl seems stoic, cautiously happy, and well-bundled against the constant sea wind. I can’t help wondering if Bran was her dog. Did she and Bran ramble over these boulders together, exploring the beach and the woods?
Were they ever re-united?
ANYHOO, on that wistful note, I’m going to dive back into my research, where I’m sure to be swept away even further by my fanciful notions and cogitations. If I discover any updates on the fate of the terrier Bran, I’ll let you know at the launch party on Saturday!
May Updates:
We have three audiobooks! Truly the Devil’s Work, The Vengeful Dead, and The Sea Will Have are available for your listening pleasure on Audible and Apple Books.
Also, if you're interested in buying my books online but don’t want to go through a very-large-online-store-who-shall-remain-unnamed, you can now order my novels through Indigo/Chapters! Hurray!
I’ll be performing at the Parksville Storyteller Festival on Saturday, June 20, talking about circus history, crime, and Vancouver Island in the 1920s. My event is by donation, so I hope you’ll come out and support the museum. I might bring my ukulele, but I haven’t decided if I’m brave enough to sing yet.
Lastly, if you’re looking for short stories to read this summer, the anthology Cascadian Gothic has just been released, and it’s full of fascinating tales from ten BC writers. I’ll also have copies on my market tables this summer for direct sales. Enjoy!
