Why I Love Alaska

As of late, my local RWA chapter has been blogging about all things Alaskan. I’m not a well-seasoned or elegant blogger, my sisters are much better at it. But after careful consideration, I’ve decided to share what I love most about this enchanting state.

There’s so much…

Of course, I love the fact that most of the important accomplishments in my adult life occurred here; my wedding, college/graduation, my first house, my career as an environmental scientist, and the publication of my first novel.

 

Although these are all blessed events, I found something even more valuable within the boundaries of this vast playground— a real home.

I’ve lived in six other states (Pennsylvania, Texas, Colorado, Maine, New Hampshire, and Delaware).

None of them compare.

 There’s something magical about the fresh air, ice cold water (from the tap), seeing snowcapped peaks every day, eagles overhead, moose stripping bark off my front yard birch trees, the seemingly endless days/nights, a crackling fire in my fireplace on a frosty evening, Christmas, the first snow, the first warm day in summer, eating a reindeer dog in downtown Anchorage, a hockey game, flipping through all the cable channels with reality shows focused on Alaska and grinning because I live here, all the wonderfully tiny villages and towns I’ve visited (reachable only by plane), salmon and halibut, humpback whales surfacing in the water only a few yards away from me, a carriage ride downtown in the dead of winter, getting to wear boots and jeans to work every day and having it considered fashionable, four-wheeling to the edge of a glacier, hunting, fishing, hiking, men (very handsome), the cultural experiences I’ve had, and most of all—just being here.

That’s it.

 Alaska isn’t for everyone. It’s a hard place to thrive if you’re opposed to dark cold winters.

However, if you’re one of the lucky few to call it home, you know what I mean—its paradise.

--- Violetta Rand

Why are readers drawn to historical works?

Many reasons exist for why readers are hopelessly attracted to historical fiction. Getting back to the basics—our roots—seems to be the most common.

What inspired our ancestors to emigrate or how did family traditions begin? Where did I get brown eyes and curly hair? Why did my great grandmother celebrate Celtic holidays or speak French fluently?

These are questions my friends have asked. With a little research, they found answers. But who wants the journey to end there?

Hundreds of history books exist. Wonderful resources we can use to piece together the places and people we’re intimately connected to.

As a person with a restless mind, I always craved more than straight facts. I wanted to see the events through the lens of the people who experienced history first-hand. Historical fiction provides endless opportunities for readers to live in those fantastical moments. Is there anything more exciting?

Pick a century or culture. Follow the events of a birth of a nation or religion. Taste the foods and wear the costumes. Fight the wars or dream their dreams.

I ‘m never satisfied with a linear link. The possibilities in historical works are endless. After all, is historical fiction really that far from the truth?

I think technology and modern thinking has stripped us of some of the values we miss most. In historicals, we’re able to catch glimpses. I’m not saying modern-day heroes don’t exist. But there’s something extraordinary about an 11^th century Viking avenging the death of his kinsman or presiding over criminal/civil cases in his court.

It’s a mixed up world out there. I prefer the clarity of the past. Call me a dreamer, but I know I’m not alone. That’s what inspired me to read, and now write, historical fiction. There’s magic on those pages, and valuable lessons to be learned.

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it… George Santayana.

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