Today I’m participating in First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros, hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea, in which bloggers share a bit about a book they’re reading or planning to read soon.
Today’s excerpt comes from my first finished read of April! Hoooray!
A Buss from Lafayette is a historical fiction book that heavily focuses on the American Revolution and the Frenchman – known as the National Guest in the States – General Lafayette. It is set in June 1825. The story is told from the point of view of 14-year-old Clara Hargraves from New Hampshire. She is struggling with some major changes in her life (like her spinster smarmy schoolteacher aunt now being her stepmother – and pregnant!). As if that is not betrayal enough, now “Prissy Priscilla” is trying to conform Clara into a proper young lady – no more wearing her brother’s breeches, no more riding like a man, no more swimming in the pond. To make matters even worse, Clara has red hair and becomes the target of teasing. With General Lafayette visiting for his farewell tour, Clara learns many things and hears many stories about this great man who saved America.
The chapters in this book are grouped together by the happenings of each day in the final week of June 1825, so below is the first chapter of Clara’s journal entry followed by the first pragraph of the first chapter.
Tuesday, June 21, 1825
I, Clara Summer Hargraves, of Gould Hill, in the Township of Hopkinton, in the State of New Hampshire, in the United States of America, in the Western Hemisphere, in the World, and in the Universe, do hereby take up my quill (well, pencil, as I am writing this by the pond so I can cool my feet in the water on this hot day) to keep a
truthful mostly faithful account of my life from today forward.
I sprinted through the woods to the house, skittering to a stop in the hall by the dining room. That was where we always ate our evening supper, as Prissy preferred its “elegance.” The pale green walls, white painted cornices, and corner cupboards could be called elegant, I thought, but when Mother was alive, “elegance” was not necessary for us to enjoy our food and each other’s company. Indeed, we took nearly all our family meals in the less-than-elegant kitchen.
Would you keep reading? Are you a historical fiction fan?