A Very Long Nose

Sniffing Out My Novel's Setting

Friends,

Whether you rode horse from Rainy Pass or took the up-lake route, those of you who have been to Stehekin in Washington’s North Cascades understand that reaching that village requires commitment. We knew this when we caught the Lady Liberty out of Chelan (a real town with roads and a Safeway) and surrendered ourselves to fifty-plus miles of lake.

Lake, however, is too modest a word. Bring it on, Norwegian fjords. Central Washington’s Lake Chelan rivals the best of you. Glacier-carved and 1,486 feet at its deepest, the icy water is flanked by canyon slopes that can funnel wind into something personal and mean. And when that corridor decides to howl, there’s almost nowhere to hide.

The few wilderness campers our boat picked up en route knew about those winds. Wildland fire cache bags and structure protection kits, pre-positioned by the Forest Service at their remote landing, reminded them (and us) that when a wind-driven blaze rips up the lakeside slopes, it’s the real deal.

June 2024’s Pioneer Fire burned 37,000 acres of this canyon. We passed the scars.

We also passed the barge that hauls large freight and equipment to Stehekin weekly. Tiny Stehekin, population roughly 85, has no road in or out. Yes, it’s that sort of place.

Given its isolation, when we arrived we weren’t surprised to find that after winter washouts, Stehekin’s village proper was all but shut down. So with only three hours before our return trip, we quickly headed up-valley between late-thawing peaks, where falls drenched us in cold mist

. . . and an 1889 schoolhouse transported us to a simpler time. Fifteen minutes inside those log walls and I was ten again, drowsy after lunch at my desk near the school’s woodstove as snowflakes ticked wavy-glassed panes like moths.

But the Buckner Orchard is where I lost track of time entirely.

On this 160-acre homestead, Harry and Olive Buckner raised three girls during years that overlap those of my new WIP (work-in-progress).

Their original 1889 cabin, flanked by the Stehekin River and updated through the early 1900s, remains remarkably intact.

As do the pump house, chicken brooder, and sheds.

In one, I found a hand-cranked apple scratter bolted to a wooden frame. Canvas apple bags hung from a wall like school-kids’ backpacks.

I couldn’t have hoped for more. The place was downright flush with inspiration for my novel’s 1919 homestead.

So . . . I stuck the long nose of my camera lens into every scene and snapped dozens of shots—to capture the specifics and, hopefully, the echoing essence and emotions.

This is the research I love best, and that I’ll revisit when I’m home again and writing and want to inhale the glacier-fed river and sun-heated forest duff. The woodsmoke. The baking bread. The longings and joys.

I’ll drink these photos, not just intellectually, but physically, spiritually and emotionally, before I turn them into scenes—of how a blooming teen could chafe at her seclusion and ache for her unknown future.

Of how a mother may have felt when she looked out at her garden, her children, her trees, and the man with whom she’d pledged to tend them. How she’d grapple with what she could not, would not tell him.

And what she would.

Those are the sorts of details I’ll transplant into my fictional San Juan Island homestead 150 miles to the west-northwest. Sensory info. Felt scenes. The weight of door latch against thumb, and the hitch of breath about what she’ll find on the other side.

The angle of light through a small-paned window as her baby laughs—or whimpers with fever she can’t arrest.

The scent of ripening fruit, and the distance her man’s voice carries as he picks those apples deep in the orchard.

Her panic when a fox goes missing, or when the man who has hunted her down the coast . . . never mind. That’s a twist for later.

All more bones for my setting and story. In coming weeks, I’ll weigh which ones will break and which ones won’t.

***

Which brings me to something new.

You have asked for my photography for years. So I’ve finally done what I probably should have done sooner: I’ve made high-resolution links to my PNW nature work available to paid subscribers. Sized for Art TVs and large-format printing, they—along with field notes, novel excerpts, and closer looks at my works in progress—come with an upgraded subscription.

Before I’d even written this post to tell you that those new subscription options had gone live, one of you found them and signed up for a full year. That stopped me cold—then flooded me with encouragement. Thank you.

If you’re curious, there’s a button below. Monthly, annual, or—if you want a signed set of all three of my novels plus first copies of what’s coming—the Field Patron tier. The annual plan runs $5.83 a month. The free tier stays free, always.

No pressure. But I hope you’ll like it.

***

📙 Now, FROM MY BOOKERY, a WINNER and a NEW GIVEAWAY!

Congratulations to you, Samantha Dorne! You won the May giveaway of Leif Enger’s Peace Like a River! Please reply with your postal address, and I’ll send the book right off to you.

📣 And there’s THIS! The NEW JUNE GIVEAWAY—but it only lasts FOUR MORE DAYS.

SINCE IT ENDS ON JUNE 10, best to ENTER NOW.

Here’s the gist:

It’s a SUMMER ESCAPE GIVEAWAY!

One winner will receive EIGHT amazing new novels, PLUS a stylish getaway bag! Books are author-signed physical copies of these recent releases from eight of us Pacific Northwest authors:

The Lost Story of Via Belle, by Melanie Dobson

Bookmarked for Love, by Sarah Monzon

The Color of Home, by Kit Tosello

A Scattering of Light, by Lori Benton

All Booked Up, by Melody Carlson

Through Water and Stone, by Karen Barnett

Claire Holloway Is Winging It, by Angela Ruth Strong

What the River Keeps, by Cheryl Grey Bostrom

PLUS a canvas-and-leather getaway tote (retail value $54)

ELIGIBILITY:

-Entrants are U.S. residents

-Entrants are age 18+ or have permission from a legal guardian

-Entrants consent to have their email addresses added to participating authors’ newsletter mailing lists. Your information will never be shared outside this group and you’re welcome to unsubscribe at any time.

→→→CONTEST ENDS: June 10, 2026←←←

Click HERE to enter. (You’ll also need to acknowledge the confirmation email that will come your way, so if you don’t see it, check your spam.)

BTW . . . Since What the River Keeps is included in this giveaway, I thought I'd share the most recent news about the novel—in hopes you’ll read the story whether you win it or not.

This last month smiled on the book above and beyond.

All such good news for the book. I’m hugely grateful to everyone who gave this story a chance, to those who brought it into the world, and to those who gave it such generous support.

***

How about your summer plans? I’d love to hear. If they include forests, I hope you’ll take the following to heart. One way or another, it’ll be good for your soul. :)

Love,

Cheryl