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Although the Demontange Saga is fiction, St. Lucia is a real place with a wonderful story of its own. We are psychotherapists with an intimate knowledge of psychological processes and motivations. The columns in this section provide insight into the settings, culture and characters in our works as well as perceptions about the writing process... We want to share this material and our perceptions with other authors but believe that many of our readers will find these columns of interest as well.
Recently we took back all our rights to A Dream Across Time and are now self publishing the Demontagne Saga. It is very gratifying to have the entire publishing process under our control.
If you would like to see what we have been up to and to see some of what we are dealing with as we move to self publish, go to our blog at http://letmedigress.blogspot.com. We want it to be interactive so join in. The columns from the Author to Author section will also appear in the blog.
At the end of the latest column, you'll find clicks for past columns.
Column 16
The Bridge
If you haven’t read the first book in the Demontagne saga, A Dream Across Time, then you need to rush right out and buy it. Otherwise this column won’t make a lot of sense to you. In A Dream Across Time we followed the adventures of Jamie Elliott as she bravely fought her way through to a new love and found her destiny with Andre Demontagne.
In what we call The Bridge we are updating the readers concerning Jamie’s new life in the period between A Dream Across Time and the next book, A Circle of Dreams, which comes out in June. You will now see how Jamie’s life has developed and will be introduced to two of her children. Pay particular attention to Yvie. You will see evidence of her character and be hearing a lot more about her.
The deep verandah, shaded from the mid-day sun, beckoned. Jamie Demontagne plopped into her favorite cushioned rocking chair and gently pushed off with her toes. The movement startled a tiny iridescent hummingbird from a nearby jasmine blossom and it swiftly zigzagged away. Jamie took a deep breath, the scent of jasmine soothed her as she sank into the deep cushions. She gazed across the garden to the old Jumeaux estate house. Her husband’s father, Auguste, had lived there until recently when he rejoined his wife, Clarisse, in Castries. A healing in her new family after years of secrets.
The deep verandah, shaded from the mid-day sun, beckoned. Jamie Demontagne plopped into her favorite cushioned rocking chair and gently pushed off with her toes. The movement startled a tiny iridescent hummingbird from a nearby jasmine blossom and it swiftly zigzagged away. Jamie took a deep breath, the scent of jasmine soothed her as she sank into the deep cushions. She gazed across the garden to the old Jumeaux estate house. Her husband’s father, Auguste, had lived there until recently when he rejoined his wife, Clarisse, in Castries. A healing in her new family after years of secrets. Jamie often thought back to the inexperienced young woman she had been when she first arrived on St. Lucia. There had been so many changes in her life since that first day.
Her large, extended St. Lucian family was everything she had ever wished for. She loved being a wife and a mother. Tonight she would tell Andre she was pregnant again. It was something they had hoped for. The only shadow was that Andre’s business commitments took him away from his family. He was busy with the new hotel. Ecologically innovative, the unusual nature of the hotel rooms with open walls, built to accommodate the terrain, even trees on the site, meant that the hotel was frequently featured in travel magazines and operated at almost full occupancy. And when he wasn’t at the hotel, Andre was in New York or jetting off to some Caricom meeting.
Both Andre and Jamie sat on the board of directors which oversaw the operations and strategic planning for St. Lucia’s Island Heritage Center. Bertille and Marcus Deroche’s son, Jack, was the Executive Director of the Heritage Center and he and Angel and their son, Marc, lived nearby.
Jack and other anthropologists studying the cave system and the ancestor’s songs made sure that no scrap of Bertille’s and Marcus’ knowledge went unrecorded. The Heritage Center had developed a curriculum based on an accurate history of the contributions of the various peoples of the island and this curriculum was now included in all grades through secondary school, a noticeable increase in island pride the result.
Emile, Andre’s brother, was now off island more often than on island, leaving Marcus to manage the estate. Jamie often thought it a shame Emile had not married but she had not given up hope he might someday make her an aunt. Clarisse, younger than her husband by many years, was still healthy and actively pursuing her first love, preserving the island’s historic homes and furnishings when she wasn’t spoiling her grandchildren.
Jamie heard childish giggles coming toward her. She turned, but before she could stand a lithe little body was attached to each of her legs. Her housekeeper, Delia, stood in the doorway, a chagrined look on her face. The gold hoops at her ears swayed as she shook her head.
“Sorry, mistress. I tried to give you some time to relax,” she said.
“It’s all right, Delia,” Jamie said. “If you’ll wait a couple of minutes, I’ll send them back to you for lunch.”
“My mama,” pouted one dark-headed moppet who was carrying a large photograph album.
“No, my mama,” retorted the other, pushing her sister away and onto the floor.
At almost four the fraternal twin girls were the same height but Yvie had auburn hair in tight ringlets while Lissa had dark straight hair like her mother’s. Their faces were very similar but Jamie thought that Yvie resembled her more, while Lissa favored her father.
“I belong to both of you,” Jamie said, helping Lissa back to her feet. “Yvie, it’s not nice to push your sister.”
“I don’t like her. I wish you’d give her back.” Dark, curly hair quivered as Yvie stamped her foot.
“Yvie, I love you both. You both came at the same time.”
“No, that’s not the story, Mama. Tell the story the right way,” ordered Yvie, climbing onto her lap, the album in tow.
Jamie held up one finger to Delia. There’s room on my lap for you both. I’ll show you the pictures and tell you the story of how you came to be princesses.”
“Tell the story, now!” Yvie commanded, snuggling into her mother’s side. Jamie wondered anew if the gene for Yvie’s imperious nature had been passed down from her paternal grandmother, Clarisse Demontagne. Her other daughter, quiet and empathic was more like Jamie, although Lissa, at four, had a mystical streak that reminded Jamie of Bertille Deroche, not a blood relative, but a beloved adopted grandparent.
“The King and the Queen were going to have a baby,” Jamie began, opening the photograph album in the middle to a picture of their house. Built shortly after she and Andre were married, the sprawling two story house with wide verandahs was located behind and slightly above the old estate house where Marcus and Bertille Deroche now resided. It was just a short walk across the garden from the new house to the old.
“No, Mama, that’s not the way it starts,” interrupted Lissa.
Jamie started again. “Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a king and a queen who were going to have a baby. They made a nursery for the new baby and the Queen painted clouds on the ceiling.” She pointed to a picture of the twin’s nursery, furnished with an old mahogany crib and an oak rocker. “The crib was the same one the king had slept in when he was a baby.”
“Don’t forget the chest of drawers,” ordered Yvie.“And a chest of drawers,” Jamie amended. “When it was time for the baby to be born the King and Queen were surprised when two babies came instead of just one.” Jamie turned the page to show pictures of her newborn daughters. “The King and Queen were very happy and brought the princesses home. There wasn’t time to get another crib but because they were so small both princesses fit in one crib. When it was time for their naps, the Queen would put the babies in the crib to sleep. She would put one princess on one end and the other princess on the other end but every time she went to check the princesses had scrooched themselves to the middle of the crib and were sleeping right next to each other.” Jamie turned more album pages and pointed at pictures while telling the story which her daughters never tired of hearing.
“We scrooch together because we, I mean the princesses, are twins,” said Yvie.
Past Columns
Column 1 - St. Lucia
Column 2 - Jamie Elliott
Column 3 - Andre Demontagne
Column 4 - Paul and Danielle
Column 5 - Marcus Deroche
Column 6 - Bertille Deroche
Column 7 - What It's Like Living in the Tropics, Part 1
Column 8 - What It's Like Living in the Tropics, Part 2
Column 9 - Taylor, Clarisse and Barbara
Column 10 - How Does Our Writing Partnership Work?
Column 11 - Goal, Motivation, Conflict and Creativity
Column 12 - Family Life is a Saga
Column 13 - Toward A Circle of Dreams; I don't believe in ghosts.
Column 14 - A Book Walked in the Door
Column 15 - Every Woman Knows This Story
Column 16 - The Bridge
Column 17 - Why the Mystical Element in A Dream Across Time?
Column 18 - Gaia and myth in the Demontagne Saga
Column 19 - Carl Jung, Mythology and the Demontagne Saga
Column 20 - Carl Jung's Concepts in the Demontagne Saga
Column 21 - Martinique
Column 22 – Janine-Yvette Demontange (Yvie)
Column 23 – Anne-Clarisse Demontagne (Lissa)
Column 24 - Philippe Diamant Demontagne (Philippe)
Copyright© 1987-2006 Annie Rogers LLC dba Bivens and Jensen Publishing. All rights reserved |
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