# Magnificent Seven fanfic!



## JoBlueQuarter

*A Daughter for a Southern Gambler: Chapter 2*

"Why, Ezra? I didn't know you were a daddy." Buck clapped him on his back, good-naturedly.
"Ah assure you, Mistah Wilmington, Ah had no uh-dea either." Ezra got up slowly.
"Well, I'm happy to see he's talking normal again. I was about to check him for a fever." Nathan confided to Chris.
"I see why you would think that necessary," Chris answered, looking back and forth between the two people. Except for the clear green eyes and brown hair, the girl bore little resemblance to Ezra.
Vin, seeing that the gambler for once was speechless, decided to take matters into his own hands. He knelt down so that he was the girl's height, and held out his hand. "I'm Vin. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Standish." He shook her little hand, then started introducing his friends one by one. "This is Josiah."
"Howdy." The big man smiled at her.
"And Buck."
"It's nice to meet you, Pumpkin!" Buck winked at her as he tweaked her nose.
"And this is Nathan. He's a healer."
"You mean, like a doctor?" Clementine asked.
"Almost. I heal people, but I don't have any medical training." Nathan explained.
Clementine nodded her understanding, and Vin moved on to Chris.
"And this is Chris." Vin leaned in to tell her in a stage whisper, "He looks scary, but he's actually very nice."
Clementine grinned and swept back an imaginary duster. "Reach for your guns." She commanded in a deep meant-to-be-scary-but-turned-out-adorable voice.
"Nice to meet you too, Clementine." He smiled.
"But you have to draw your guns," Clementine argued.
"But I fear you are a lot faster than I am, so I shall surrender."
"Well, okay." Clementine agreed. "Who is he?" She asked, pointing at Ezra.
Ezra crouched in front of her again, and said, "Mah name is Ezra Standish. I am very happy to make your acquaintance."
"You're mah daddy?" Clementine asked in childish surprise. "But, you don't look like a daddy."
"Well, Ah guess Ah shall have to change that post haste." Ezra smiled at her.
"What does post haste mean?" Clementine asked.
"Posthaste means quickly," Ezra explained.
The little girl nodded slowly, then yawned and leaned against Ezra tiredly.
Ezra picked her up gently and carried the already almost asleep girl into the almost-empty saloon.
Inez looked immensely surprised when the southern gambler entered the saloon carrying a little girl.
"Ah shall explain later," Ezra spoke softly to Inez, then turned, and carefully carried Clementine up the stairs.
He laid her on a bed in one of the rooms, and softly pulled the covers over her. She was already asleep, by this time, so Ezra closed the shades and went back downstairs.
The others were either leaning against the bar or sitting around the tables when he came back downstairs. He could guess what the others were most likely thinking. Chris would be thinking about Adam and Sarah, Josiah would be thinking on the evils of men, or in this case, woman, and Buck would be hoping that Chris was OK, and wondering if Ezra might have been a ladies-man in his time. Nathan was probably thinking about how whoever the mother was, could have kept Ezra's daughter from him, Vin who had bonded with Ezra more than the rest would be a little confused about why Ezra had never mentioned anyone special in his life, and JD was probably confused by all the different emotions the other men displayed.
And Inez, who had been filled in a little by JD, was most likely wondering how a shrewd, usually cold man like Ezra could have such a lovely daughter.
"Whiskey." Was all he said to Inez. She gave him a full bottle and a glass, and he sat down at a table.
"I thought I'd be the one with a couple kids I never knew I had." Buck joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit. JD was the only one who cracked a grin, though.
"She sure is pretty," Nathan noted after a pause.
"Yes sir, she looks exactly like her mothah." Ezra filled the glass and emptied it in one swig.
"And who is her mother?" Chris asked in his quiet way.
"Anastasia Caroline Archibald." Ezra stared at his glass. "The*phenomenal*Anastasia Caroline Archibald, actress and singer, extraordinaire." He said, almost mockingly. "Beautiful on the outside, greedy as hell on the inside." Ezra took a drink straight from the bottle. "We were gonna get married. "Didn't work out. Ah know now that all she ever wanted was mah money." He took another drink. "She left, and until this day, Ah never even knew Ah had a daughter."
"Anastasia Archibald. I've heard of her." Josiah said.
"Who hasn't?" Ezra said sarcastically.
"I haven't." JD offered.
"That was a rhetorical question, Mistah Dunne."
"Oh," JD said, although he obviously had no idea what rhetorical meant.
"Well, what are you gonna do with her?" Chris asked.
"Well, there is only one thing that can be done," Ezra said.
"And that is..."
"Mistah Larabee. Are you insinuating that Ah would do to mah daughter what mah mothah did to me?" Ezra asked, sounding just a little hurt.
Chris sighed. This guy sure was pretty easy to infuriate. "Nope. I'm not insinuating anything, Ez."
Ezra relaxed a little. "There is, of course, no way Ah can send her back to that despicable woman, and mah daughter is not going to an orphanage or the nearest relative's house." He said sarcastically.
Then Nathan spoke up, a little hesitantly. "It's just, are you sure you're capable of raising a kid by yourself, Ezra?"
Ezra almost snapped at him, before he realized that his friend did have a point. "Well, Ah shall certainly do mah best. And there's Mary."
Chris started to say something, but Ezra stopped him.
"Billy is Clementine's age, and Mary knows about raising kids, that's all," Ezra explained.
"Yeah, you're right," Chris said in a slightly apologetic voice. "This is a hard thing to be forced on a child Clementine's age; a mother that doesn't love her, and a father she never met, in a town she's never been to. I'm sure everybody'll help make her feel at home."
Everybody nodded, and Ezra smiled gratefully. "Thanks, boys."
All of a sudden a shot rang out, and the peacemakers got out of the building just in time to see a man with a handkerchief over his face, riding a black horse, gallop out of town. Looking around, Chris spotted the banker shooting at the bank robber's retreating back. "Bank robber!" Chris yelled to his friends and leapt onto his horse's back. The others horses were also tied close to the saloon, so it didn't take the seven of them long to get after the bank robber.
They followed his tracks until they came to rocky terrain. Here they couldn't make out tracks anymore, so they slowed down to rethink the situation. Vin quickly pulled out his spyglass and searched the rocky country for the man they were chasing. He was about to give up when a couple sharp neighs broke through the stillness. All Seven took off towards where the frantic calls were coming from. Once they got close they split up, so as to circle the spot.
Then they cautiously closed in. Behind a big rock, they found the unconscious man and his horse who looked like he'd broken a leg.
Nathan quickly checked over the man, who surprisingly was only bruised, before confirming that the horse didn't stand much chance.
Ezra crouched beside the black horse, and rubbed his neck, comfortingly. Then he reached into his pocket, and pulled out some of Chaucer's jelly beans, and fed the horse a couple. He got up slowly and went to help the others tie the man over Vin's saddle, leaving Buck to do what had to be done with the horse. The shot echoed grimly among the rocks, dying slowly.
After the man was securely fastened to the saddle, Vin got up behind him.
"You good, Vin?" Chris asked.
"Yep, figure we'll both stay on." Vin cracked a grin.
Chris nodded, and he and the others mounted their own horses and headed back to town.
The ride was a quiet one, with Ezra thinking hard about Clementine.
When they got back to town, JD, Vin, and Nathan took the prisoner to the jail, while Josiah and Chris went in search of the banker and a couple of witnesses, and Ezra went back to the saloon to check on his daughter.
"Is Clementine still sleeping?" Ezra asked Inez.
"Yes, she is. Poor thing is awfully tired." Inez said. "Why don't you go rest a bit? Looks like you could use some."
"Well, Ah don't know. She doesn't know you, and might be frightened if she wakes up alone."
"Oh, go on, papá Ezra." Inez laughed, before turning to hand a customer a mug of beer.
Ezra shook his head and sighed. "Ah suppose she has a point," Ezra muttered to himself as he left the saloon, and walked to the livery.
There he found Chaucer, out in a corral with Peso. He sat down, leaning his back against the fence, and thought. Last time he'd seen Ana was through the bars of a jail cell. He'd ended up there for cheating; cheating because Ana always wanted more money, and he was to head over heels to say no. Of course, when she'd found out that he was cleared out, she'd left. She hadn't even bailed him out before leaving. Thinking about that day still made Ezra angry; angry at Ana of course, but also angry at himself for letting himself be used like that. The first few weeks after she left were the worst. Before his mother helped him out of jail, he'd had way too much time to think. Thinking about it had nearly driven him crazy, and when he finally got out, all he could do was gamble, drink away the money, and repeat the process over and over again. He'd finally realized that Ana wasn't worth all that, and decided not to let her pull him down. He'd stopped drinking, and gotten a job at a ranch, doing menial labour. That's where he met and trained Chaucer and later excepted him instead of a weeks pay.
Ezra had tried his best to settle down a bit, but he finally had to get back on the road again. He quit his job and started moving from town to town. Then he met his six brothers and stayed in one place longer than he'd ever done before.
He was happy with his life; there was a good saloon where he could always find a game, he was free to move on if he ever got the urge to, and – what clinched the deal – for the first time in his life, he had friends. Not just acquaintances, or relatives, or people he got along with. These guys were friends!
Chaucer stepped over and nibbled on his owner's coat, worriedly. Ezra grinned and reached up to pet the beautiful chestnut's nose. "How could Ah forget; Ah also have you!"


----------



## JoBlueQuarter

*A Daughter for a Southern Gambler: Chapter 3*

"Chris." Vin stepped into the barn.
"Yeah?" Chris looked up from brushing Pony's sleek coat.
"You*seen*Ezra?" Vin asked, stepping into the stall.
"I saw him ride out, about half an hour ago," Chris said. "Something wrong?"
"No, just wanted to talk to him," Vin said. "Thanks."
He started to leave, but Chris stopped him. "Did he ever mention her to you?"
Vin turned around slowly. "No, can't say he did."
Chris nodded and didn't have to voice his thoughts for Vin to know what was going through his head. Vin had also thought that they were close enough to talk about things like that, but Ezra was obviously not as comfortable around them as it seemed. Vin tipped his hat and stepped out of the barn to the hitching rail where Peso was tied. He swung up on the black horse's back and rode on out of town.
He knew where Ezra's favourite spot was, so it didn't take Vin long to find him sitting, as expected, with his back against a tree, lazily skipping rocks in the river.
"Hello, Vin." Ezra greeted him, without turning his head to look at him.
Vin relaxed a little at the familiar greeting, instead of the usual 'Mistah Tanner', and ground tied Peso before sitting down beside Ezra, asked. "How'd you know it was me?"
"The way Peso moves," Ezra said, still not looking at Vin.
"Nice." They sat for a minute in silence, then Vin threw a stone into the water, and watched the water ripple. "What kind of a woman would keep a child from the kid's father." Vin's comment was more of a statement than a question.
"That kind." Ezra's answer was angry, but Vin could detect a trace of hurt in his voice, which told him that even after seven years, the Southern gambler still wasn't over Anastasia.
"Well, jokes on her. Clementine seems to be a very sweet girl." Vin said, trying to make his friend feel better.
"But how could Ana do that? Ah thought she was so charming and – nice." Ezra said in a dejected voice.
Vin put his hand on Ezra's shoulder, and they sat together in silence for a minute.
"Is Clementine awake yet?" Ezra asked after a while.
"Last I heard, she was still sleeping," Vin answered. "But that was a while ago."
"Then let's get back to town.*Ah*have some business to attend to."
Vin nodded and got up with Ezra. They got on their horses and rode back to town in companionable silence.
*<><><>M7<><><>*
"Nobody seems to know about her." The man in the business suit who had been on the noon stage said grimly. His hair was perfectly slicked back from his clean-shaven face, and his clothes were spotless, giving him the appearance of a well-to-do city boy.
His burly, hairy-faced companion, leaning against the bar beside him, drained his glass and wiped a dirty sleeve over his mouth. "You sure this is the place, Frank?"
"She was on the stage in, so unless they got her out on the next one she has to still be in town." The man addressed as Frank called for another whiskey.
"Well, when I get my hands on her, she's gonna pay for making us chase her all the way here!"
"Keep your voice down, Jim," Frank growled through his teeth. "What's got you so on edge, anyway?"
"I just don't like this town. I hear its protected by seven gunslingers."
"This town?" Frank asked in surprise. "I thought the place was farther North."
"In your dreams," Jim mumbled.
"Is that so." Frank mused, an evil smile tugging at his mouth. "The famous Chris Larabee. That sweetens the deal a bit, don't you think?"


----------



## JoBlueQuarter

*A Daughter for a Southern Gambler: Chapter 4*

Clementine drowsily rubbed her eyes and looked around the room. She'd just woken up and was having trouble placing where she was. Then all the events of the last couple of days came flooding back. She remembered how the bad man who had a big beard and was really dirty had threatened her mommy, and how mommy had told him to give her a little time, that she'd come up with the money. Clementine was hiding in the closet, so nobody knew she was listening. The next day, her mother put her on the stage and paid the stage driver to make sure she got to Four Corners. She looked so pale and scared. Thinking about her mommy made Clementine's eyes tear up, and all the scrubbing of little fists didn't make them go away. She finally gave up, and collapsed in sobs, crying into her pillow.
Ezra, coming up the stairs, heard the sobs, and ran to her room. The sight that greeted him made his*heart break. He hurried to Clementine's side, wondering what could have upset the little girl so much.
"Clementine.*What ever*is the mattah?"
Clementine lifted her head from the pillow, tears streaming down her face, and crawled onto Ezra's lap. He embraced the little girl and let her cry herself out against his shoulder.
"What's wrong, baby?" Ezra asked worriedly when Clementine's sobs slowly started to subside.
"Mo-mommy." Clementine got out between sobs.
"What's wrong with your mommy?" Ezra asked.
"The man – he's going to hurt her.*Ah*want to go back to her. She needs me." Clementine looked up at Ezra with pleading eyes.
Mind reeling, Ezra hugged her close again. "I'll take care of it. It's OK."
Ezra waited until the tears started to subside, then pulled out a silk handkerchief and used it to wipe her tears away and blow her nose. The tears had stopped, but Clementine was still anxious about getting back to her mother.
Ezra took Clementine's hand and walked down the stairs with her. Some of the hombres drinking and playing looked at the little girl in surprise, but most of them were too engrossed in their games or just too drunk to notice.
Ezra looked around, almost frantically, and was very relieved to see Mary Travis walking past on the street. He carried Clementine past all the drunken gamblers and stepped onto the street.
"Mrs.*Travis?"
Mary turned to see who had called her name and smiled when she saw Ezra and Clementine. "Hello, Ezra."
"Hello, Mary." Ezra put Clementine down. "Uh, Clementine, this is*Mrs.*Mary Travis.*Mrs.*Travis is a very good friend of mine. Mary, mah daughter Clementine."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Clementine." Mary squeezed the girl's hand and smiled down at her warmly. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Mary, would you happen to have some time? Clementine hasn't seen the town yet, and who could show her around better than the local columnist?" Ezra asked hopefully.
"It would be my pleasure!" Mary assured him.
"Wonderful!*Ah*have some things to attend to, Clementine.*Mrs.*Travis is going to show you around town, alright?"
Clementine nodded, and Ezra smiled at her, relieved. "Good. I'll see*you ladies*later then." He tipped his hat to them and strode off towards the telegraph office. He found the telegrapher fast asleep with his head on the desk inside the window.
"Mistah Stewart?" Ezra shook his shoulder to wake him up.
The man's head came up and he looked around frantically, trying to gather his thoughts. "I, uh, yes.*Mr.*Standish. Uh, how can I help you?"
"Ah need to send a telegraph to Albuquerque."
"Of course."*Mr.*Stewart said, trying very hard to look as if he was totally awake and in control of the situation. He pushed a piece of paper through the window for Ezra to write his message on.
"A pen would be useful right now." Said Ezra, a little annoyed at the incompetent telegrapher.
"Oh, yes, of course." Stewart quickly handed the gambler a pen.
Ezra immediately started writing the telegram.
Albuquerque, New Mexico
Sheriff Jenkins
Can you give me information regarding Anastasia Archibald*Stop*Her daughter Clementine Standish in Four Corners*Stop*Distressed about her mother*Stop
Ezra Standish
Ezra handed the telegram back to Stewart and watched as the man clicked away.
"Do you want to wait for an answer?" Stewart asked, collecting the fee.
"No, Ah will come around again later." Ezra tipped his hat and left.
Next, Ezra walked over to the boarding house, where he rented two rooms, for himself and Clementine. He was just finished with that, when Jordan Davies, a young boy who often ran errands for people around town, ran up to him.
"Mr.*Stewart sent me to give you this telegram." Jordan handed Ezra a piece of paper.
"Thank you, Jordan," Ezra said, quickly opening the folded paper.
All strength seemed to seep out of him as he read the telegram, and he had to lean against a hitching rail to keep from falling to the ground.
Four Corners, New Mexico
Ezra Standish
Anastasia Archibald was killed last night by unidentified burglar*Stop*He got the safe open, but had to get out without the money due to our arrival*Stop*I wasn't aware that she had a daughter; the daughter will have to appear in court once we catch the murderer*Stop*My condolences
Sheriff Jenkins
Ezra felt like somebody had punched him in the stomach as he read the telegram again as if reading it again might somehow change the meaning of the words. All his earlier feelings of hurt and anger towards Ana were quickly replaced by a helluva lot of guilt, sorrow, and, understandably, anger at the man who murdered her. He had thought that Ana sending Clementine across the state unaccompanied had been an act of pure heartlessness, and proved that she didn't even love her own little girl. But now everything began to fall into place, as he realized that Ana's actions had been meant solely to protect their daughter. Ezra's mind was a hopeless jumble of thoughts and worries as he stumbled to the saloon. He grabbed a full bottle of whiskey from the bar and made his way to a table. Sitting there, he read the telegram again and took a long swig out of the bottle.
That's how Chris found him ten minutes later; drinking from the almost empty bottle as he stared at the telegram, totally oblivious to the world around him.
"Ezra." Chris strode over to him, surprised at seeing the man in that condition. "Ezra!"
Ezra took his time looking up, but his eyes finally focused on Chris's face. "Uh, my good friend Mistah Larabee. Join this joyous celebration." Ezra invited sarcastically as he motioned to the chair beside him with his bottle.
Chris, however, stayed standing. "Ezra. What's wrong? What happened? Where's Clementine?"
"Clementine is fine," Ezra assured him, staring at his bottle.
"But what happened?" Chris asked urgently.
Ezra pushed the telegram towards his friend and took another swig from the bottle.
Chris quickly read the telegram, suddenly understanding why Ezra was in the shape he was.
Ezra laughed a hollow laugh – that didn't have amusement as a factor – at Chris's expression.
"I'm really sorry, Ezra," Chris said, putting his hand on Ezra's shoulder comfortingly.
"So am Ah, Chris, so am Ah," Ezra said quietly. He reached for the bottle again, but Chris stopped him.
"Ezra. You can't get drunk right now! Think of Clementine. We have to go after the man."
"Clementine told me something was wrong, Ah should have done something!" Ezra said, shifting the guilt onto his own shoulders.
"Ezra, listen. Anastasia was killed last night, long before Clementine even arrived here! There's no way it was your fault; it's just technically not possible!" Chris said, not wanting the man to believe it was his fault. "Look. You get cleaned up, then go talk to Clementine. She has a right to know. I'm going to contact Sheriff Jenkins, in Albuquerque, for details. Who knows where the man responsible is now. Okay?"
Ezra nodded and got up to go clean himself up as Chris left for the telegraph office. Having washed his face in the water trough outside, he gave himself a couple minutes to collect himself, before going in search of his daughter. He found her with Mary and Billy at the livery, looking at the horses. He took a deep breath and walked up to them.
"Hello, Ezra!" Mary greeted him, smiling.
"Hey, daddy," Clementine said shyly. Billy nodded to the peacemaker and continued grooming Mary's horse.
"Hello, Clementine, Mary, Billy." Ezra took another calming breath. "Mary, can Ah talk to Clementine for a minute?"
"Of course," Mary said quickly, wondering what could be wrong. "Come on Billy, let's go to the Clarion office. We'll see you later, Clementine."
When Mary and Billy had left, Ezra sat down on a pile of hay so that he was eye to eye with his daughter.
"Clementine.*Ah*need to tell you something. Ah telegraphed the sheriff in Albuquerque today to ask about your mother."
Clementine started breathing faster, the carefree expression on her face changing to one of intense worry. "What did he say? Is mommy OK?"
"Clementine." Ezra took a steadying breath to calm his nerves. "Clemmie, your mother... left... last night." Ezra managed to get out. His gift with words had suddenly left him, as he choked on the lump in his throat.
"You mean..." Clementine's face changed from worry to extreme grief. "No! What – how – who?" She gave up trying to find out how it had happened, and threw herself, crying bitterly, into Ezra's arms. "No-oh-oh!" Her cry came out as a wail.
Ezra just hugged her.
She said something muffled, that sounded like, "Ah knew he would come back!"
Ezra's brow furrowed, wondering again who "he" was. "Who did you know would come back?"
"The bad man who threatened Mommy." Clementine sobbed.
"Who threatened your mommy? What did he look like?" Ezra asked, gripping her shoulders, and making her look at him.
"A dirty man with a beard this big," Tears still streaming down her face, she made a big triangle shape under her chin, obviously exaggerating a little. "broke into the house, and threatened mommy. He wanted a lot of money."
"Did your mommy give in to his requests?" Ezra asked, suddenly understanding more of the situation.
"No. He was very angry, but Mommy didn't have it." Clementine explained.
"When did this happen?"
"Three days ago." Clementine sniffed.
"Ah see. Clementine, Ah have to go find my friends so that we can go catch the man who executed this horrendous crime. You can stay with Mary and Billy."
"Ah want to go with you."
"Ah know, but you can't go with us. It's dangerous; you might get hurt." Ezra explained.
"But Ah want to help catch him." Whined Clementine.
"Ah am sorry, but you can't." Ezra got up, taking a shaky breath. "Come on, Ah will bring you to Mary."
Like Ezra expected, Mary wasn't far away. She was talking with Chris, and Ezra didn't doubt for a second that she already knew what was going on.
Mary looked up as soon as she saw Ezra and Clementine. "Oh, Ezra!" She said in her usual warm, comforting way. "I'm so sorry."
"So am Ah, Mary." Ezra was finding talking without breaking down pretty hard, so he didn't embellish his speech as much as he usually would have. "Ah don't want to intrude upon your hospitality, but Ah have to ask if Clementine can stay with you for a while? Ah am going to be pretty busy, and Ah don't want to leave her at the boarding house all by herself."
"Of course, Ezra. I was just about to suggest that. If you can use my assistance in any way, please don't hesitate to ask!" Mary said, as kind and thoughtful as ever.
"Thank you, Mary," Chris said, and Ezra echoed the heartfelt thanks.
As Mary left with Billy and Clementine, Ezra and Chris looked at each other. That one look steadied Ezra, as he realized that with his six brothers helping him, sooner or later they would catch the man.


----------



## JoBlueQuarter

I just noticed that there's * at random places. They're not on purpose, and I'll try to edit them out.


----------



## farmpony84

Hee hee... I had no idea Canadians spoke with a southern drawl~ I like it


----------



## JoBlueQuarter

farmpony84 said:


> Hee hee... I had no idea Canadians spoke with a southern drawl~ I like it


Lol. Clementine is the daughter of a southern gambler. They actually live in Four Corners, New Mexico, so no Canadianism! Lol. Thanks!


----------



## JoBlueQuarter

I'm currently not sure if I should keep updating here, but if y'all do want to follow the story, you'll find the link in the first post.


----------



## knightrider

I didn't realize there were things like novels on here until I started reading Dandelion. Today I read this one up to where I have to click on the link. I am really enjoying it. Good writing! I'm going to click on the link and enjoy the rest of it.


----------



## knightrider

I clicked on the link and read the whole thing . . . but there is no ending. Want to finish it? I would like that.

You asked if you should spell out the southern accent or just mention that he (and his daughter) have one and leave it at that. This is just my opinion, but I think you should spell more of it out, rather than just the few words. Yo'ar, mo'ar, the'ar . I don't know how to spell them, but there could be 3 or 4 southern words in each sentence. JMO

I like your story and characters. You've got lots of adventures and action. Good story. Thanks for sharing!


----------



## JoBlueQuarter

knightrider said:


> I clicked on the link and read the whole thing . . . but there is no ending. Want to finish it? I would like that.
> 
> You asked if you should spell out the southern accent or just mention that he (and his daughter) have one and leave it at that. This is just my opinion, but I think you should spell more of it out, rather than just the few words. Yo'ar, mo'ar, the'ar . I don't know how to spell them, but there could be 3 or 4 southern words in each sentence. JMO
> 
> I like your story and characters. You've got lots of adventures and action. Good story. Thanks for sharing!


Thanks for reading! Yeah, I've kinda hit a block on that one. Good idea with the spelling of the words; I'm just not that educated on southern speak. I'm not sure how long I should make this story. Suggestions?

Thanks again!


----------



## knightrider

You should spend a month in the South and you'd have the Southern accent down pat. You know what's funny is (I guess this is like England too), if you stick around the south for awhile, you can begin to tell the difference between, say Alabama accent, Georgia accent, South Carolina accent. They are all slightly different, as well as Texas, even Maryland has one (as I have been told often, being from Maryland).

As to how long to make it, when you run out of adventures or feel like the story can be wrapped up, then wrap it up--when it kind of naturally falls into place as the ending. Your book is sort of a string of adventures, rather like a serial, so you can pretty much end it wherever you want to. But I would enjoy seeing how you do end it.

I have gotten hooked on reading these stories on here. They are a lot of fun . . . and most of them have no endings, which is disappointing, but doesn't stop me from reading them. Yours was longer than most and I really liked it.


----------



## AtokaGhosthorse

Subbing!

I've found when writing characters with a distinctive accent it gets old quickly - both writing it... and reading it. I try to have a few key words that I use spelled with the accent from time to time to remind the reader what they should be hearing in their head.

Example: I write one Matthew Casey, from New Orleans. I youtubed the heck out of real New Orleans accents (NOT AT ALL like Hollywood portrays them - it's mangled as bad, if not worse, than Texas accents), looked up websites about their slang, looked at sites where the locals were spelling out how the words sounded. I latched onto a few and use them from time to time along with mention of being easily confused with that of a lazy yankee's. He uses words like lagniappe (something given as a bonus or extra gift.) and calls his girlfriend jeune fille (young lady).

Otherwise, he'd be exhausting to read.


----------



## AtokaGhosthorse

knightrider said:


> You should spend a month in the South and you'd have the Southern accent down pat. You know what's funny is (I guess this is like England too), if you stick around the south for awhile, you can begin to tell the difference between, say Alabama accent, Georgia accent, South Carolina accent. They are all slightly different, as well as Texas, even Maryland has one (as I have been told often, being from Maryland).
> 
> As to how long to make it, when you run out of adventures or feel like the story can be wrapped up, then wrap it up--when it kind of naturally falls into place as the ending. Your book is sort of a string of adventures, rather like a serial, so you can pretty much end it wherever you want to. But I would enjoy seeing how you do end it.
> 
> I have gotten hooked on reading these stories on here. They are a lot of fun . . . and most of them have no endings, which is disappointing, but doesn't stop me from reading them. Yours was longer than most and I really liked it.


I know where someone is from in Oklahoma just by how they speak. SE Oklahoma where I live - we do indeed sound like Reba McEntire. We don't think we do, but we do. You get north of here, in Tulsa or OKC, that accent diminishes considerably. You go south to Texas, it isn't as drawly and 'loose lipped' as my grandpa used to say. It still has a drawl to it, but it's tighter, the cadence is faster and cleaner. I've met people from Frisco and Plano that are lifelong Texas natives, born and raised in that area that have virtually NO 'traditional' accent. I think the influence is there though from all the folks from California moving into the area.

I can also tell if you're from Alabama or Arkansas. And oh my goodness... South Carolina. Technically they're yankees to us, but that accent! Holy cow! Where did Deliverance take place? No offence to the SC folks here but you have a very heavy accent up that way.


----------

