On putting our family histories into words ...

How is it that writing seems so easy until we sit down to attempt it? This is not a novel, or an acdemic dissertation; it is about leaving something behind to show for all our efforts -- an attempt to put a family’s history into coherent, reasonably accurate form, without leaving  potential readers confused or bored. 

Ah, the readers -- who are they to be? In my case, I hope it is simply some of the younger generation of people related to our family lines --  i. e., my children, their cousins, and future generations of same. 

Is the writing to be an adjunct to a collection of documents and photographs? A series of captions with spare descriptions to hold them all together?  Or is it a stand-alone story with citations or incidental references to the documentation?  Or … something in between?

This issue is the one that gave me pause -- I began by planning simply to create some family-tree-type charts and add extensive captions for the volumes of material I had collected.  In other words, it would be a kind of justification for all the years I had put into this work. 

Gradually, however, I came around to the notion that, for me, writing a narrative would be a better way to go; I could then include the documents as supporting material.  

Then there is the matter of structure. Should one start from the present and work back in time, as we are advised to do our research?  And, if so, what line or lines do we choose to follow? Or should one start back with an earliest-so-far-discovered ancestor and come forward? In either case, the problem arises about how to manage the collateral lines that develop, so that the project doesn’t turn into a frustrating maze.

Once those matters are decided, at least provisionally (an outline is essential), how does one present the facts? Will the writing be a description of “how I did it,” or  a straighforward depiction of the people and events? Or something else entirely?

And of course, how much information should be included? I had a single family line in mind, starting way back when and coming forward, and of course I wanted to make it as complete as possible, but that could fill volumes. The most satisfactory way to deal with that, it appears, is to break the work into sections, each based on a time period, or location, or major event.

No one structure/format/style fits every case, but these are questions every genealogist/author needs to consider.

More about this later.

In the meantime, I commend to everyone the wonderful blog, The Legal Genealogist.

Please take a look. The author was in the thick of the East Coast storm and her reactions are eloquent in their simplicity (posts of Nov. 2 and 3, 2012).

In Decision

Now that the holiday season is past, there are those decisions -- which wrappings and boxes to save, recycle or discard. How many boxes does one need, anyway? If it contained an electronic item must it be kept in the unlikely event that the item must be returned for repair?  Have you ever known anyone who had to return a TV set, or a toaster, for that matter, in its original box?  I still have boxes in the garage for stuff I don’t even own anymore.

So everything boils down to Decisions.  Just like in genealogy.  

When I am trying to select a document for filing, it is really slow going because of all those decisions!  First I must decide if it is worth holding on to. Is it something I already have?  If so, do I keep the duplicate copy?  Is it something directly related to one of my persons of interest, mug-book puffery on a distant relative by marriage, or background/history on the area where they spent their lives?   Is it an abstract for which I have found a copy of the original document? Do I stop what I am doing and go try to follow up an obscure notation, now that so many more records are available online?

No wonder everything takes so much time! And then, after the evaluation and sorting, there is the actual filing.

When I had a PC, a lot of documents got filed by means of the very useful Clooz program. Basically, it guides you to categorize each item by major surname (I have four), and TYPE.  Numbered as they are acquired, they still can easily be found.  Need to review that BLM record for old Uncle Harry’s farm?  Look in the Clemson/Land file. Great grandfather Winters’ death certificate? -- Winters/Vital. (One of my lines is so spread out I subdivided by region and then type.)

The computer program allowed for printing out lists of, say, all the people linked to a particular document, or all the documents relating to a single person.  But I also chose to print a table of contents to place in each folder, and found I consulted that instead of the computer most of the time.

However,  I have a Mac now, with no available Clooz equivalent .  There is a fairly straightforward database program for the Mac, called Bento, but do I really want to spend the time developing a whole new database/file for all these mountains of documents?  Not really.

So I’ll just leave the already-filed items in place and continue in the same manner, making sure to keep my folders’ contents lists up to date, as that will be my main means of access. (Of course I also note the complete file “code” for each item in the related individual’s notes, in Reunion, my computer genealogy program.)

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An earlier project, my family history narratives for the genealogically-challenged are pretty well finished.  I only went back four generations, and included, in addition to the text, abbreviated pedigree charts for my husband and myself, and descendant charts for his parents and mine.  That way future readers can see the aunts, uncles and cousins, as well as a few generations of direct ancestors.  It was quite enjoyable, looking up contemporary relatives and learning a bit more about their families.  I can only hope the results are interesting and make some sense.

The curse of the unfinished project ...

I’ve learned to be wary of my own enthusiasms. What seems like a fantastically wonderful idea in the early morning hours may collapse within days, deflated like an old balloon. It is so tempting to plunge right in and start whacking away as soon as the thought occurs. And so discouraging when, several hours into the project, a fatal shortcoming shows up. Or the sustained interest just isn’t there, the point is lost, and the whole thing gets consigned to the back of the file cabinet.

Another thing that dampens my fervor is the discovery that what I have is not a NEW idea at all -- my so-called innovation has been done by everyone else long ago. Of course if it still works for me, who cares?

So, when a lightbulb goes off over my head these days I like to take a while to ponder ALL the possibilities. I’m certainly not against spontaneity -- it’s just that most seemingly good ideas need time to mature. The best way to proceed, I find, is to write out the new-found project idea in the form of a realistic goal and the steps needed to get there.

One day I thought I’d like to create, and print, descendant charts for all my end-of-line ancestors, coming down at least four generations. The first try worked well and with a good deal of tweaking I even got it to fit on a single legal-size page. But the next one had so many children and so many marriages I simply could not manage it. And then a look through my files showed that I had tried this sort of thing many times before.

I was forcefully reminded that what works for one family line isn’t necessarily going to work for them all. Sometimes we sacrifice too much in an effort to be consistent -- or let the notion of keeping things uniform discourage us completely. Some families move a lot, others stay put. Some have multiple marriages, others don’t. Where family history is concerned, the only thing that is consistent is the lack of consistency!

This was my most recent lightbulb thought: to create a set of family history albums, one for each of my/our five major lines. It is an extension of the narrative idea I described last time, and would include, as well as the story line, an illustrated pedigree, the above-mentioned descendant charts, and selected photos and documents. I already have archival binders with many items included, but for this project I would like to begin afresh. Sometimes trying to revise an old unfinished project is just too discouraging, or distracting.

I’ll let you know how it comes along next time.

Time to move the goalposts

When you need a fire extinguisher to blow out the birthday candles, you just have to admit you are no longer young, or even middle-aged. Then, too, there’s the difference in other people’s behavior toward you. It’s no longer necessary to ask for the senior discount; somehow they know. Young people sometimes actually offer to give up their seats on trains and buses, or help with your groceries. What cinches it is the realiztion that you know more about World War II than most Jeopardy contestants

With old(er) age comes a certain attitude toward your future plans, too. It’s far closer to the end than the beginning, and we accumulate all this STUFF. Having experienced the travails of clearing out other family members’ belongings, I do not envy my children the chore that lies ahead at some point. Thoughtful and caring though they are, will they reach a breaking point and feel compelled to start shovelling everything into a dumpster?

These philosophical musings have led me to give serious thought to the likely fate of all my genealogical research. And that in turn has inspired a new way of looking at my goals. I ask myself: Am I going to publish a scholarly paper for some periodical? Not likely. Am I going to write a best-selling family memoir? Absolutely not. Would I like to leave something understandable and at least moderately interesting for the younger family members? Yes yes yes!

I find it always helps to break down a big project into smaller pieces, so finishing each one gives a sense of accomplishment, and the overall effort does not seem so daunting. So, to begin work on this modest legacy, I’d want to write a series of narratives, covering the main results of my research to date, and including basic charts and a few family photos. After maybe three generations I’d end the first “chapter” and take stock. The emphasis would be on direct ancestors, of course, but I’d cetainly include the families of siblings, and the necessarily complex connections resulting from multiple marriages. (Only a few photos because I've already scanned those and copied them to CDs for distribution)

Even if I were not putting together something with future generations in mind, this way of handling my research efforts could be a very productive undertaking. One of the best ways I know to work on a problem is to try explaining it, in writing, to someone else. Just the act of putting it in some sort of order can spotlight gaps and possibilities for additional work.

What do you think of this approach? Have you thought about what will happen to your research? What would you LIKE to have happen to it? I’d really like to learn your thoughts on the subject.

Some moans ...

Don't you hate it when...

-- you come across a lengthy and detailed family tree online and it has absolutely no documentation? Or the author's email address is invalid? Or the author promises to send you more and you never hear from him/her again?

-- you see your own early efforts, naively offered to some other genealogist years ago, showing up online (without your knowledge or consent) as if they are gospel?

These have all happened to me and I must admit I sometimes grind my teeth in frustration.

There is actually a book which acknowledges me as one of the informants and yet is filled with information based on hearsay and guesswork. The result of a well-intentioned effort, but little in it seems to have been verified with credible evidence.

I once came across an Internet posting of great interest, and when I wrote the individual he said he had "a boatload of information." But it never was forthcoming, despite my gentle requests and friendly offers to compensate for any costs involved.

When email addresses are out of date it is even more aggravating. Oh, how I would like to get in touch with someone who posted a comment in 2004 about a known relative of mine. But her emails bounce back, and she never bothered to update her address.

Then there are the wildly enthusiastic family historians who, for a few giddy months, flood you with letters, charts, pictures and all sorts of family lore, then drop out of sight. They don't answer repeated inquiries. Dead? Or have they just lost interest?

Well, we just have to plug along, finding what we can and working to verify every scrap of information we find. If unsupported data seems likely and can provide clues for additional research, I like to include it in my database, but wish I could mark it in some way as "not yet confirmed" or "hearsay only".

Do you have any suggestions?