Small Victories and Golden Sources

In the world of writing, where success is often fleeting or delayed (getting published only happens after years of work, if it happens at all), you learn to celebrate the small victories and rely on them to push you forward. Here are my two of my small victories so far:

Small Victory #1: Happiness! Every morning when I sit down in front of the computer and see a stack of books before me, bearing titles such as San Francisco Then and Now; The Book of Chinese Beliefs; and Wild Women of the Old West, I rub my hands together and emit an admittedly evil-sounding "Yeeeessssss." Most people I know don't get excited by a pile of work on their desks. I'm pretty lucky that way. Maybe that's not so small a victory after all.

Small Victory #2: Supporters! I am very grateful for the people who have been supporting me, leaving notes of encouragement for me on Facebook and in emails. And here's the BIG victory: this blog now has email subscriberS! That's right, the all-important "s," which means I have subscribers plural. This is a big boost to my confidence, not only because it makes me think I'm worth reading (or worth being obliged to subscribe), but because it also makes me accountable to someone to continue writing. This makes me a sharper writer and keeps me on track, plus I know I'm not just doing this for myself anymore. So thank you to my subscribers, and please, you two, don't unsubscribe until a couple more sign on!

(Want to subscribe and get updates in your email? I wouldn't either, normally, but it gives you a few minutes away from your own work stack. Go to the "Follow By Email" section on the right.)

Another small victory is coming across a golden source. It's sort of like a golden fleece for Jason and his Argonauts, a trump card for bridge players, or that nugget of gold found in the American River by that grizzled miner (gold and money being the obvious themes here). When starting a research project, each book, letter, journal entry, and newspaper article is new and exciting. "Oh my gosh, San Francisco used to be called Yerba Buena!" one might exclaim (and I have). After few months and eighteen more sources that say the same thing, the luster wears off. Finding a new and fresh source of information, therefore, is a jolt of energy.

For example, my plan has been to trace Ah Toy's journey from southern China to San Francisco. I want to describe what it must have been like to live in China, what factors went into her decision to emigrate, and what the ride on the ship was like as she traversed thousands of nautical miles to San Francisco. I haven't been able to find much, however. Everything I've read has just been a list of numbers: "This many thousands of Chinese arrived in 1850." "This many thousands of Chinese arrived in 1851." That's all well and good, but I want something more intimate and personal. It's been starting to nag at me.

But just a couple days ago, a beam of light shone down on that golden source! (Maybe I'm the only one around here who gets excited about these things, but your patience is appreciated.) I was reading A History of the Chinese in California: A Syllabus (informative, but zzzzzzzzzzz), when I stumbled across this:

Hong Kong was the general rendezvous for departure to California. The emigrants usually stayed at dormitories provided by the passage brokers or at friends' and relatives' homes until the day of embarkation.

I knew about the Hong Kong part, but the part about emigrants staying in dormitories before their departure perked me up. Had I just found a nugget of information about the journey? I looked at the footnote, found the source (Why and How: Why the Chinese Emigrate, and the Means They Adopt for the Purpose of Reaching America, written by Russell Conwell in 1871), looked it up, found the full text online (thank you Google Books!!!) and discovered a gold mine. Here are a few snippets that made me throw my papers in the air with joy:

The poor Coolie goes to his hard, uncomfortable hut, after hearing of the free California, with a discontented feeling.... Weeks pass, and he hears of gifts for the gods from Chinamen in California, and of presents to a family from their friends across the Pacific. Tales of rich Chinamen in the United States begin to multiply, and under their influence the Coolie's discontentment gradually and steadily increases.

Just at this time, perhaps, comes a circular sent out by some ship-owners or contractors through the Chinese brokers, informing him that a vessel is taking Chinese passengers for California or New Orleans: "Americans a very rich people. They want the Chinamen to come and will make him very welcome. There you will have great pay, large houses, and food and clothing of the finest description.... It is a nice country, without mandarins or soldiers. All alike; big man no larger than little man. There are a great many Chinamen there now, and it will not be a strange country.... Never fear, and you will be lucky."

During those long dull days [at sea] which follow, when there is but a barren "waste of waters" without, and a tedious routine of eating, walking, sleeping, within, the Coolie occupies nine tenths of his time in thinking and planning what he shall do with the remaining one tenth. His love for games of chance brings out the dice, dominoes, cards, and numerous other gaming toys which the European looker-on has never before seen.

These detailed descriptions go on for pages and pages, and I am energized once again.

Yeeeesssssssss.