The Raffle Baby: The Book That Almost Never Was
The Raffle Baby: The Book That Almost Never Was
The notion that a baby could be given away as a raffle prize is so disturbing to our modern sensibilities that to many, it’s simply unbelievable. When I stumbled upon such a story I certainly didn’t believe it and scrutinized it endlessly to find the “catch” or the punchline.
Not a real baby, surely!
When I didn’t find the catch, I decided to make the story my own and wrote The Raffle Baby, a short historical novel about that very thing: a baby raffled off during a civic fundraiser in 1933.
As I reflect on my twenty-year journey researching and writing The Raffle Baby, a sentence from the book itself comes to mind: “The most important moment of your life does not declare itself while it is approaching.”
And so it was with my journey to write and publish my book. Each step along the way led to an important milestone—an important moment in my life—which ultimately led to a distinct moment when the book came together.
Appropriately, the book began with an actual journey.
In 2001, I took a road trip to the Smoky Mountains, driving south from my home in Virginia, and seeing where the road would take me. The dominos began to fall. I ended up in western North Carolina in a town called Blowing Rock, home to a major tourist attraction called Grandfather Mountain, which features prominently in the book. It is an outcropping of rock that resembles the profile of an old man.
I don’t know about you, but when I’m on vacation I always visit the local library. In the small Blowing Rock library, I sat at a table and absent-mindedly flipped through an oversized folio publication dedicated to the history of the town. And that’s when I spotted the headline: “A Free Baby … ?” The article went on to describe the circumstances of the raffle. I needed to know more. I needed corroboration. I visited the local newspaper office in town and found the original article from 1933.
The headline read: “Baby Will Be Given Away at Blowing Rock.”
Intrigued, I read on. “Who will get the baby? No dog, cat, or any other animal, but a real live baby, six months old and of good parentage will be given away to the person holding the lucky number.”
Convinced that the story was indeed true, I immediately continued my research, but with no results. I scoured the newspaper archives for follow-up articles. Surely it would be announced who won the baby? I also tried to find relatives of the reporter, also without results.
With no answers to my questions, I started to write my own. I wanted to be free to write my own story. Which I began immediately.
Over the course of the next fourteen years, I wrote two separate drafts. I sent the manuscript to agents. Many agents. And faced many rejections. The first draft was written in first person from the point of view of the baby as she grew up. I wrote a second draft with an omniscient narrator. Then life and circumstances interrupted my writing. I got divorced and then remarried. I moved five times.
It was as if one of those most important moments—the moment I found the story of the raffle baby—had come to a dead end.
But there was to be another such moment that didn’t declare itself as it approached. I moved to Minneapolis in 2015 and on an ordinary afternoon as I drove home from the market, I had the idea to tell the story of the raffle baby through the eyes of an observer. And the story fell into place. Suddenly I had three main characters and a plot. I spent the next two years writing a third draft. Again I submitted to agents. Again (and again and again) the book was rejected.
Once more my journey was stalled. Two decades, three drafts, 200,000 words and ~80 agent rejections later, I had a choice to make. I was at a fork in the road, if you will.
I decided the book could either sit in the proverbial drawer for the rest of my life and never see the light of day, or I could indie publish it through Amazon. In many ways, The Raffle Baby is my life’s work, or at least a big chunk of my life. I knew I had to see it through.
And I’m so glad that I stayed the course. I’ve been humbled by the response, reviews and ratings. I’m continually amazed at how much the characters and the story have touched readers.
It is often said that life is not about the destination, but about the journey. I think for writers, though, it is both. The journey is the researching, writing, blood, sweat and tears. The destination is that sweet place where you hold your book in your hands and say to yourself, “I did it!”
—
Ruth Talbot is a research nerd at heart and is happiest pouring over historic newspapers online (thank you Library of Congress) or digging into a non-fiction book. She lives in Minneapolis with her husband and their rescue pup, Jessica Fletcher.
Find out more about Ruth on her website http://www.ruthtalbot.com/
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/RuthTalbotAuthor
The Raffle Baby: An astounding lyrical novel inspired by a shocking true story of the Great Depression
“Purchase a ticket for a chance to win a rosy-cheeked little one. Ladies particularly welcome.”
With precise, breathtaking prose and hints of magical realism, Ruth Talbot tells the tale of three orphans as they crisscross the country in the 1930s, riding the rails, chasing the harvests, and stealing when they must. Their destination is always the same: survival.
Teeny, Sonny Boy and Vic have been swallowed up by the desperation and devastation of the Great Depression, but the trio is buoyed by the fantastical tales Teeny weaves around campfires in hobo jungles and migrant camps, including the story of the raffle baby.
As the three navigate the ravages of poverty and prejudices, they form a family bond as strong as the forces against them. But when a solemn pact fails to protect them, their lives are forever changed. And Sonny Boy is left to tell their story, and his own.
Both heartbreaking and uplifting, The Raffle Baby examines the intersection of love, loss and resilience, and the enduring triumph of memory. This is a magical tale not soon forgotten.
BUY HERE
Category: On Writing