<rss version="2.0" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"><channel><title>elysedouglas</title><description>elysedouglas</description><link>https://www.elysedouglas.com/blog-and-book-trailers</link><item><title>MY 134-YEAR-OLD KENTUCKY “UNCLE”</title><description><![CDATA[He was the oldest man in the world. He rarely wore shoes and chewed tobacco constantly. He claimed he grew 3 sets of teeth during his long life. And when he died on July 5, 1922, his oldest child was 99 years old and his youngest only seven. Other men in the mountains lived to be old men, but none ever came close to John Shell.This was my great, great grandfather, fondly known in the family as Uncle Johnny Shell (actually spelled Schell, according to my 100-year-old grandmother who had the same<img src="http://static.wixstatic.com/media/83f172_270478c062e24ee796daecc99a85f885%7Emv2.jpg"/>]]></description><dc:creator>Elyse Douglas</dc:creator><link>https://www.elysedouglas.com/single-post/2017/10/06/MY-134-YEAR-OLD-KENTUCKY-%E2%80%9CUNCLE%E2%80%9D</link><guid>https://www.elysedouglas.com/single-post/2017/10/06/MY-134-YEAR-OLD-KENTUCKY-%E2%80%9CUNCLE%E2%80%9D</guid><pubDate>Sat, 07 Oct 2017 00:17:42 +0000</pubDate><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div><img src="http://static.wixstatic.com/media/83f172_270478c062e24ee796daecc99a85f885~mv2.jpg"/><div>He was the oldest man in the world. He rarely wore shoes and chewed tobacco constantly. He claimed he grew 3 sets of teeth during his long life. And when he died on July 5, 1922, his oldest child was 99 years old and his youngest only seven. Other men in the mountains lived to be old men, but none ever came close to John Shell.</div><div>This was my great, great grandfather, fondly known in the family as Uncle Johnny Shell (actually spelled Schell, according to my 100-year-old grandmother who had the same last name). Shell was a gunsmith, (his Kentucky Flintlock Rifle was recently auctioned for $40,250.00) a miller, a wainwright (repaired wagons) and a blacksmith. He made knives, axes, hammers, spinning wheels, looms, and whiskey. He was also widely known to be an exceptional storyteller.</div><div>Yes, back in 1922, my Uncle John Shell was purported to be 132 years old when he finally shed his old—very old—mortal coil. Fact or fiction? Well, we’ll probably never know for sure. Like I said, he was a great storyteller.</div><div>Perhaps I inherited some small measure of his storytelling genes, although I confess I am striving to impress upon the world that I am not galloping toward 100, but am, in fact, retrogressing, gracefully, to the fine and stable age of 40. As they say, only time will tell, but we all know how this story will end.</div><div>But I digress. </div><div>Uncle Johnny was born in 1788 near the Roaring River in East Tennessee. The family eventually settled in Leslie County, Kentucky, near what today is part of Harlan, KY. </div><div>John Shell recalled the earthquake which rumbled through Kentucky in 1811, saying that it came in December, early in the morning and lasted for two days, shaking the dishes from the table and pictures from the walls. He could call to mind when the stars fell at night “long in bunches and one after the other” in 1837 or 1838. John knew Daniel Boone and remembered him killing bear, deer and wild turkeys.</div><div>When the Civil War broke out, Shell rode all the way to Virginia to fight for the Confederacy. “When John Shell arrived in Virginia and finally got to see Robert E. Lee to enlist to fight for the Confederacy,” relates Shell descendant Naomi A. Middleton Taylor in a family history, “Robert E. Lee said to him, ‘Sir, I admire you for riding this far. But sir, I cannot take you because of your age.’ John Shell was disappointed. You see, he was 74 years old.”</div><div>Below is an excerpt from an article about Naomi A. Middleton Taylor whose book, My Legacy, traces her family genealogy, with the primary focus being on John Shell. The article was written by Rachel E. Sheeley.</div><div>Taylor started her research at the Wayne County Historical Museum, where she was fortunately referred to Harry Hunter at the Smithsonian Institution. Hunter, a native Hoosier, assisted her with research on Shell that is recorded in the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History.</div><div>John Shell was born in 1788 near the Roaring River in the territory of Tennessee to gunsmith Samuel and Mary Ann Shell. He learned the rifle-making trade from his father and was reputed to have been friends with Daniel Boone.</div><div>According to Taylor’s book, John Shell was always willing to fight for his beliefs. ‘When the War of 1812 broke out, John Shell was 24 years old; when the Mexican War broke out in 1845, John Shell was 57 years old; when the Civil War broke out, John Shell rode all the way to Virginia to fight for Robert E. Lee of the Confederacy.’</div><div>John Shell moved to Kentucky when he was in his 30s. He and his first wife had 12 children. She lived to be 117.</div><div>When he married for a second time, it was to a much younger woman, Elizabeth “Betsy” Chappell Shell.</div><div>In 1915, the Shells had a son, James Albert Shell. The infant's father was 126 years old.</div><div>Middleton’s father—John Shell’s great-grandson—was just a year older than the infant.</div><div>John Shell’s longevity was celebrated at the Kentucky State Fair in Louisville, Ky., when he was age 131. According to a document in the Smithsonian, John Shell was able to produce a receipt for his poll tax—for which he would have had to have been 21 to pay—that was dated 1809.</div><div>After the appearance at the fair, John Shell is reputed to have gone back to his Grassy Creek home where he won a shooting challenge against three young men with a gun he made.</div><div>According to Taylor’s book, John Shell went hunting in 1922 when he was 132 years old and got caught in a storm. He became so ill he died.</div><div>‘He was an incredible gentleman,’ Taylor said.</div><div>Taylor said there are people who dispute John Shell’s advanced age, and to them she says, “Fooey.”</div><div>Her manuscript has been accepted for the Library of Congress.</div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Trailer: The Christmas Town</title><description><![CDATA[<img src="http://img.youtube.com/vi/o-DVB8X3uGg/mqdefault.jpg"/>]]></description><link>https://www.elysedouglas.com/single-post/2017/10/06/Trailer-The-Christmas-Town</link><guid>https://www.elysedouglas.com/single-post/2017/10/06/Trailer-The-Christmas-Town</guid><pubDate>Fri, 06 Oct 2017 19:59:36 +0000</pubDate><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/o-DVB8X3uGg"/></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Trailer: The Christmas Diary</title><description><![CDATA[<img src="http://img.youtube.com/vi/DJmLvGhSTXw/mqdefault.jpg"/>]]></description><link>https://www.elysedouglas.com/single-post/2017/10/06/Trailer-The-Christmas-Diary</link><guid>https://www.elysedouglas.com/single-post/2017/10/06/Trailer-The-Christmas-Diary</guid><pubDate>Fri, 06 Oct 2017 19:56:02 +0000</pubDate><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/DJmLvGhSTXw"/></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Time Traveling With That Romantic Christmas Man</title><description><![CDATA[For most of us, the words Christmas and romance evoke feelings of joy, fond childhood memories and the exciting possibility that something wonderful could happen just around the next bell-ringing, corner Santa Claus. As a child in a French-Canadian family, my imaginative and romantic nature was drawn to the romance and mystery of the first Christmas. I wanted to be transported back in time to experience that glorious first night where shepherds, angels, wise men and a bright star changed the]]></description><link>https://www.elysedouglas.com/single-post/2017/10/06/TIME-TRAVELING-WITH-THAT-ROMANTIC-CHRISTMAS-MAN</link><guid>https://www.elysedouglas.com/single-post/2017/10/06/TIME-TRAVELING-WITH-THAT-ROMANTIC-CHRISTMAS-MAN</guid><pubDate>Fri, 06 Oct 2017 19:53:40 +0000</pubDate><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div><div>For most of us, the words Christmas and romance evoke feelings of joy, fond childhood memories and the exciting possibility that something wonderful could happen just around the next bell-ringing, corner Santa Claus. </div><div> As a child in a French-Canadian family, my imaginative and romantic nature was drawn to the romance and mystery of the first Christmas. I wanted to be transported back in time to experience that glorious first night where shepherds, angels, wise men and a bright star changed the mythology, religion and the world forever. I imagined myself hovering in the heavens with the angels, meeting a cute shepherd boy and roaming the dark hills under cold, glistening stars, and riding a camel with a bearded wise man.</div><div> After I read Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women, I decided to write my first Christmas story. It was entitled The Man From Christmas. I was living in Atlanta at the time and was surrounded by stories about the American Civil War. My story was about a handsome Rebel Cavalry officer who came galloping into our backyard one snowy Christmas Eve (although it never snowed in Atlanta). When I burst out the back door, nightgown billowing, hair blowing, eyes glowing, he charged toward me with saber drawn, exclaiming. “There she is! The girl of my dreams!” He swung me up onto his horse and we rode off to 1863, where love and adventure knew no bounds or reason, except for the problem of how I was going to get back home to my time, since my beloved officer was killed heroically in battle. No problem. I met another man, an alchemist, who swept me off to 18th century France. He was a dark, brooding prince, cunningly skillful at unhooking my diamond necklace and my inhibitions. </div><div> I re-read the story recently and cringed, quickly slipping the over-heated thing back into the coffee-stained manila envelope, and hiding it in the back closet, next to my husband’s can of WD-40. </div><div> As I grew older, it was the Christmas music, the midnight mass on Christmas Eve and the traditions of gift-giving and candlelight carol-singing that uplifted me, and sent my overworked imagination into a delicious Christmas-pudding frenzy. I transported myself back to the “olden days” of one-horse open sleigh rides, gas lights and snowy kisses with Charles Heath (my second imagined Christmas man) who escorted me to his imposing and massive Victorian house, where he proposed marriage under the mistletoe, next to a gleaming fireplace. Did I want to marry him? He was handsome and rich, yes, but, he was also... well, a little toonice. I had my eyes set on Austen Landis, the town rascal.</div><div> But I was hooked on the genre. Time, travel, and romance: three beguiling words, alive with so many alluring possibilities. Each word fires up even the driest of imaginations. Each word promises the glamour of adventure and romance, and I can never resist reading them and writing them.</div><div> Elyse Douglas’ newest novel, The Christmas Town, is a light and breezy Time Travel Romance about two successful modern women who get lost in a snowstorm, cross a covered bridge and wind up back in 1943, in a small Vermont town. They meet two soldiers, who are about to be sent off to war. They fall in love and struggle to return to their own time, caught between new love and their wish to return home. A Christmas miracle changes them all forever. </div><div> Whether you prefer the steamy Time Travel Romances or the cleaner, lighter style, Time Travel Romances allow you to escape for a time into an almost mystical world of hope, adventure and romance. A friend recently said “These novels make me feel bigger than my little house and small town. I can travel to distant places and be a beautiful adored woman, for at least a little while.” </div><div>By the way, The Man From Christmas has reappeared in my closet, crooking his finger at me, beckoning. There is a strange eerie light shimmering around him, suggesting a time travel journey? Shall I be petulant, remote and coy? Shall I go with him? Christmas is just around the corner.</div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Trailer: The Other Side of Summer</title><description><![CDATA[This is our new book trailer for The Other Side of Summer<img src="http://img.youtube.com/vi/R90y3L6eC_U/mqdefault.jpg"/>]]></description><link>https://www.elysedouglas.com/single-post/2017/10/06/Trailer-The-Other-Side-of-Summer</link><guid>https://www.elysedouglas.com/single-post/2017/10/06/Trailer-The-Other-Side-of-Summer</guid><pubDate>Fri, 06 Oct 2017 19:48:36 +0000</pubDate><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/R90y3L6eC_U"/><div>This is our new book trailer for The Other Side of Summer</div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>What Happens to Your Brain When You Read?
(or Listen to an Audiobook?)</title><description><![CDATA[As a writer, I love to read—fiction, nonfiction, blogs, the back of cereal boxes and, of course, the liner notes on those old vinyl record albums. I also download audiobooks, because sometimes at night, I’m tired and I want to rest my eyes and let someone else read to me. It’s comforting and it’s relaxing. The other night I had a thought: What happens to my brain when I read or when I listen to an audiobook?Here are some of the things I learned: Your brain adapts to reading e-books in seven days]]></description><link>https://www.elysedouglas.com/single-post/2017/10/06/What-Happens-to-Your-Brain-When-You-Read-or-Listen-to-an-Audiobook</link><guid>https://www.elysedouglas.com/single-post/2017/10/06/What-Happens-to-Your-Brain-When-You-Read-or-Listen-to-an-Audiobook</guid><pubDate>Fri, 06 Oct 2017 19:46:50 +0000</pubDate><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div><div>As a writer, I love to read—fiction, nonfiction, blogs, the back of cereal boxes and, of course, the liner notes on those old vinyl record albums. I also download audiobooks, because sometimes at night, I’m tired and I want to rest my eyes and let someone else read to me. It’s comforting and it’s relaxing. The other night I had a thought: What happens to my brain when I read or when I listen to an audiobook?</div><div>Here are some of the things I learned:</div><div>Your brain adapts to reading e-books in seven days (it’s called spatial navigability)The act of listening to a story can light up your brainReading changes your brain structure (in a good way)Different styles of reading create different patterns in the brainNew languages can grow your brainStory structure encourages your brain to think in sequence, expanding your attention spanDeep reading makes you more empatheticAccording to researcher Jeremy Hsu, “Personal stories and gossip make up 65% of our conversations.”</div><div>According to the OEBD Open Education Database, when we read, we make photos in our minds, even without being prompted. Reading books and other materials with rich imagery lets us create worlds in our own minds. Researchers have found that visual imagery is automatic. When we read a sentence, we automatically bring up pictures of objects in our minds.</div><div>Reading about an experience is almost the same as living it. Have you ever felt so completely connected to a story that it’s as if you experienced it in real life?</div><div>According to experts, when we read, the brain does not make a real distinction between reading about an experience and actually living it. The same neurological regions are stimulated. Reading is the original virtual reality experience, at least for our brains.</div><div>Most any kind of reading provides stimulation for your brain, but different types of reading give different experiences with varying benefits. Researchers from Stanford University have found that close literary reading gives your brain a workout in multiple complex cognitive functions. Pleasure reading increases blood flow to different areas of the brain.</div><div>Okay, so what about audiobooks? Researchers have also found that the spoken word lights up our sensory cortex and puts our brains to work, in a good way. When we’re told a story, not only are language processing parts of our brain activated, experiential parts of our brain come alive, too.</div><div>Finally, story structure encourages our brains to think in sequence, expanding our attention spans. Stories have a beginning, middle, and end, and that’s a good thing for your brain. With this structure, our brains are encouraged to think in sequence, linking cause and effect.</div><div>Neuroscientists encourage parents to read to their kids as much as possible. They say you will be instilling story structure in their young minds, while their brain develops flexibility and a longer attention span.</div><div>So, it’s okay to listen to your coworkers’ endless stories about their vacations, to tune in to talk radio if you dare, and to listen to an audiobook in your car: it’s all good exercise for your brain.</div></div>]]></content:encoded></item></channel></rss>