deshotton.bsky.social
Historical fiction with heart.
I tell untold stories of quiet courage during extraordinary times. Characters who endure prejudice, stand up for what’s right, and survive against the odds, revealing truths that speak to us now. DianeWahnShotton.substack.com
138 posts
42 followers
39 following
Getting Started
Active Commenter
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Oooo, I was all in on the waltz. Nice twist!
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Michael leans in. “Chief, I’m fishing in a puddle—no depth, no meaning—a fluff piece meant to fill the page. This story has teeth. Kellerman just told me another man was attacked. Let me check that out. Please.”
'Please' feels like ash on his tongue as he forces it out.
#thedictographcase
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The desks stand at attention, perfectly spaced, awaiting their occupants. On the chalkboard, yesterday’s lesson on German propaganda lingers like a ghost. The discussion had felt timely—necessary even—with reports of Hitler’s activity on the front page almost daily. #thedictographcase
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His mission? Turn his meeting with the City Solicitor from the prominent citizen profile angle he pitched into drawing out Hawthorne’s attitude about Germans in present-day Ellington. If he buys it, he might let something slip. If not, the door slams shut. #thedictographcase
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John draws a shaky breath. “At fifteen, Delia had a baby out of wedlock.”
Olivia’s mind stutters over his words. Delia? Pregnant at fifteen? The idea of his daughter having a child staggers her. She wants to comfort him, offer sympathy.
Instead, she says simply, “I didn’t know.”
#thedictographcase
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Damn. He didn’t want to interview Haber with his wife there. She’d shut him out faster than a stray dog at the butcher’s door.
“Any chance I can speak with him alone?”
“How about this? I'll arrange his morning bath at ten. That should chase his wife away for a little while.”
#thedictographcase
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Me either - I substituted fellow. #lame
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DUDE=FELLOW
”The bank manager threatened his job."
“That’s a clear case of extortion.” Olivia bristles.
Clara stares. “And you’ll do what with that?”
“I’ll talk to this Tink fellow. Get him to tell me more.”
“Can’t. Moved to California.”
Olivia deflates like a leaky balloon. “Oh.” #thedictographcase
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Beautiful Ugly; Broken Country; The Frozen River. may not meet all your requirements but good stuff all the same.
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The morning rush is in full swing. Pedestrians weave between vendors hawking fresh rolls and coffee from sidewalk carts, the scent of yeast and burnt grounds mingle with the acrid bite of exhaust. Newsboys shout the latest headlines from the corners, voices rising above the din. #thedictographcase
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“You thought you were clever,” Baxter growls as he plops down in his chair. “That little stunt—pretending to set up interviews with ‘prominent citizens.’ There was only one citizen you wanted. And now he’s breathing down my neck.”
Michael stays silent. No sense denying it.
#thedictographcase
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Michael finally speaks. “The signs point to Hawthorne and his merry band of Patriotic League friends.”
“Hawthorne?” Clara whispers with unholy reverence.
Mama slams both palms on the table. The plates rattle. Silverware jumps. Even the gravy quivers. “We are not discussing this.”
#thedictographcase
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Sub: muck
Effie stares at him, smoke curling from her cigarette.
Michael shifts, scanning the street, the storefronts. Too many windows. Too many eyes.
“Don’t do this if you want to avoid the muck I’m stirring up from the bottom of the pond. Olivia got a warning last night, too.”
#thedictographcase
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You have a way with words and lipstick names!
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“Why do you think grandfather and his friends were arrested?”
“You know why! That damned Dictograph. The detectives listening.”
“Yes, I know how they got the evidence. But I can’t figure out the reason. Why were those men, in that shop, monitored? Of all the ones in Ellington.” #thedictographcase
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My hometown! Love that stadium! Enjoy.
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"Uncle John, can you help me find the truth? Was his death more than an accident?"
Keys in hand, he eyes the door.
"That's foolishness, Olivia." His tone sharpens—warning, not shock. "What do you hope to gain? It won't bring your father back. Or your mother, for that matter."
#thedictographcase
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“Because assaulting men for being German or for saying something considered un-American is against the law now. Not like during the war, when you and your henchmen used it as a cover for fear tactics to push your 100% American agenda.
Or did you beat them up because you liked it?”#thedictographcase
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Michael’s voice is clipped and urgent. “There’s been another attack. Can you meet me at the morgue?”
Did someone die? She pictures a room with bodies on tables.
Her silence cues him to his mistake. “Sorry. Not the dead people morgue. The newspaper archives. Here at the Journal."
#thedictographcase
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"I still like to go to space now and then."
I wanna grow up to be just like her!
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His lips, that she dearly wants to kiss, curl into a smile, a blush creeping across his cheeks.
“Because of you, I feel brilliant,” Michael says.
In the filing room, the Dictograph sits silent and ready. Wires hidden. Microphone in place.
(sub: brilliant) #thedictographcase
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“Brown leather shoes scraped the gravel beside my head. He lit a cigarette, dropped the match—sulfur stinging my nostrils. I heard nothing from Papa. Just low groans. Then the man standing over me said, ‘We got rid of your kind before, and we’ll do it again.’”
#thedictographcase #wipsnips
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Olivia is methodical. Careful. She jots down names of lawyers, defendants, witnesses. Anyone who might hold a piece of the truth.
She finds about half of them in the telephone book. Then she circles one.
William Hawthorne. County attorney. At the center of the Dictograph Case.
#thedictographcase
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Pritchett’s coffee mug sits on the desk beside him—a battered thing with a cracked handle.
Michael gives it an exaggerated sniff and wrinkles his nose.
“Still starting your day with Irish courage, I see.”
The newsroom freezes.
Someone coughs into their hand to hide a chuckle.
#thedictographcase
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Olivia tells the class, “When we accept something as truth just because it comes from someone in power—without questioning it—that’s where the danger lies. That’s how fear spreads. How lies get accepted. It’s not just a rumor anymore; it becomes the story they want you to believe. #thedictographcase
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“He moved to California during the appeal process.”
Max rubs his hands together, eager for the chase. “Oh, honey, I’ve got a list of people who owe me favors as long as my arm. Tink’s as good as found.”
If they can find him, maybe he has the answers Olivia needs.
#thedictographcase #wipsnips
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Thank you! Coming this fall!
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The Journal splashed the story on the front page the same day as the arrests—suggesting advance notice.
As a boy, it meant his grandfather was going to jail or paying a fine.
Now he remembered the chaos:
Their quiet life, unraveling.
Branded seditionists. Traitors. By neighbors.
#thedictographcase
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In the scheme of things, there's a good chance we're related!
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A dog barks somewhere down the block.
A car rumbles past.
In the distance, Olivia swears she hears the click-clack of streetcar wheels, the screech of tires, the sickening thud of her father’s body hitting the pavement. #thedictographcase #wipsnips #histfic
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Michael Schumann pictured his stories in the Ellington Journal’s afternoon edition—buried on page four, wedged between ads for girdles and cheap sofas. He hadn’t come into journalism for car shows or ribbon cuttings. He wanted to drag truth into daylight like a real muckraker. #thedictographcase
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Max brushes off his pants and extends a hand to Olivia.
She shakes her head. “I’ll stay here.”
“No, you won’t.”
Olivia relents and takes his hand. Flopping on the sofa, she points to the cocktail cart, where crystal glasses and a matching decanter of soul-soothing brandy beckon.
#TheDictographCase
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Tink’s voice has a Southern lilt, slow and melodic, pleasant to the ear.
“This is the one and only call we’ll ever have. My name must never appear anywhere. No papers, no magazines, nothing. I’d like the folks in Ellington to think I’m dead.”
Dead is pronounced like dad.
#TheDictographCase
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She remembers his gift—the leather satchel she carried through college and now hauls between home and Ellington High. The brass clasp still bears her initials: O.A.K. Olivia Adams Kendall. She was an oak, all right—standing tall and strong when catastrophe struck. Then again. #thedictographcase #wip
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“German” and “warnings” in the same breath scratch at something—a quiet itch Michael can’t ignore. Maybe it’s nothing. But by the time he hits the sidewalk, his pace has quickened. The part of him that hasn’t given up on stories that matter is already chasing it. #thedictographcase #wipsnips
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Ok i'll play:
• “Hello, Goodbye” — The Beatles (1967)
• “Hello It’s Me” — Todd Rundgren (1972)
• “Hello Hooray” — Alice Cooper (1973)
• “Hello Old Friend” — Eric Clapton (1976)
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Removing his hat, Michael says, “Good afternoon, Miss Kendall.”
“Hello. It's Olivia. And for God’s sake, put your hat back on. It’s too hot to stand on ceremony.”
The words fly out and she instantly regrets them. Flushing, she shields her eyes and pretends to check house numbers. #thedictographcase
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The scene is too intimate to intrude. Michael lingers, choosing to observe before making his presence known.
A woman with tired eyes and a lined face sits by the bed, her hand covering that of a man whose head is wrapped in white bandages, gray wisps protruding in uneven tufts. #thedictographcase
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Olivia gasps when it's apparent he plans to tear the sketch out of the paper.
Michael’s eyes lock with hers, speaks with quiet urgency.
"What matters more? A newspaper clipping taken without permission—or preventing another deadly attack before it happens?"
#thedictographcase
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Michael flops into the chair, stretches his long legs, and waits for orders. He tugs his notebook from his pocket.
"What am I chasing now, Chief? An old lady who swears her husband's spirit took over her dog?"
He dreads another story barely worth lining a birdcage. #thedictographcase
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As he drains his umpteenth cup of coffee, Tom Pritchett, a balding, wiry guy with a pencil-thin mustache, drops his ass on Michael’s desk—right on top of his notebook. He watches the notebook disappear and makes a mental note to tear out that page. Maybe the next two. #thedictographcase