I’ve been informed that new my book, Fool’s Gold Folly, has made it to round two in the voting process for best book cover of the month by AllAuthor. Thank you so much for voting! If you did vote, please vote again! If not, please vote! Here is the link: https://allauthor.com/cover-of-the-month/19730/
Also, I was featured in a write up by USA Wire. I have a few more of these which I will be sharing from time to time.
The best historical fiction skillfully blends fact and fiction, taking readers to different time periods while giving them a new perspective on what happened in the past. In order to create stories that feel genuine, authors in this genre thoroughly investigate historical locations, people, and civilizations. Among the greats of historical fiction, J.D.R. Hawkins stands head and shoulders above the crowd for the way she has conveyed the American Civil War through her writing.
Finding the right mix of reality and imagination is essential for historical fiction. While being historically accurate, authors must conjure up evocative scenes that transport readers to bygone eras. The genre’s strong protagonists and antagonists bring the past to life, letting readers feel connected to the stories they read. A great work of historical fiction does more than just describe events; it makes history interesting, relatable, and captivating on an emotional level.
Using her skill, J.D.R. Hawkins portrays the hardships and victories of individuals at a turbulent time in American history. Her character-driven storytelling and commitment to historical authenticity have garnered her immense praise, solidifying her position as one of the most esteemed authors in the genre.
J.D.R. Hawkins, whose birth name is Julia Dawn Ryan Hawkins and who was born in Sioux City, Iowa, on June 9, 1959, had a strong desire to write from an early age. She owes her careful research and storytelling style to her journalism degree from Iowa State University, which she pursued under her parents’ encouragement. She worked tirelessly to perfect her craft and is now a well-known historical fiction novelist, best known for the critically acclaimed Renegade Series.
Hawkins provides a complex and empathetic view of the Civil War as one of the rare female writers who wrote from a Confederate viewpoint. Instead of glorifying war, her works examine the mental and emotional toll it takes on troops and their families. The B.R.A.G. Medallion and the John Esten Cooke Fiction Award are only two of the many accolades she has received for her sensitive and accurate portrayal of this time period.
Hawkins is widely recognized as an exceptional storyteller due to her talent for combining historical details with captivating anecdotes. With vivid descriptions and emotionally gripping plots, her novels put readers in the shoes of her Civil War-era protagonists.
Beyond fiction, Hawkins has made significant literary contributions. Horses in Gray: Famous Confederate Warhorses is her nonfiction book about the Civil War that delves into the significance of horses and their participation in warfare. Her short novella A Becharmed Callie Christmas also gives readers a touching look into the lives of the characters from the Renegade Series.
Her involvement in groups like Pikes Peak Writers, Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers, United Daughters of the Confederacy, and The International Women’s Writing Guild demonstrates her dedication to historical writing. Her ongoing contributions to the literary and historical communities through these associations guarantee that history will always be an interesting and approachable subject for readers of all ages.
Not only is J.D.R. Hawkins a prolific historical fiction writer, but she has also contributed significantly to literature by highlighting underrepresented viewpoints. The Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and Amazon have all listed her books as bestsellers, adding to her already substantial literary prominence.
Hawkins has revolutionized historical fiction with her painstaking research, captivating storytelling, and commitment to historical accuracy. She has shown that the past is more than just a string of events; it is a fabric of human experiences that have a lasting impact on our present. A genuine light in historical fiction, her work is a tribute to the power of narrative in preserving history.
Historical fiction writers like J.D.R. Hawkins are uncommon breeds; they possess an unusual trifecta of research prowess, creative flair, and empathy. Her captivating storytelling, impeccable character development, and talent for immersing readers in the Civil War era distinguish her as a prominent personality in the genre. If you’re looking for a gripping historical fiction that will educate as well as entertain, go no further than Hawkins’s writings. They take readers on a memorable voyage through time.
One hundred and sixty-two years ago this week, both Union and Confederate soldiers prepared for what would become one of the greatest battles in American history, the Battle of Gettysburg. This excerpt is from my novel, A Beckoning Hellfire, which is the second book in the Renegade Series. During this time, the Confederate cavalry was making its way north after engaging in the Battle of Brandy Station, which was the largest cavalry battle to ever take place on North American soil. This excerpt describes what General J.E.B. Stuart’s cavalry went through from June 24 through June 30, 1863.
Two days later, after being instructed to prepare three days rations, J.E.B. Stuart’s cavalry congregated in Salem, Virginia. General Stuart chose three brigades to travel with him: Hampton’s; Rooney Lee’s, now under Chambliss; and Fitzhugh Lee’s. Generals Jones and Robertson were to remain behind to guard the gaps in the Confederate army as they traveled through the Shenandoah.
Just after midnight, the troopers moved out, four abreast, riding through the cover of darkness.
“I’m tired as an old work mule,” John complained.
“I’m bored out of my gourd,” said Michael.
David was too tired to respond, and Renegade plodded wearily beneath him like he was in a trance.
They rode throughout the day and into the night. Just past midnight, word came down the line, passed from rider to rider.
“The Bluecoats are blockin’ the road ahead. We have to detour.”
The riders turned north toward Glasscock Gap in the Bull Run Mountains.
When morning sunlight finally penetrated the gap, they were traveling single file down a road no wider than a wagon. On each side, limestone rocks formed precipices of immense height. Trickling fountains sprung out from the crevices, and trees formed a dark canopy above them, so thick that rays of sunlight could only penetrate in a few places. The clatter of thousands of hooves, the creak of leather, and the clank of steel reverberated off the rocky walls. The thought crossed David’s mind that the narrow passage they were in could be a mighty tomb for all of them if the enemy trapped them in this unforgiving place, but he kept his horrible thoughts to himself.
They made their way through the gap, which took all morning. Around noon, they encountered Yankee infantry, so they fired at the Federal soldiers who marched by. The column of passing footmen was massive, spreading from north to south as far as the eye could see.
Scouts reported that every road in the area was filled with marching Union soldiers. With no other recourse, General Stuart decided to fall back into the mountains for the night.
Rain fell throughout the following day. The Rebel troopers circled southeast and found a clear path near Fairfax Court House, where “Fighting” Joe Hooker’s Union headquarters had recently been located. That night, they camped southwest of the courthouse.
David was called to picket duty once again, so he dutifully mounted up. Riding out into the darkness, he heard a fiddler softly playing “All Quiet Along the Potomac Tonight.” The song, about the death of a picket, caused a chill to run down his spine.
Riding far from camp, he met up with a few other pickets. Soon, he wandered away and came to an appropriate, lone position.
“Whoa,” he said in a low, soft voice.
He gently pulled back on Renegade’s reins. A cool breeze rustled through the trees. The moon above cast long, dark shadows across the ground. It was deathly quiet; not even a cricket chirped.
David shivered. Deciding to move around for warmth, he slid from the saddle, but stumbled in the dark. He noticed a round white rock, so he knelt down and picked it up. Oddly, it was much lighter than a rock. He turned it in his hands. Empty eye sockets bore into him, and the bony teeth grinned at him from death. Impulsively, he screamed and tossed the human skull away in panic, which sent it flying over the field. Horrified, he suddenly became aware his surroundings.
Long white bones stuck out from mounds of dirt that at one point must have served as makeshift graves. Weathered woolen uniforms and knapsacks, still intact, clung to the skeletal remains. Cannonballs sat scattered about, an eerie reminder of what had happened here.
Realizing he was in a terrible graveyard, he shuddered. For some reason, the Yankee whose head he’d lopped off popped into his head. He glanced around, expecting the headless soldier to ride out of the darkness and attack him. An owl hooted. David nearly jumped out of his skin. Anxious to depart the frightening scene, he hurried back to Renegade, mounted, and prompted his colt to trot.
For the rest of the night, David walked Renegade along the side of a road and carefully avoided the horrible scene of death. He had no need for coffee. His fright kept him wide awake.
When he returned to camp the next morning, he told Custis what he’d seen, and how he had held a dead man’s skull in his hand, just like in a scene from Hamlet.
“Oh, that must be what’s left of those poor fellers who fought over yonder last year. We’re right close to Manassas. You didn’t know that, did you, Summers?”
Wide-eyed, David shook his head.
Custis giggled. “Reckon you got a good scare, then!” He guffawed.
David scowled and strode away. He wanted to get some sleep before the orders were given to march again, so he managed to doze for a few hours before the alert came through the camp to proceed north.
General Hampton’s brigade led the way toward Fairfax Station. General Stuart, in his usual regal grandeur, galloped past them. He soon returned, ordering a charge, and the cavaliers followed their “Beau Sabreur” with unquestioning devotion. They encountered a Yankee detachment of cavalry and captured the entire regiment. Learning the Bluebellies hailed from New York, David asked one of his captives what the state was like.
“It’s the most beautiful place you’d ever care to see,” the Yankee informed him. “The trees turn the brightest colors in autumn, and the girls are all pretty and eager to keep you warm during the cold winter months!” The young man in blue smiled, seemingly unconcerned he was a prisoner, which caused his captors to scoff.
“Well, maybe I’ll git up there someday,” David said, “because I wouldn’t mind seein’ those pretty girls!”
They exchanged chuckles.
The captives were taken to the back but were later released on parole. David understood then why the Yankee soldier had been so unconcerned about his capture. He had known he wouldn’t be a prisoner for long.
The cavaliers rode to Fairfax Station. Upon arrival, they were allowed to help themselves to the abandoned sutlers’ shacks. In a flurry, they swarmed down on the goods and devoured them eagerly, indulging in ginger cakes, lobster salad, wine, ale, and whiskey while their horses grazed. It was the first real sustenance they’d consumed in quite some time, since both passing armies had already trampled and used up the land David and his comrades traveled over. The Rebel riders found gloves, hats, and shiny new boots as well, and immediately put them to use.
They resumed their march, continuing on into the night. Exhaustion forced them into more frequent stops and slowed their forward progress.
Around 3:00 a.m., they reached the Potomac River, crossing at Rowser’s Ford. The wide, ominous river roared at them.
“Gentlemen,” one of the officers commanded. “Dismount and lead your animals across.”
The horsemen obeyed. They waded out into the black water. David did the same, but as soon as he set foot in the rushing water, shockwaves ran through him. The icy water was much colder and deeper than he had imagined. Mimicking the other troopers, he held his ammunition above his head while he made his way across. The water threatened to rush up over his shoulders. He glanced back at Renegade, who held is head high to avoid the water. One man ahead of David was nearly swept away by the current, but he managed to free himself and get across. Some of the mules brayed in complaint but quieted under the roar of the rushing water. Finally, David reached the opposite bank and struggled to keep his footing. He comforted Renegade, and wondered if either one of them could endure much more. Shivering, drenched and dripping, he watched the rest of the cavalry follow. Braying mules lurched and strained. Some were nearly pulled into the current. The ambulances, after much difficulty, lumbered across. The guns almost went beneath the water, but the mules managed to pull the heavy artillery up and through the river. Amazingly, after over an hour, Hampton’s brigade succeeded in crossing the wide river without any loss of men or munitions.
The troopers were now in Maryland, on Yankee soil. Following orders, they burned barges and mutilated boats. David didn’t mind, since they belonged to the Yankees. The men set about their destructive task with all seriousness, for they knew they could be attacked at any moment. After they carried out their orders, they were allowed to sleep for a few hours before resuming their march.
While they traveled, the commanding officers passed the word to be on the lookout for free and escaped slaves, and to capture blacks they came across. Freedmen, or contraband, were to be returned to slavery. In accordance with President Davis’ declaration on May 1, several weeks before, black soldiers who were caught fighting for the Union side were to be taken as prisoners of war. The declaration authorized their punishment; even their deaths.
The Confederates rode into Maryland. Along the route, they pillaged fields and knocked down telegraphic links connecting the army with the capital. They came upon the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal, and wrought as much damage to it as they possibly could. A few hours later, they tore up the Baltimore and Ohio rail line leading to Frederick. By mid-afternoon, they passed through Williamsport, and captured several wagons and teams from the enemy they encountered.
They reached Rockville. This being Sunday, the townsfolk were dressed in their church-going finery. As the cavalry proceeded through, sympathizers to the Southern cause waved Confederate flags and cheered from upper windows and side streets. Hampton’s brigade came upon an all-girl seminary. David and his comrades found themselves immediately surrounded by pretty young ladies in brightly-colored dresses. The cavaliers graciously accepted the girls’ admiring glances. Many of the young women waved small, improvised Confederate flags, sheet music, and handkerchiefs, while others requested souvenir buttons from the soldiers’ uniforms.
The butternut coat David wore wasn’t equipped with elaborate brass buttons. Disappointed none of the fair maidens noticed him, he could only watch while they chatted, flirted, and pinned ribbons on the uniformed troopers while asking where they were from. Some of the horse soldiers exaggerated, claiming to be from various Southern states, thus convincing the young ladies that they represented every state in the Confederacy.
A girl in a lavender cotton dress with purple ribbons in her long, dark brown hair walked over to David.
“We are so very proud of you boys,” she said, flashing a smile so radiant his heart melted.
Returning a shy smile, he replied, “Why, thank you, miss.”
Custis and John snickered, amused by his reaction.
The girl held her hand up to him. “My name’s Rebecca. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
He hesitated for a moment, then gently took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m David,” he half-whispered, causing his comrades to chuckle even louder.
“I was wonderin’, Mr. David, if you’d be so kind as to cut me off a piece of your hair.”
He gave her a questioning look.
“As a memento, of course,” she added. She brought her other hand from behind her back and handed him a pair of scissors.
Remembering the character from Ivanhoe of the same name, he wondered if this Rebecca was also a sorceress, and what intentions or spells she had in store for his hair. He could certainly see how brave men would fight for her honor. Grinning bashfully, he took the scissors from her and politely snipped off a lock.
As though reading David’s thoughts, Custis asked Rebecca, “Whatcha fixin’ to do with it?”
Rebecca looked over at him, still smiling. Custis’ quizzical expression faded, and a slight, enchanted smile crossed his lips.
“Why, I do believe I’ll make a bouquet with it, frame it, and hang it up in my bed chamber.”
John raised his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth curling beneath his beard. He and Custis both looked at David, as did Rebecca, who flashed her same disarming smile at him. David could feel his face blushing. Once again, the other two soldiers chuckled at his reaction.
“Thank you kindly, dear David,” Rebecca said. She handed him a sweet before pursuing another long-haired cavalier.
David sat stunned atop Renegade. For a moment, he couldn’t hear anything but his own heart thumping in his ears. A trooper from the 2nd South Carolina rode in, bringing David back to reality.
“There’s a supply train comin’ this way,” the trooper alerted them. “Sent from Washin’ton City. We reckon it’s intended for Hooker’s army.”
The horsemen quickly pulled themselves away from their admirers and spurred after their quarry. It wasn’t long before they caught up to the wagon train. Hungrily anticipating a feast, they whooped, screamed, and gave the Rebel yell. The surprised Union teamsters started to flee in panic. Some turned off onto side roads, while others at the end of the wagon train quickly reeled around and thundered back toward the capital. The raiders descended upon the frightened wagon masters, kicking up dust as they ran. They slashed their reins, produced pistols, and proceeded to gun down the teams and drivers, whose terrified mules galloped with such fury that the teamsters lost control. As a result, their wagons overturned, spilling their contents and flipping the mules onto their backs. Other wagons behind them collided, causing a pileup, and making it much easier for the Rebels to surround and contain them. The teamsters ahead of the collision lashed their mules mercilessly and barreled back toward Washington, but the Confederate cavalrymen pursued.
As Renegade thundered ahead, David leaned down from the saddle and slammed the butt of his Enfield rifle on the ground to pack the powder, shooting at the retreating wagons as he came upright. Once again in the race, Renegade’s gait was quick and smooth. For a moment, David marveled at the phenomenon. It was almost as if his little horse could fly. He nearly caught up with the end wagon before reaching a ridge. Pulling back on the reins, David abruptly forced Renegade to stop. The wagons escaped and vanished down the road to the capital.
From the hillcrest, David and his fellow cavaliers could see the unfinished dome of the Capitol Building, and all of Washington City around it. They were too close to enemy territory. David made a sharp turn and galloped back to the captured wagons. The others followed. Troopers from Chambliss’ brigade were already raiding the wagons of ham, sugar, bread, bacon, and whiskey. David and his comrades managed to filch some of the ham before being run off.
Stuart’s cavalry proceeded to take inventory of the newly-acquired bounty. The U.S. Army wagons were brand new, the harnesses were in use for the very first time, and the mules were fat and sleek. Of the 150 wagons they had chased down, 125 of them had been captured, along with 900 mules and 400 teamsters.
The Yankees were paroled that evening and released after they vowed not to return to duty as Union soldiers. The Rebel troopers fed their own horses the oats they had obtained, righted overturned wagons, and burned damaged ones. At sundown, they resumed their march north, but constant drizzle, compounded by the added hindrance of their captured wagons, made the journey painfully slow. As the Rebels traveled twenty miles to Cooksville, exhaustion ate away at them.
“Destroy the enemy’s main war artery,” General Stuart commanded.
His cavaliers demolished six miles of track, rolling stock, and station buildings belonging to the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. By the time they were finished, the oppressive summer heat bore down on them.
A train rumbled toward them. The troopers heard it and ran for their horses in hopes of capturing and destroying the engine, but the alert engineer noticed danger ahead of him, so he pulled on the brakes.
The locomotive screeched until it came to a halt. Reversing direction, it disappeared around a bend before the Rebels could catch up to it. Several other trains appeared, but those engineers also observed trouble and escaped.
The cavaliers continued on to Sykesville, where they burned a bridge and cut telegraph wires. They resumed their march, bivouacking that night near Westminster.
David shared the ham he had acquired with his messmates. While the men settled in, worn out and dusty, his mind began to wander. He thought of Jake, and how he would have reveled in the day’s excitement. Exchanging flirtations with the young women at the school would have delighted him, no doubt, and the Rebels’ merry chase in capturing the wagon train would have had him talking about it for days. Instead, David was alone with his feelings, for it was difficult to speak about personal things with his fellow troopers, even with John and Michael. It just wasn’t the same as confiding in his best friend. His heart ached with the realization Jake had been gone for nearly two months.
Pulling the pocket watch out, he clicked the cover open. There was Callie, staring back at him, radiant as ever. The sight of her face gave him some comfort. Hopefully, she was waiting for his return. He wondered if she had received his letter by now, informing her of Jake’s untimely death. He wished for some word from home, but knew it wasn’t likely to happen, since they were on the march. Lying down, he choked back sob, and closed his eyes. Exhaustion quickly overtook him.
Enter for your chance to win a free copy of my new book, Fool’s Gold Folly! I will be holding this contest for a week. All you have to do is shoot me an email with the word “contest” in the subject line. My email address is jdrhawkins@gmail.com. The winner will be announced next week. Good luck!
Four of my books, A Beautiful Glittering Lie, A Beckoning Hellfire, A Rebel Among Us, and Double-Edged Sword, are being featured in an article appearing on INSCMagazine. These are the first four books in the Renegade Series, which tell the story of a family from north Alabama and how the Civil War impacts them. Here is the link to that article:
Stay tuned for more news coming up! I’ll be working on a couple of podcasts next week, as well as more articles and features. Thank you all so very much for your ongoing support!
I recently received another awesome review for my new book, Fool’s Gold Folly. This novella goes along with the Renegade Series, and tells the story of Patrick Mulligan, an Irish immigrant who travels west to Colorado in search of gold. Once he arrives in Breckenridge with his family, he discovers that there is more going on than just gold mining and becomes involved in a mystery and adventure he never expected. Thank you so much, US Review of Books, for your review!
“Sure’n ye can’t take it with ye…. But ye can certainly enjoy i t while ye’re here!”
– US Review of Books
In a story set after the Civil War, readers meet Patrick, a man who wants the best for his family. His parents died when he was a child back in Ireland. When he comes of age, he emigrates to America, works on a farm in Pennsylvania, and meets the love of his life, as well as his best friends. But a controversy on the farm convinces him that he could fare better out West. In Colorado, he joins a group of Irish gold miners. Silas, an outlier of the group, takes Patrick under his wing and into his confidence.
The threads of this novella are woven into one tight plot. Patrick is caught between his past on the farm (where a controversy still looms), waiting to strike a vein of gold in the present, and the yet-to-be-revealed inheritance Silas leaves him. These each inform how Patrick works toward building a new home for his family. A few choice details, such as signs on Denver City storefronts prohibiting Irish job applicants, the brogue accents coupled with the Western drawl of those who do welcome Patrick and family, and the mysterious top-hatted figure Patrick spots and about whom Silas warns him, evoke vivid scenes the adventurous narrative moves through with swiftness. Letters from Pennsylvania explain the controversy in the characters’ own words: Patrick’s friend, a Confederate soldier in Yankee land, is unduly blamed for a crime. Rebels and underdogs with ambition in common form the plot’s basis.
The characters display heroism and virtue in unconventional and wily ways. As such, the book keeps with the rest of Hawkins’ oeuvre of Civil War stories from a Confederate perspective. Although deferential, Patrick’s wife works hard to ensure her children aren’t taken advantage of by her boss (also their landlady). Patrick looks up to his mentor, Silas, but Silas is not entirely admirable. Sick and unwilling to get help, he unpredictably enters the bar where Patrick works when not mining. He doesn’t get around to telling Patrick all the secrets he promises to reveal. The promise Patrick makes Silas on his deathbed puts Patrick in a bind. The expense of keeping his word to Silas is keeping a secret from his wife. Knowing the law is not always on their side and that danger lurks, Patrick and his wife keep guns handy. The characters define a new kind of exciting and thought-provoking convention, taking the rules into their own hands.
In a twist, Patrick learns after Silas dies that maybe his friend wasn’t exactly who he said he was. As the title implies, this is a humorous tale. However, Patrick isn’t the butt of the joke. For example, he can laugh at how Silas uses him to get revenge because Patrick also benefits. The fool goes unnamed, an inside joke the reader and Patrick understand. As historical fiction, this book is an insight into the specific hardships, landscape, and inequalities of the Wild West and carries a timeless message. Research about dress, culture, and morays courtesy of Colorado historical organizations is evident and acknowledged. Each chapter begins with a quote about gold mining as a metaphor, suggesting that the story is a parable whose message is both comic and a nugget of wisdom.
I have been receiving more amazing reviews for my new book, Fool’s Gold Folly: A Story of Irish Resilience. This book tells the story of an Irish immigrant, Patrick Mulligan, and what he goes through when he decides to travel to Colorado Territory in 1869 to search for gold. I also wanted to let you know that the book is being featured on Book Luver’s newsletter this weekend,
Thank you so much, Ashlyn and L DeRollo, for your flattering reviews. And thank you for supporting me in my writing endeavors. I couldn’t do it without you!
“Fool’s Gold Folly” by J.D.R. Hawkins is a touching historical tale that highlights the hardships faced by Irish immigrants during the gold rush era. Blending heartfelt storytelling with rich cultural detail, the novel captures the endurance and hope of people chasing better lives.
The setting feels authentic and the characters bring warmth and depth to the journey. With a touch of mystery and emotional insight, the story delivers a rewarding read. It beautifully balances historical facts with personal stories with a meaningful glimpse into the human spirit.
A very exciting, heartfelt, and suspenseful tale! I really like the underlying message about the importance of love and family, which is at the heart of the story. This is what drives main character Patrick Mulligan to persevere when in the midst of danger while searching the goldmines in Colorado to try to make it rich. Is the price of gold worth the danger involved? Can he keep his family safe? The characters in this story are very well-developed, relatable, and expressive. I can picture them perfectly in real life! The rural historical setting is perfect for this story and reflects both the need for survival, the “fool’s gold” mindset, simplicity, and a strong sense of community. Recommended.
My new novella, Fool’s Gold Folly: A Story of Irish Resilience, is being featured now on BookGoodies. The book tells the story of one of the minor characters in the Renegade Series, Patrick Mulligan, and how he and his family travel west to Colorado Territory in search of gold. Here is the link and a portion of the post so you can check out the page:
I recently received another review for my new book, Fool’s Gold Folly. The novella is a side story to go along with the Renegade Series, and tells the story of one of the minor characters in the series, Patrick Mulligan. Patrick decides to take his family to Colorado Territory following the Civil War in pursuit of gold and experiences many adventures along the way. Thank you very much, Jason Lulos, for your awesome review!
And in other news, it isn’t too late to enter for your chance to win an eBook copy of Fool’s Gold Folly from Goodreads! Here is the link:
“A simple, lovely story which almost reads like a fairy tale.”
– Hollywood Book Reviews
Fool’s Gold Folly: A Story of Irish Resilience is a charming tale depicting the trials and tribulations of an immigrant’s experience in the American West during the years following the American Civil War. It has qualities of realism, and, with a good bit of wholesome morality, it is a story which could certainly be described as a fable. Set amidst the Colorado Gold Rush, it felt like a western with settings in mining towns and saloons. The plight of the immigrant pursuing the American Dream is the theme driving the plot. But the story is much more of a morality tale about perseverance, honesty, and hope.
Patrick Mulligan and his wife, Briana, are both from County Donegal, Ireland. Though they did not know each other in the old country, they met after emigrating to the states in the 1850’s. After marrying in Pennsylvania, they moved to Denver City and then to Breckenridge to try pursuing their fortunes in the famed gold rush. They simply need to get there and stake their claim. Along with their children, Keegan and Kathleen, and their faithful dog, Shannon, they meet plenty of obstacles. “No Irish Need Apply” is a common phrase to them, making it difficult to obtain employment and lodging. But they are resilient. Despite all the hardships of intolerance and frontier life, their optimism never wanes. They inevitably find help along the way, largely from fellow Irish immigrants. During their journey from Denver City to hopes of finding gold in Breckenridge, they meet many widows, and a wise, sick old man named Silas Garvey. Encountering such people only makes them more grateful for what they have with each other, little though it may be.
This story is peppered with time-tested bits of wisdom that accompany each setback and success. Such is the nature of a good fable. At around 90 pages, this is a short read. Yet it is full of positive messages giving some depth to this moral novella. The book is well written, and its minimalism is poignant: no words wasted. It’s a simple, lovely story which almost reads like a fairy tale. It’s a story about hope despite intolerance and cultural and physical deterrents. It reframes the notion of the American Dream from the pursuit of wealth to a journey of being grateful for more important things: family, love, and the simple life.
Fool’s Gold Folly is a heartwarming story that will appeal to all readers looking for a bit of fabled positivity, it is a nice escape and quite easy to read in one sitting.
Last week, I received this awesome review from Readers’ Favorite for my new book, Fool’s Gold Folly. The novella tells the story of Patrick Mulligan, an Irish immigrant who decides to try his luck at striking it rich during the gold rush to Colorado Territory in 1869. This book goes along with the Renegade Series. Thank you so much, Readers’ Favorite, for your awesome review!
Reviewed by Erick Ramos for Readers’ Favorite
Fool’s Gold Folly: The Renegade Series by J. D. R. Hawkins is about Patrick Mulligan and his family. They were Irish immigrants and had moved from Pennsylvania to Denver City, Colorado, in search of a better life. Sadly, they were met with the hostility of anti-Irish prejudice: “No Irish Need Apply.” These circumstances made it difficult for them to make a living or get better jobs. Luckily, they met a kind Irish widow, Mrs. O’Neill, who helped them with accommodation and guided them in getting jobs. They eventually find their way to Breckenridge with a group of people hoping to find gold. Patrick gets close to his fellow travelers, and they begin to build a life with hard work, labor, and hope. Would Patrick be lucky enough to find gold? Read Fool’s Gold Folly to find out.
Fool’s Gold Folly takes place after the American Civil War, a time when Irish immigrants faced discrimination and struggled to get employment. This made life difficult, and they had to work harder to make a living. The flow of the book was perfect, and kept me engaged in Patrick’s journey, which was mainly about survival, perseverance, and living a fulfilling life. The conversations felt natural and touched on different cultures. Some aspects were challenging on their journey, like when they were confronted by Indians and the gold claims. I like Patrick the most; he is a family man, and his humility stood out. He took on jobs that could be considered low-level, such as mucking out stalls, to care for his loving and supportive wife, Briana. I loved reading about Mr. Gallagher, Mrs. O’Neill, and Silas because of the support they gave the Mulligans in terms of accommodation, guidance, and jobs. Fool’s Gold Folly explores themes of resilience, family, hope, determination, and more. The use of the Irish dialect helped me connect with the story and made it unique. Fool’s Gold Folly offers an authentic plot, historical facts, and educational value.
J.D.R. Hawkins 