Daughter of Romance Pt. 2

Hi there!  It's Edith Layton's daughter Susie here again.  In my last post, I shared photos and memories about what is was like growing up as my mommy morphed into some lady named Layton.

Wow, it was such a great post.  Really really amazing.  You should all read it again and again.

For part the second, I promised you tales of romance conferences, my gazillion prepubescent research trips to England and the tale of why I helped throw mom her second-ever book party 30 novels later.

But you know the saying "brevity is the soul of wit"?  Well brevity is also the soul of OMGits10pmIjustfinishedwriting4mydayjobbrainischeese.

So, I think this time, I'm just going to talk about research trips I was dragged on to ol' Blighty.  We'll tackle the other topics another time.

OK.  I've just poured myself a glass of cheap-o 2005 Bordeaux -- let's roll!

How about some pictures?   Yay!   On the right, you see Edith Layton sometime in the 80's.  In this photo, one can clearly see her steely resolve to visit each and every historical site in England.  Posing on the walls of York, her jammin' Pat Benetar haircut says, "Love is a Battlefield and I will cut anyone who gets in my way of visiting anything with a plaque and every Perkin Warbeck urinal from here to Penzance."

I know what you're thinking.  "How sharper than a serpent's tooth this child is!  What an ingrate!  She was lucky enough to be whisked all over the UK and has nothing but disdain and mockery for dear mum?"

OK, no.  That's not true. I loved many -- nay most -- of the places we visited. 

Castles were the best.  Loved the ruins and we stayed in many that had shored up their battlements and turned a buck as hotels in England, Scotland and Wales.  Second to castles were museums.  Then cathedrals.  We couldn't miss those.  Quite interesting.  Although when you're fourteen years old and on your umpteem chilly crypt, you tend to get a tad cranky.  Of course then there were small village churches, where, if you were very unlucky, mom would find some arthritic man running the parish who would then be interrogated about his knowledge of somebody who hung out there 200 years ago. 

Oh and then there were the pilgrimages to ancient stone circles in the middle of nowhere.  Pre-GPS, actually finding one of these rumored stone circles buried within the fog of the mountains and the sheep exhalations was nearly impossible.  And once you got there, you clambered over a stile to tip toe over ewe poo to drink in the drama and mystery of rocks that looked like Stonehenge if it were engineered by mice.

 See that picture on the left?  That there is the late 80's.  My brothers had both gone off to college and my parents kindly brought my great friend Mary with me.  I'm not sure where this was taken.  Mary recently uploaded it to Facebook.  But, what you can clearly see is that we are likely the only visitors to a castle yet we looked like some sort of Cagney and Lacey/Flock of Seagulls trainwreck.  And at that age, hyped up on New Wave as we were, we set out on each crypt-filled research adventure with outfits made of synthetics and hair moussed into next week, hoping against hope some dreamy British rock star-ish type would amble by.

Let me say from bitterness experience, that more hot men can be found in a small convent than are passionately researching the Regency in all the rutabaga-sized towns of England.

And why always England?  I begged to go to France, Spain, Latvia -- anywhere but another trip to the land of a thousand historic homes with psychotically perfect gardens selling dainty flowered items.

On the flip side of kvetching, we did meet wonderfully nice people and we stayed at some amazing places.  Thatched cottages  galore in the Lake District, at the Grosvenor House in a suite so big I couldn't believe it was a hotel, in manors with bathtubs so deep they should've come with a snorkel. And yes, those fabulous castles, many of whom served continental breakfast in the dungeon, making you feel you were living a Monty Python sketch.

Of course the joke's on me.  All those trips to England obviously brainwashed me.  Because while happily enjoying my cosmopolitan crypt-less and thatch-free life in NYC -- I met and fell in love with and eventually married a Brit. 
He even lived in a thatched cottage for a time and his family has a coat of arms, which I made into a onesie for our son.  I took that charming thatch roof pub pic you see here on our last visit to see his family.  Also, it's in our pre-nup that if he ever loses the accent -- it's over!

So although my mother thinks she's had the last laugh, just wait. I have no doubt I will enthusiastically drag our boy around more stately homes than you can shake a stick at.

OK lovely Wench readers!  If you've made it this far, put on your silver cape, shake it off and pat yourselves on the back.  Once you've recovered, leave a comment and say hi! 

xoxo,

Susie

PS If you are looking for more blogtainment, please visit www.dumbasablog.com which is just one of my online endeavors!

More importantly, me mum's latest book, A BRIDE FOR HIS CONVENIENCE is out now! Buy buy buy it, then read, then, it stores easily on most any bookshelf.  Easy peasy!

Comments

[Helen]

Susie
I really enjoyed the post as I did the last one I wished I could go touring around England and Scotland maybe one day, but your adventures sound wonderful. Thanks for sharing

Have Fun
Helen

[liz m]

The pressure of the firstborn son, reminded of his position before he can even drool.... (Hey, I tried to get my girls engaged before they left preschool. Why wait?) I got lucky on my trips to England - lovely, lovely young men everywhere. I could reveal the countries lacking the scenery - but why make them feel more inferior than they already do?

I just take my kids to Disney. One day they're going to blog about never getting a turkey leg. And finding out they've been on a roof all these years.

[Janice]

Forget about all this yada yada travel stuff and tell us more about the (no doubt) hunky Brit you married :)

[LadyDoc]

Another delightful post!

[Linda Banche]

Great post, and, yes, I already bought your mother's book.

[Fedora]

Thanks, Susie! That was terrific, too! And what an awesome onesie! And ditto what Janice said--more about this lovely husband of yours! ;)

[Janga]

I too bought the book, which I plan to read ASAP and then shelve with all my other Layton keepers.

And I love the onesie. My #2 nephew commented Thanksgiving, as the newest custom-printed baby tees were being unveiled for his six-week-old niece, that he was thankful no one would have pictures of him wearing such shirts. I reminded him that we did have pictures of him wearing nothing. That shut him up. :)

[Maya M.]

well I'm feeling relieved now because a) I write contemporary and b) I have ascene set in Disneyworld. There is hope my sons won't be talking about 'ewe poo' and 'rutabaga-sized towns' when they think of me!*g*

[MaryJoPutney]

ROFL! What a magnificent discription of what life is like when being dragged around by a research crazed Regency writer. :) I can appreciate it even though I was the dragger, not the draggee.

>>Although when you're fourteen years old and on your umpteem chilly crypt, you tend to get a tad cranky. <<

Once can see your point. :) But despite the sufferings of the dungeons, you sure collected great material to write about today!

Mary Jo

[Billy Kaiser]

Susie: Loved both posts. I have one of your mom's books around here somewhere. I proudly bought it on one of our youthful sojourns. You are both ladies of the word and the world (or at least myriad historical locales in England). :) -Billy

[Susie]

Thanks for ALL the fabulously nice comments! Means a lot to me. :)

[liz m]

You know, this is just One More Thing you've done for your mom that Your Brothers, Who Mean Well, But Really, have not done.

I think you need an extra package during a certain upcoming eight day party. Don't you?

[Anne]

Susie, this expecially cracked me up: "Love is a Battlefield and I will cut anyone who gets in my way of visiting anything with a plaque and every Perkin Warbeck urinal from here to Penzance." and
"sheep exhalations". But the rest was pretty funny, too. :) I also had to cringe in sympathy for the late-80's hair-do and clothes with your friend. I've been there, my friend.
Thanks for sharing again.

[Mike Felber]

Finally I find this. Greatly evocative fodder for fond remembering. Thank you Susie.

[Nancy Zierfuss]

Dear Susie,

I just saw the news about your mom's passing, and wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss.

Edith Layton has been one of my favorite authors for years and years, and I would use her books as a standard against which to measure other authors. (In fact, I started reading Mary Balogh because her name appeared on a "try a new author list" opposite "If you like Edith Layton, you might like -")

I am going to miss her lovely stories and I think I have a mission to re-read all of the early ones.

Also absolutely loved this story of yours, you are just too funny!

I well remember how it is to be in your teens, and while loving your parents, think their interests are pretty lame.
My folks once took me on a three week trip through New England looking through 1,752 moldy antique stores. :- )

Unfortunately, I wasn't even cool enough to channel an 80s hair band - this was 1964 and the Beach Boys were duking it out with the Beatles.

Thanks for sharing your memories, Suzie, and keep the funny stuff coming!