From Loretta:
I carry ear plugs with me most everywhere I go.
A while back, my husband needed some oral surgery. We walked into the waiting area and one of those satellite radio stations was blasting the current version of Musak through the room. It was really LOUD. I go to a medical office for some high tech test and there’s a television on. LOUD. Why are there televisions in medical areas? Haven’t any of the doctors read about how noise increases stress levels?
Am I the only one who thinks the world needs more quiet? Am I the only one who longs for the days when all one heard in a waiting room was the rustling of pages as people thumbed through well-thumbed magazines from the previous year, 118 BC?
The day of the oral surgery, I brought a book, knowing I’d be there for some time, waiting. What do other people do? Listen to the really bad music coming over a mediocre sound system? I mean, not everyone likes the same music. So who is it being played for? And why is it so LOUD? How do they expect people to read even magazines that require no brain processing whatsoever when there’s some awful radio station blaring in their ears? If I had not had my ear plugs with me, I would have driven home and got them. But they were there, in my pocketbook the size of Chicago, and I stuck them in my ears, and though I could still hear the so-called music, my skull had stopped vibrating.
Color me puzzled. These are medical facilities. Why would they think that people in pain or in some degree of anxiety about a test (we are most of us anxious when a test impends, even if we’re sure we can ace it) or awaiting a loved one undergoing a procedure, minor or major, want to hear LOUD music or LOUD TV programs? Is the noise supposed to drown out the anxieties, deaden the pain, distract us? Because, if that is the case, it’s not working for me. It’s driving me INSANE.
Or do they simply assume that the majority of the population blew out its eardrums in adolescence and therefore cannot hear anything lower in volume than Spinal Tap 11?
I was pondering these and other questions last week, when the power went out.
Which is why you didn’t hear from me at all and Mary Jo had to put up that little forlorn figure.
I was doing--not by choice--some time travel. Back to the days when there was no electricity. When you notice things, like how dark it gets at 3pm on an overcast day and how really dark it can be by 4pm when it starts snowing. And how cold the house can get because the heating system, though running on oil, is controlled by an electric thermostat. Even the gas stove has electric fire starter thingies--though it’s possible, fortunately, to start it the old fashioned way, with a match. 
Then you think about how great matches are, and how much trickier it used to be to start fire. I could blog about early 19th century lighting, but that’s maybe for another day. Today is about sound or the lack thereof.
The thing I noticed most about no electricity was the quiet.
My house is usually fairly quiet because I don’t turn on the television or radio or any audio/visual gear during my workday.
But that’s a different quiet.
The thing I noticed, when the power went out, was the lack of humming, that endless hum that’s part of our days because it’s the hum of electrical power, of our computers and clocks and televisions, quiet but alive, humming.
You don’t notice it until it’s gone.
And I wondered, since lots of other people do keep their TVs on or radios or listen to music, whether they don’t really hear that aggravating sound that to me equals Noise because to them it’s become like the background hum of electricity. This made me think of 19th century visitors to Venice, people from London, who couldn’t sleep because Venice was too quiet: no carriages and carts and horses rattling over the pavement day and night.
I loved the silence. The lack of hum was very soothing to my nerves. If only I could have had some light & my computer.
There it is, the price one pays.
Reading by candlelight--or, in my case, battery-powered book light, because lighting candles in my paper-strewn office is an act of suicide--is much harder than reading by bright electric light, especially when you are going back and forth between books and maps, as I was doing, in my research. I tried to work on my MIP--I used to write my stories in longhand, after all--but I am so in the habit now of working at the computer that I’d have to retrain my brain, and that, as I learned when I made the switch to computer years ago, takes weeks, not minutes.
Plus, it was cold day, and the house grew colder as they day wore on, and as it wore on, it grew darker, as days will do. And the frustration of being stymied in all my daily tasks made it hard to get anything accomplished. To up the frustration factor, the electric company kept changing the estimated time of power restoration. 
We began in the morning with an optimistic prediction of 10am that soon deteriorated to 6pm, then skulked to 7pm, then--at 7:05pm--slunk to 8pm, at which point homicidal thoughts entered my brain.
When the power came back on at about 7:10pm, happiness washed through me, all warm and bright, like...electricity.
And yet, for all the miseries of that day, I still recall with pleasure the silence. And today, and probably for a while to come, I’m conscious of the hum about me, a hum my characters would surely notice and wonder at, and probably find exceedingly annoying, if not spooky.
And what of you? I know you’re readers or you wouldn’t be reading this blog. Being a reader, do you prize quiet? Or does it not matter? Can you tune out the loud of our lives? Does quiet please you or trouble you? How many people use ear plugs? Please raise your hands.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
The Sounds of Silence
The Reading Habit
Wednesday, and Susan Sarah here...
Rushing through the last bit of my current WIP, moving in hyperspeed, zooming through drafts and last-minute research, and looking longingly at my TBR pile -- which has been sadly neglected for too long -- I got to thinking about reading =speed= -- the simple state of reading fast or slow.
I tend to be a pretty quick reader, when the focus is there and I have the quiet and the time for reading. This is particularly true with nonfiction. I can fly through research books at a lightning pace, scribbling notes as I go, and enough info seems to stick, probably due to ingraining a research-and-notes habit through years of graduate school, that I don't have to read it again, though I use the notes as a refresher as I get further into writing the book. With online research, I can fly through reading on screens, if the material is well organized, and though online research is a fantastic resource--especially for visual research, or quick-hit information--I am a bookaholic. If I can do the research in a book, I will. I love books--the smell of pages and binding, the weight of them, turning pages, skimming, scanning, dipping and reading. I am not keen on reading onscreen, being a bit light sensitive, but I will do it if I have no other choice.
Years ago I took a reading improvement course, not a speed-reading course per se, but one called PhotoReading, which takes a whole-brain approach to reading: the entrainment is geared to allow the eyes and brain to work together to absorb information from the book efficiently and quickly, according to the ways the brain works best, rather than the eyes doing a speed-racing trick to dump the information into the brain. Considering all the research I did in graduate school and as a writer of historicl fiction, the reading course was a big help, and I still use the techniques, and though my skills are a bit stale they still work for me. But I find it more useful for nonfiction and research than fiction, because of reading styles and preferences.
I don't want to fly through reading fiction--I want to savor it. Reading can be an art form in itself, the enjoyment of the physical book, the pages, the relaxation of getting cozy and comfy and settling down to a great book, and a great reading experience. That's the way I read fiction when I have time. But reality does have its bite...and more often than not I am flying through a novel when I really want to take time to read it carefully.
As a writer, I know what goes into the crafting of a novel, and ideally I'd like to give all my attention to any book that I'm reading. I already have quite a to-be-read pile to go through, and there are always more books coming up on the radar screen to tempt and distract me, and so while I want to give each book the time and reading energy, it's not always practical or possible. I end up zooming through books, zipping chapter to chapter, skimming passages. And while I can certainly enjoy books that I'm reading at that pace -- I always feel a little unsatisfied when I reach the end.
Then I find myself reaching for more books, and more, zipping through sometimes more than one book a day. I have been known to go on a reading binge, plowing my way through a stack, absorbing stories, characters, and writing styles...not even finishing them, casting them aside and reaching for another, and by day's end, I'm lying sprawled in a mass of books like a crazy drunken sod.
I've realized this leads to more dissatisfaction with the books--reading more and enjoying it less. Often this is not the writer's doing (ok and sometimes it is, just a fact of too many books, the publishing glut) --often it's my own fault. I'm reading too fast. I'm not getting what I need from the story, all the pith of it, the mental, emotional, spiritual nutrition of that book. It's like eating fast food or taking in empty calories--the more I eat, the more I want, because the body is still craving its nutritional needs, and wants more.
I find that if I slow down and really, truly give my attention and respect to what I'm reading, and allow myself the leisure to disappear into the realm of that story and those characters, the reading experience is a lot more satisfying. Yes, it does take me longer, and my TBR pile grows. But I am learning to trim out the chaff, and read what I really want to read, what I most need to read, and not just what's out there, what everyone's reading, what's on the bestseller lists. I still go through my binges--one has to keep up, and reading in a way becomes the bane of a writer--but I have learned that I have to slow down and savor a book. And often, when all conditions are right -- when I have the time, and the book and author's voice are the right fit for me at that moment -- those are the books I cherish, the ones I will never forget.
So, reading habits: I read nonfiction very fast, in a glut of book stacks and notetaking. I read the fiction I need to read pretty fast too, going on a romance or a mystery or a historical fiction bender...and I'm still way behind, because I'm not getting what I want with that approach. So many books, so little time, as someone once wisely said.
And I slow down my reading approach when the book is very good. I slow down...and allow myself to love that book.
How about you all? How fast or slowly do you plow through books, or do you have a different approach depending on the book, as I do? And do you finish every book you read?
~Susan Sarah
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Sex in Publishing
From Pat Rice:
Sharon asks: >> …I occasionally will be reading a book by an author I really like, only to come across a love scene with some things that I'm not particularly comfortable with. In the past when this has happened I have reluctantly cut that author from my automatic TBR list…<snip> …if this is happening because of pressure from the publisher, I hate to "take it out on" the author by swearing off her books. Is there any way to express my views to the publisher if that's where it's coming from (not that they'd probably pay much attention)? Or do I just have to bite the bullet and skip over the parts I don't care for?<<
Ah, Sharon, you’ll be sorry you asked, because it gives me an excuse to ramble on about marketing
and the publishing and entertainment industries today! I can hear my fellow wenches groaning already.
First off, I understand where you’re coming from. In the wild and woolly early days of romance, we could do almost anything with our characters, and the sex in some books could be really raunchy, as long as it was politely encased in euphemisms. Or purple prose, as we so creatively call it now. The days of gratuitous rape, multiple partners, and purple prose fell out of favor as the competition for the topselling spots increased and authors found a wider audience with pure romance, sensuality, and stronger writing. Those are the books you read, Sharon, and the wenches like to write.
Now, it seems, the pendulum is swinging the other direction again. The business has always been cyclical, although the cycles develop in a slightly different sector each time. This time, erotica is 
pushing the pendulum. As I understand it (and I’m known to be wrong, so anyone feel free to correct me), erotica developed “underground” in the e-book publishing world and quickly caught on. Big publishers took notice and began picking up the more popular authors, eventually developing entire lines of erotica. If people buy it, they’ll sell it. That’s what the free market is all about.
But because these erotica authors are doing so well, publishers and authors alike assume sexier books sell better. And looking at the bestseller lists, they can very well be right. I suspect it’s a fifty-fifty case of authors wanting to sell better and writing hotter, and publishers/editors encouraging authors who don’t normally write hot to try it. The carrot of bigger sales is hard to resist. I’ve known perfectly good authors who couldn’t sell a book in the current market until they agreed to write hotter scenes. They didn’t HAVE to write hotter scenes, but they like to eat, too, and if sex scenes put food on the table, they certainly know how to write them.
All of this becomes a snowball rolling downhill. Authors and editors read. A lot. We unconsciously absorb the faster pacing, the hotter scenes, the witty dialogue, all the things currently selling, and they can’t help but influence the ideas fermenting in the back of our minds. Imaginations are dangerous animals. Never underestimate them! If we’re writing a quirky scene that appeals to us and suddenly remember we’ve read something similar elsewhere, then we go out of our way to embellish that scene so it’s exclusively ours. So what may have been a relatively tame scene in one book suddenly becomes hot enough to scorch elsewhere. The collective unconscious almost guarantees that similar ideas will circulate throughout the literary community, morphing and growing and becoming something else as time goes on.
See, aren’t you sorry you asked? <G> I’ll try to refrain from comparing book publishing to the
entertainment industry, but we’re rapidly developing many of the same qualities. The book has to entertain a reading public who has already seen the Titannic sink and space aliens invade the White House. The constant demand for new and different and more violent and sexier drives the market.
In other words, you can blame publishers for part of what you dislike, but you also have to blame authors for trying to put food on the table, and other readers for buying the sexier books in such amounts that we have to meet their demand.
When this cycle first came into play, I continued reading authors who could give me a great story and great characters. If the sex bores me, I skim over it to the wonderful dialogue. But if I’m skimming more pages than I’m reading, I reluctantly set the book aside and do my research the next time that author has a book out. Eventually, a good author will figure out how to make the latest fad work for her, so I keep my confidence that author will eventually return to her roots. In the meantime, I’ll explore all the new avenues and authors springing up everywhere, along with many old favorites who are moving in wonderful new directions. Keep an eye on the wenches because we’ll tell you about our favorites, and chances are you’ll find lots of strong stories among the authors we introduce here.
Personally, I’d save my time and effort and not waste time writing the publishers, but I could be wrong. Has anyone else written to publishers complaining about all the things readers complain about, anything from bad copyediting, bad history, to bad sex? Have you received any response? Admittedly, I’ve had editors send letters questioning some of my research <G>, so they do read them. But has anyone felt their letter had any result?
Monday, February 26, 2007
Going to the Dogs
By Susan/Miranda
We’ve discussed heroes and heroines, of every size and shape, but somehow we’ve neglected supporting characters of the four-legged variety until Edith’s wonderful interview yesterday with 
Barbara Metzger. Clearly great minds think alike *g*, because I, too, thought it was high time we mentioned our canine characters. (As my guest-blog-dog, I’m featuring a King Charles spaniel named Colby that belongs to my daugther’s best friend. I’ve been trying hard to think of a way that the IRS would consider one of Colby’s litter-mates as a legitimate research expense for my Restoration books, but alas, I’m afraid the government’s not that creative.)
From children’s picture-books (Clifford the Big Red Dog) through video versions (Lassie and Homeward Bound), classics (Call of the Wild and Old Yellar) to contemporary bestsellers (Marley and Me), dogs have always been favorites with readers.
And why not? Even the sternest hero will unbend with his dog. Dogs are the most loyal of confidants, never spilling any secrets that our heroines might whisper into their furry ears. Dogs can save the plot-day like Rin-tin-tin, or they can provide the classic “cute meet” between a heroine and a dog-walking hero. Or, as Barbara Metzger has shown in her book, A Loyal Companion, dogs can even be narrators.
There’s considerable historical precedent for dogs in our books, too. English aristocrats that have
always adored their dogs, whether packs of prize hunting dogs, or delicate “lady dogs” to tuck inside a muff. A dog on the lap or the bed offered warmth in a drafty castle or manor house, and less romantically, were recommended to draw away fleas from one’s own person.
The British royal palaces have always had dogs in residence. The current Queen Elizabeth is often photographed at Windsor with a corgi or two trotting beside her. Henry VIII never went riding or hunting without his hounds. Queen Victoria set the fashion for pugs in her reign. The first Queen Elizabeth delighted in her mastiffs, and liked to demonstrate their fierce tenacity and courage with bull and bear-batings staged for visiting foreign dignitaries –– just in case the dignitaries needed to be reminded of those same qualities in her English troops.
Dogs were so much a feature at Whitehall Palace during the 17th century that visitors commented loudly on the numbers of canines roaming the halls. They were also appalled by the doggie-smell that permeated many of the royal chambers, and how the servants didn’t quite keep up with cleaning after the dogs in the staircases and hallways. (Clearly the servants had the same selective blindness to pet-messes that affects my family, too.)
King Charles had such devotion for his flop-eared spaniels that the breed now carries his name, and every day he could be seen striding through St. James’s Park, a very tall (I’m sorry, Mary Jo, but Charles was enormous for his day, well over six feet) man surrounded by a pack of small dogs racing along with him. He was often painted with the dogs, too, beginning with the puppy that’s precariously perched on his infant lap.
Sarah and John Churchill loved their spaniels as well, and there’s a wonderful story (maybe true, maybe not) that while Sarah was waiting for news of John fighting the Battle of Blenheim, she comforted herself by stroking the head of the pregnant bitch sitting in her lap. The battle became one of John’s greatest military victories, and when the puppies were born, each showed a distinctive patch on their forehead that became the mark of the Churchill dogs. Even today, King Charles Cavalier spaniels that carry this marking are much prized as “Blenheims.”
So which dogs –– fictional or historical or even that one blissfully hogging most of the bed –– do you remember most?
Barbara Metzger, HWW!
The Word Wenches would like to thank Barbara Metzger for being our guest!
We are so grateful to Barbara for granting us an interview, and we would like to present her with this esteemed award...
~Barbara, we officially declare you an Honorary Word Wench - and you may add HWW after your signature, with suitable flourish of course
~Please feel more than welcome to return to Word Wenches any time, to comment freely to any post, and if you should feel a hankerin' to promote a book here, let us know!
As a sincere token of our appreciation and admiration, please accept two gifts from us -- this lovely Virtual Fan -- may it always remind you of your special day in Wenchland! ....
And this very special award, never before bestowed -- The Order of the Golden Pooch, in acknowledgement of your role as a wonderful friend to puppies everywhere.... congratulations, Lady Barbara!
luv from,
the Seven Wenches and the Whipster
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Edith Interviews Barbara Metzger
When I first laid eyes on Barbara Metzger, RITA winner (and multi nominated); two-time Romantic Times Career award winner; RT awards for Best Regency; also Golden Leaf; Bookseller's Best, National Reader's Choice and Madcap awards, at a Convention, I hot footed it to her side. My usual shyness evaporated. I adored her books and couldn’t wait to tell her so. She had, after all, written one of my favorite regencies of all time: the brilliant A LOYAL COMPANION, a novel told from both the narrator’s and a dog’s POV. Barbara’s books all have that wonderful originality, wry sense of humor, and appreciation of the foibles and glories of the human condition. And so does she. A good friend and a terrific writer - no more gilding the lily – see for yourself. Heeeeeere’s Barbara!
ELF: Barbara, You are known for your light hearted Regency set novels as well as for your originality. You are, to my knowledge, the only author who has ever told a love story from the heroine's dog's POV. A LOYAL COMPANION has never been surpassed for originality.
BMETZGER: Sure it has: THE PAINTED LADY, AN ANGEL FOR THE EARL; THE HOURGLASS, where the hero is one of the Grim Reaper's assistants. Hey, you are talking to someone who got Elvis into a Regency novella, and wrote a whole Regency novel about Yankees baseball. That's the fun part of writing.
ELF: True. (Though the Yankees were disguised in THE DIAMOND KEY, they were there.) Still, you are amazingly original. Who else would have also written about real angels, portraits that come to life, and Elvis in the Regency? But you had me at dog. I know you love dogs, but what made you think of that?
BMETZGER: I never know where the ideas come from. The Idea Fairy, maybe.
ELF: And is there ever to be a sequel?
BMETZGER: Not soon. I was ready for A CURIOUS COMPANION, the cat's story, when Signet did away with the shorter Regencies, and stopped doing Regency anthologies. It just wouldn't be suitable for a longer historical, dammit.
ELF: Awww. A disappointment. But, in fact, since your coming here was foretold, Gretchen F., a fan of yours, has asked: “Can we look forward to seeing more of (your) her early books re-issued in double volumes?”
BMETZGER: Re. reissues. Signet has no plans for more that I know if. Sorry.
ELF: Double Rats! But let’s move on. Tell us, everyone wants to know: how did you get started writing?
BMETZGER: I was bored and had time and an idea, after reading my mother's Barbara Cartlands. A person can never say "I can do better than that" unless she is willing to try. I got rejected six times before Walker bought my first book.
ELF: And writing Regencies?
BMETZGER: Georgette Heyer, of course, and Clare Darcy, and Barbara Cartland, who made Regencies so accessible. Opinions of her writing and her persona aside, I never thought she got enough credit for popularizing the genre.
ELF: Have you ever written in any other Historical setting or wanted to do so?
BMETZGER: Nope.
ELF: Yet "LOVE, LOUISA" was a charming Contemporary Romance set in a beach community reminiscent of Montauk and the Hamptons, on Long Island.
Will there be another Contemporary for you?
BMETZGER: I hope so.
ELF: I said you are known for your light-hearted novels, but while still full of humor, lately your books are getting deeper and deliciously darker. Why is that?
BMETZGER: Partly because it's too hard to write 400 pages around a sight-gag like THE PRIMROSE PATH (multitudes of dogs) or LADY WHILTON'S WEDDING (disappearing dead uncle's body); partly because readers-- and editors-- seem to want more intensity.(Also dammit.) THE HOURGLASS is a life-or-death situation, literally. I did try to lighten it with a talking crow.
THE HOURGLASS, will be released on March 6. Click to pre-order now!
ELF: You're also writing novels that touch on the paranormal. Are you a fan of Fantasy?
BMETZGER: I love it. The scope of creativity, the flights of fancy, the innovation.
ELF: You are a most creative lady! You're also an artist, and until recently, when you decided to write full-time, you found it a lucrative occupation too.
BMETZGER: More like starving artist, but fun. Again, the creative part.
ELF: Ever wish you could go back to it?
BMETZGER: I miss my friends at the art and craft shows, not the backbreaking labor!
ELF: So you are fully committed to writing now?
BMETZGER: I have not been committed yet, but a shrink has been recommended.
ELF: Your love of dogs is well known. Your little dog Hero is sadly missed by all who knew him. Now you have Valentino, your latest canine love.
You feed the birds and have a fish. Any new additions to your menagerie being planned?
BMETZGER: I think about getting Tino a friend, or getting a dog that can walk on the beach with me. (Spot the goldfish doesn't go out much.) 
But having a tiny 4-pound dog that I can carry around is a hoot. He makes me smile, and everyone who sees him. And he is enough for now. Did you see the Bookmark I made for THE HOURGLASS? (it's at my website) I put Tino in the heroine's arms!
ELF: What are some of your other hobbies and interests?
BMETZGER: Besides books and the beach, I spend a lot of time volunteering at my local library. I run the annual book fair and am proud to say we made over $20,000 in one day last year! I also help my sister with her dollhouse miniatures hobby-- a great excuse to go to yard sales every Saturday
ELF: When you're not writing or painting, or doing charitable work, or such, what sort of books do you like to read?
BMETZGER: Romances. I love all kinds of them. A few mysteries, some best sellers, some classics, but I always go back to romance.
ELF: There's never a doubt when one is reading a Metzger book. They are unique. How would you describe your work, and style of writing?
BMETZGER: I'll leave that to the readers. I write the way I write, and doubt I could do differently.
ELF: And what's the next book coming up after "HOURGLASS?"
BMETZGER: Thank you for asking! It is TRULY YOURS (Sept. 08, Signet Eclipse), another out-of-the-box Regency-set historical with paranormal elements. In this one, the hero can tell when someone is lying or telling the truth. It is an inherited talent, but kept secret, so he and his father are disgraced hermits. Then he has to rescue the heroine, who is accused of killing her awful stepfather. Only he believes her, and comes to save her life. And his own by falling in love.
One thing I would like to mention is the fun I have with these odd ideas. Sex, Scotch, sky-diving, sinsemilla*-- nothing beats the sheer joy of creativity. (In the long term, anyway.) A lot of the writing life is downright tedious and hard work, retelling a story you already know by heart. The imagination part, the soaring with a new idea, that's what makes it worthwhile. That and seeing my books on the shelf, getting to write The End finally, hearing from readers that they really do like what I write, and getting paid for it! Oh, and when my mother walked into her little independent book store to show her friends my books and the owner said "Hi, Mom."
ELF: (* I had to look that one up myself!) Thank you Barbara!
Friday, February 23, 2007
Endings
Hi everyone. It's Jo with a pirate CBK. Yo-ho-ho! I'm back and with a new, faster computer and I even remembered how to get into Typepad to create this post. Yay!
I thought I'd pick up a question from a Canadian.
Wendy from Halifax asked, "I have a question and it is completely off topic, but it popped into my head recently - have you ever finished a book, sent it in, had it published and then wished you had added another chapter to the end of it, or changed how it ended?"
Hi, Wendy. We spent 7 wonderful years in Halifax when we first came to Canada and it's still one of my favorite places. Except for the long winter. It does go on a bit. This is a picture I took there a few years ago of some of the lovely 18th century houses down near the waterfront.
Your question's hard for me to answer because I tend to forget such details after a while, but generally by the time I send a book in I've decided I've done my very best with it. I don't think I've ever realized later that I'd made a terrible mistake. The end might not be perfect, but it's the best I can do.
Endngs are an interesting subject in themselves, however. In one sense the end of a romance is a no-brainer, but there are all kinds of subtleties that can make or break them.
Pacing, for example. A novel usually builds to some dramatic point and resolution. Round about there the story more or less ends, but if the book ends there it's horrible. The characters and the reader need some wind-down to recover and enjoy. Sort of like after orgasm. :) Getting enough ease-down and opportunity to savor is part of pacing.
Sometimes as a reader I come to the end of a novel and turn the page expecting more. That's not usually a good sign. Certainly with a really good book I don't want it to end, but that's not what I'm talking about. In that case I'll sometimes flip back and read the later chapters again. I'm talking about the sort of page turn that needs more, that's not quite satisfied yet.
On the other hand, but more rarely, the ending goes on too long so I'm thinking, Enough, already. This flaw isn't so bad because I can just skip, but it still gives an off taste. And the thing about endings, the thing that makes them so important, is how they can colour our feelings about the whole book. I've read books that thrilled me down to my toes but that did something at the end that stole some of the pleasure and I never got it back. I'm unlikely to re-read that book, and I might be hesitant to buy the author's next book.
There's a saying. The beginning sells the book. The ending sells the next book.
Of course giving me an unexpectedly tragic twist at the end is guaranteed to ruin a book. To me, that makes the heroic journey of the characters meaningless. But even a bittersweet ending can ruin it. Particularly in romance, I want the characters to have bliss after the fight. They have their future, after all, and some rain will pour on their parade now and then, but at the end of the book, right then, after their courageous struggles, I want to read bliss.
In other genres, I will accept a heroic tragedy -- if it's the only way to defeat evil, for example. But not 
a "shit happens" tragedy. The death and suffering has to be meaningful and it has to achieve something. Sorry, but I think the ending of Romeo and Juliet is of the shit happens type.
Shit happening is one of the conventions of the literary fiction genre and often people will see bittersweet, tragic, or even meaninglessly depressing endings as proof of art. There's another saying. Tragedy is easy. Comedy is hard.
In romance, in addition to present bliss, I want future stability. Heading off into the wilderness, or boarding ship to go in search of somewhere to put down roots doesn't work for me. What if there's a ship-wreck? What if they end up on a tropical island and get eaten by cannibals? That sort of thing is for the story, not for after the last page. Afterward is for peace, prosperity, stability, and security. But I know that is a quirk of mine, so I'm not saying it's essential for a satisfying romance.
One thing I don't require in a romance ending is the "I love you" moment. Some readers really need the man say the words and if he doesn't, it spoils the book. To me, the proof of his love and devotion is in everything he does during the novel, so it's worked or not worked by the end. I don't mind if it's there. It's just not important to me.
So, what sort of endings do you most enjoy in romance novels? Are there things you have to read there for it to be perfect?
Do you have different preferences for different genres?
What about historical novels based on real people? If you know that the character will come to a nasty end a few years after the book ends, does that bother you?
Don't forget to keep an eye out for Dragon Lovers, which could appear on shelves at any time.
Guaranteed happy endings and I hope they're all satisfying.
Thanks for the inspiration, Wendy. E-mail me to say what book you'd like.
Jo :)
Thursday, February 22, 2007
The tallest man in the room
by Mary Jo
Years ago, a friend of mine said that the hero of a Mills & Boon romance was always the tallest, richest man in the room—and she was usually right. (Usually he had dark hair and a lot of arrogance, but those are different blogs.)
Society’s bias toward height is pretty blatant, especially for men. Twice in the last week, I’ve seen articles on height, both apparently inspired by a study out of Princeton that says that tall people not only earn more money, but they’re smarter, too, and presumably deserve higher salaries. (A 2004 study showed that each additional inch of height amounts to a salary increase of about $789/year for men.)
I’m willing to concede that taller men may earn more, but taller people more 
intelligent? As a somewhat vertically challenged person myself, I have a vested interest in not believing that taller people are generally smarter! (But it's interesting to see how Lincoln, who may have had Marfan's Syndrome, which give lanky height, towers over his generals in this photo.)
But there is some natural basis for such a claim, quite apart from the intelligence tests the Princeton study is talking about. A better nourished infant is going to grow better both physically and mentally, so a child who never gets enough food is at a disadvantage compared to one who is well-fed. In the middle ages, this would translate to tall, lordly (well-nourished) aristocrats and puny peasants.
Also, in the more violent past, a large guy who fought well probably looked like a natural leader. Bullying = dominance. A woman who hooked up with the biggest warrior around might be better protected than the woman who paired off with the short guy. So I suppose that there are grounds for the romance hero who is always soooooo tall. But I don’t have to like it.
In BLINK, Malcolm Gladwell talks about “the Warren Harding Effect”—that is, Harding became president largely because he looked so presidential. That didn’t make him a distinguished president, though! Given me brains and character over mere height any day.
Size is often used an insult. “You little slimeball.” Or a disparagement. “She has a nice little figure” or “she’s just the sweetest little thing.” Those latter don’t sound much like compliments, do they?
Our culture talks about a “Napoleon complex” to mean a small man with 
grandiosity issues. In fact, the evidence suggests that Napoleon was slightly above average size for a Frenchman of his time—about 5’6”. He was called “the little corporal” as a term of affection, because of his easy manner with common soldiers. Hence he has gone into history as an egotistical short guy when he was merely an egotistical tyrant. ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Napoleon )
I have a pet peeve with all the cliché descriptions of the woman whose head barely reaches the man’s shoulder. That’s pretty rare in the real world, actually, and when it occurs, the couple tend to look a little unnatural—more like a little girl being taken for a walk by her father than like partners. These days in America, the average height for men is 5’ 9” and for women is 5’ 
4”, a difference of 5”. If a woman’s head comes only to a man’s shoulder, the difference is more like 15”—pretty substantial.
Take a look at Will Smith and Jada Pinkett. She was considered and rejected for the role of his girlfriend in his tv series because the producers thought she was too short and the couple looked odd together. So she didn’t get the roll of girl friend, but Will Smith felt differently and chose her for the real world role of wife. <g>
I get bored with romance heroes who are always tall, though I’ve certainly written a fair number myself. But my heroes may also be average height, and some have been on the lean and lithe side. A cat burglar has a physical appeal that is different from a football player, but that can be just as compelling. Maybe more so, depending on one’s tastes.
Of course, in fiction a lot of this does come down to taste, so tall heroes will probably always predominate. And not just in books, but movies. A lot of Hollywood leading men aren’t that tall, but if film magic can make an average actor look like a hobbit, it can do the reverse. I recall reading that Alan Ladd (5’6”) once made a movie with Sophie Loren (5’ 8”), so the producers dug a trench for her to walk in as they strolled side by side. That way Ladd could look tall and manly. <g>
This still goes on—when Prince Charles became engaged to Lady Diana, who was about his height, I recall that the official portrait of the two of them was arranged so he looked half a head taller. Say what you will about Tom Cruise, but at least he seems okay with marrying women who loom over him.
Height is less of an issue for women. Tall and statuesque is good, but so is petite and pretty. Some of my petite friends get exasperated when they 
are considered cute rather than authoritative, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard it said that a woman had a Napoleon complex. As an interesting aside, one of the height articles I read said that the ideal height for a male model is 6’—and for a female model, it’s 5’11”. So female models have to unusually tall as well as unusually thin. One more example of the fact that life isn’t fair. <g>
Physical attraction is to some extent hardwired into us individually, so I don’t expect to change anyone’s preference. Personally, I’ve dated tall guys and short guys and those in the middle. The one thing they have in common is intelligence, kindness, integrity, and a sense of humor. (And tolerance, which they need to hang out with a writer!) Who needs height when a guy has so many great traits?
Mary Jo, who likes the guys who make her laugh--and who laugh at her jokes, too.
Power out!
Apologies from Loretta!
I'm not Loretta, I'm Mary Jo, and I just got back from the hairdresser to find a message from Loretta that the power is out in her area, and the ETA for restoring it 6:00 pm EST. So she asked me to post her regrets.
I could do a thoughtful riff on how dependent we are on technology (if you want to make a Wench scream, cut off her broadband!) but since I haven't had lunch, I'll leave it with Loretta's apologies--
Mary Jo, for Loretta
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
A Rose By Any Other Name
Woden's Day, and Susan Sarah here....
Yesterday Pat brought up the subject of names, author names and pseudonyms, which got me thinking about naming characters. It’s a delicate thing, this picking of character names. I can spend hours–-days even-–poring over name books looking for just the right name for a character. Main, secondary, tertiary or a throwaway name, they can all impact and influence the story. That's for fictional characters--in the case of actual historical people in the book, sometimes the author is well and truly stuck, and must make the best of it.
Names can help the authenticity of a book, can help weave the fabric of that story and time period, or can undermine it and disturb the flow. Names have historical and social contexts, and those need to be considered. Some names sound very modern to our ear, despite their historical pedigree, while others are just plain ugly, or hard to pronounce, or have some social context of being frumpy or dowdy, sly or weak. The modern connotation can be as important as the historical context.
I have a big library of name books, with pages well-thumbed and liberally salted with penciling and underlining, sticky notes and printouts of additional lists. When I named my kids, I had two or three favorite books, and I still use those. Now the library has expanded to include books that list historical names and give census lists and historical background, as well as books that consider the social, numerological, and even kabbalistic context of names. Any source that helps is a good one.
Historical context is just one factor to consider--authors are also thinking about authenticity, sound (even read silently, the sound of a name is still very important), spelling, pronunciation, how many other characters' names begin with the same letter or a similar sound, and so on. For example, if you're flying through a story and need a quick name for a maidservant or a reverend, some character who pops into the story and pops right back out again, it's easy to pick up the nearest name book, choose a name, and go back to the writing. The pitfall is that if you're snatching names on the fly from the beginning of the book--everyone might begin with A, or by Chapter 4 or 5, the names start with B, and a little further on, C. *g* Of course we intend to mix up things to disguise the author process, but sometimes these things happen!
Authenticity is a biggie. Character names should fit the historical context of the story, and both sound and feel right for the character, the setting, the historical era. Many good name books will give the origin and history of a name, along with some notes on census reports showing the most common and popular names in certain centuries. Withycombe's The Oxford Dictionary of English Christian Names is one of the best for this sort of information.
A name can be historically accurate, and yet sound all wrong to the modern reader, something else to take into account. My favorite example of this is the name "Tiffany" -- if you saw this name for a medieval heroine, you might shudder at this bit of apparent inaccuracy. Yet the name did occur in the medieval era, its origin being Theophania, or Epiphany. According to Withycombe, there was a Tiffany recorded in England in 1315, along with others. It's one of several religious holiday names that were popular in earlier centuries, along with Christmas, Noel, and so on. Try getting "Tiffany" past a modern day editor, let alone a reader--!
I once named a medieval heroine "Michaelmas"--the feast of the Archangel Michael in September was her birthday. She first appeared as a secondary character, the young sister of the hero, Gavin Faulkner, in Angel Knight--both of them, brother and sister, had a natural healing ability. Readers loved the character (who was 8 years old in Angel Knight) and I got letters asking for her story. There I was, well and truly stuck with a name that would be difficult for a romance heroine. When it came time for her book--Lady Miracle, a story about Michaelmas growing up to become a 14th-century female physician--I compromised and called her "Michael," since the use of masculine names for females was very prevalent in the medieval era. 
While Publishers Weekly gave Lady Miracle a starred review (and that review is framed on my wall!), there was one memorable reviewer who bashed the book down to a crummy two-star because the heroine had a guy's name and she just couldn't get into the story.
The moral of that experience is, think way ahead when you name a character! But as the author, I loved Michaelmas, the character and the name. Looking back--I think I would have chosen the same name again.
Besides accuracy and authenticity (which are two different factors!), there's the sound of a name, the spelling, the pronunciation. Can I live with typing that name ten thousand times? In one book, I had named a character Ned -- and a few chapters into the book, changed it to something else. Writing "Ned said" was driving me mad. And while I love the name James and have used it twice (in fact, the hero of my current WIP is called James), the possessive, James's, is awkward.
I've sometimes changed the name of a hero or heroine repeatedly while writing a story. The character won't click for me unless the name is right for that character. Sometimes the name is right there from the beginning, full-blown, and other times, it takes an effort of constantly searching and changing. For example, I once called a hero Geordie--nahhh, this just didn't work for him. Geordie was a little brother, not a hero. Once I called him Duncan, the whole character sprang to life like a hologram. The heroine of my current WIP (James's heroine!) was Kirsty in the proposal, yet she just wouldn't walk, talk, or make sense until I discovered that she was, in fact, Elspeth. I will have to remind my editor not to write up any back cover copy based on the proposal....
And of course, can the reader pronounce the name --- that's always a consideration. I work with Gaelic and Celtic names often, and they are the de'il to pronounce. There are ways of gently showing the reader how to pronounce the name, by having another character learn to say it phonetically, or allowing some interior phonetic dialogue, something like that. Most of the time when I use a Gaelic name, I try to go for the ones that are obvious--like Bethoc, Morag, Niall, and leave Siobhan or Eibhlin, lovely as they are when said out loud (basically, Chevonne and Evleen), aside. 
When a character is a historical person with a tricky name--that needs to be handled delicately where possible. In my last manuscript (which will be out next year, more on that later when I have more info!), I had to work my way around Gruoch, Lulach, and Gillecomghainn--all I could do was try to simplify the names as much as possible and pray that the reader would go with it.
Sometimes the historical names for a time period are just so plain and boring--our friend Susan Miranda has had to work her way around a plethora of men named Charles, William, and James, and women named Barbara, Mary, Sarah, and Anne--bunches of them all in the same circle, and she's done an admirable job of it. No wonder, looking back over history, that men and women came to be called by their titles and properties, since so many of them were sporting the same name!
So, a few thoughts on names and naming characters -- there's much more to be said, but I have to get back to James and Elspeth, who are deep in a subterranean cave in Scotland looking for lost fairy gold, with the MacBaddies hot on their trail!
~Susan Sarah
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
What's in a name?
Pat Rice checking in (actually, that's Charlotte Bronte, but since we're talking about pseudonyms today...), if –-in the spirit of retrograde—I don’t forget to sign in and post this.
Jaclyn Laurin asks:
"I'm fascinated with pseudonyms. The why (were you embarrassed to use your real one?), where (did you get the inspiration for your pen name?), how (did it come about?), who (gave you the idea for it?)."
Jaclyn wins her choice of my books because I didn’t dare get into a historical opinion piece on our political process to go with President’s Day! 
I don’t currently use a pseudonym. I tried though! I sold my first book the week I started work for an accounting company owned in part by a couple of Baptist deacons. This being a very small town, I was sure my sexy historical would get me fired before I even started. So once I picked myself up off the floor after the editor’s call (I’d been trying to find a job and/or sell a book for two years, so some planet was in the right house that week!), I wrote a letter explaining that I needed to use a pseudonym. In the days before instant e-mail responses, we quickly became accustomed to not hearing from NYC unless it was important to them. Pseudonyms apparently didn’t fall under my editor’s radar, or the shortness of my name made it irresistible. The next thing I knew, I was looking at galleys with “Pat Rice” on them, and had to confess all before the book hit the stands. The Baptist deacons took it in good stride. They were men. They didn’t read books. Wreaked havoc with the life of my teenagers though!
Now I’m branded with the Patricia Rice label and my readers expect a certain kind of book when they see my name. (You can usually tell how well known an author is by the size of her name on the cover!) A lot of readers recognize the label, so giving up this recognition would have to be a big decision. Over the years, I’ve toyed with the idea since I’ve always found “Patricia” boring and unoriginal (I’m quite convinced 25% of my generation has the name), and “Rice” has been rather overused in the book market.
Currently, I’m toying with a few books that really don’t fit the Patricia Rice brand label, and I’m again contemplating finding a really sexy, exciting name, one that better fits my perceived image. <G> This is not precisely a new marketing scheme. Charles Dodgson wrote his academic papers on logic under his real name, and wrote his Alice books under Lewis Carroll. Agatha Christie wrote romances under Mary Westmacott. And apparently, over the years, some writers were so prolific that they took pen names so their publishers didn’t know how many books they were writing!
So, in the spirit of creativity, or procrastination, whichever, I used numerology to pick out the letters I want in my new name, and because it would be fun to sell these books to more than women, I decided I wanted a fairly androgynous nom de plume. (Shades of the Brontes, who did the same! Men apparently don’t take a writer seriously unless they have male names.) A lot of people call upon their maiden names or family names, but I’m stuck with a family that dates back to Adam and Eve and prides itself on family names like Hasbrouck and worse. So not going there. I want distinctive, but Hasbrouck is in a class by itself. Besides, it’s too long. Book jackets look better with short names. I tried to persuade my agent that a one word name would do it, but she wasn’t buying it.
She did, however, grasp what I was after and came up with a great name that I will reveal should I ever finish these books. Ha. That may happen in the next millennium. But when it does, I’ll be prepared! Of course, given that I’m lucky to remember my real name, it could get interesting remembering who I am at a booksigning. Maybe I better rethink this.
All right, ‘fess up, what would the rest of you call yourselves if you could choose any name you wanted? And why?
Barbara Metzger Here Sunday
We're on a roll now, with guest confirmations still coming in, so be sure to check out our 
Announcements sidebar to the right on a regular basis. This coming Sunday we have a special treat for you: Edith will interview the one and only Barbara Metzger. Yes, THE Barbara Metzger. I cut my eye teeth on her Regencies and many of her books adorn my bookshelves. Barbara's branched out now, but her name will alwa
ys be linked with Regencies. ( http://www.barbarametzger.com ) We're looking forward to visiting with Barbara on 2/25, and we'd love to have you join us. We'll be serving cucumber sandwiches and macaroons and tea all day, so drop in any time.
P.S. We have some big doings lined up for March. The Wenches are keeping things under wraps just now, but here's a tiny hint: think dragons.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Too Much Information?
By Susan/Miranda
Queen Bee asked: When you find so much fascinating historical information, how do you (or any of the Wenches) decide what to use, and what to leave out?
Research is a tricky trap. Every writer wants to set the scene in a way that will bring the story to life and create characters that seem real. Digging up lots of nifty background facts as reinforcement is one of the best ways to do it. As much as writers wish it were otherwise, imagination alone can’t carry the whole load. Whether a story is set in a police precinct in modern-day New York or in Bath in 1805, a writer needs accurate details to give a story credibility.
Yet sometimes those same facts can take over a story and overwhelm it: the dreaded “info-dump.” Most of the time, writers don’t even realize the terrible moment until it’s too late. You tuck in a description of the heroine’s gown (the Spitalfields silk requires at least an entire paragraph itself), then the hero’s coat (French embroidery and cut steel buttons) then the heroine’s best friend’s clothing (a sack gown in lemon-colored lutestring), and the servant’s livery (scarlet wool plush, silver lacing, polished pewter buttons galore) and suddenly it’s happened. You haven’t written a tender love scene. You’ve written a Wikipedia entry.
The secret, of course, is keeping to your character’s POV instead of your own. Those cut-steel buttons might be endlessly fascinating to you, but to your hero, they’re just what keeps his coat closed, and of no more significance to him than a Velcro strip is to us. On the other hand, if the heroine sees the buttons, and recognizes the particular pattern in the cut-steel as being sold only in Paris, while the hero has sworn he’s never been abroad –– well, then those super-cool buttons you discovered have earned their place in your story.
True, it’s hard to be judicious, especially for us self-proclaimed history nerds. We love research, whether it’s in the hushed carrel of a university’s rare book room, or Googling away at home in pj’s. We store away ideas and fact like squirrels with acorns, and delight in sharing what we’ve discovered with our readers. But today publishers wants shorter, sexier historical romances, and most editors will react to abundant historical description like Borat: “Not so much.”
Yet when research works the way it should, it’s magical, both for the writer and the reader. I’ve mentioned here before how my recent book splurge of the complete diaries Samuel Pepys now fills an entire bookcase shelf. With my current string of historical novels set in England during the 1660s-80s, I turn again and again to the Pepys diaries for inspiration. Sometimes all it takes is a single sentence or two: “Great doings of music at the next house . . . the King [Charles II] and Dukes [Charles’s two younger brothers, James and Henry] there with Madame Palmer, a pretty woman that they have a fancy to, to make her husband a cuckold.”
Madame Palmer will in fact become Charles’s mistress, and my heroine in Royal Harlot, but this brief mention by Pepys kicked my imagination into high gear. Is this Barbara’s first time entertaining royalty in her home? Does her husband yet realize the king’s interest in Barbara? Do Charles’s brothers like her, and she them? How does such a musical party mark the differences in London before and after Charles’s return to the throne, and how does it solidify Barbara’s position with the king? One sentence, yet it inspired an entire chapter.
I’m not alone, of course. I’m sure every one of the Wenches will have experienced much the same research “magic.” I’m currently reading an advance copy of Loretta’s next book, Not Quite a Lady. Because this book won’t be in stores for another couple of months, I won’t spill the beans about the characters or the plot except to say that it’s another of Loretta’s virtually perfect books. *g* Still, I will say this much: one of the most popular blogs on this site last year resulted from Loretta’s research-visit to Old Sturbridge Village ("The Pig & I": it's worth revisiting), and it’s clear that same visit influenced quite a bit in her new book (and her characters) as well.
So if you’re a reader, do you like stories suggested by historical fact? If you’re a writer, do you, too, rely on historical facts for inspiration? (And thank you, Queen Bee, for the question –– you've earned a free book.)
Sunday, February 18, 2007
The Birth of a New Book
This past Friday, I thought of a book to write! Now this mightn't seem like such a suchamuch, but I can't tell you how excited I am about it, though of course you know I'll try.
I have a new book due for AVON. They hadn't liked my latest proposal.
After wailing and gnashing of teeth (which of course, I stoically kept to myself, thinking I'd soon come up with a better one), I realized I couldn't think of another book to offer!
This isn't so rare, or strange, at least, for me. Once a novel starts reeling off in my head, there's little room for anything else. This also explains the piled up newspapers, forgotten bills, and the general air of inattention I sometimes - often - usually have, only worse. But my idea was gently rejected. So I had to set to work on a new one.
Crickets echoed in my empty brain.
Not these Crickets, mind you.
December - it was easy to slough off the idea of new book. New grandson Hugo the Magnificent! Christmas! Chanukah! Presents and goodies and HAPPY NEW YEAR.
Warning: This baby is bad for authors!
January - not such a new year after all. No new ideas. Morass. Went to LA to visit brilliant Adam and gorgeous Jeanne. Pretty flowers and good company diverting.
<-- Edith was in La La Land!
February - finally getting that skulking affect, like a petty thief creeping around the mall. Feeling guilty. Panic enters, stage right.
And then - Lo! And Behold! It came to me. Completely. A good book. One I could enjoy because if I don't love writing it, how can I expect anyone else to ever like reading it?
Sometimes novels come to you slowly, bit by bit. Sometimes you wake up with them sitting on your forehead, full-blown and whole as an egg.
And sometimes you have to forget the whole thing for a while, and let ideas simmer in the back brain. But now I have it, and now I'm writing the proposal. It feels wonderful.
(Do NOT ask what I'll do if my editor hates it.)
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Judith Merkle Riley, HWW!
The Word Wenches would like to thank Judith Merkle Rilely for being our guest blogger!
We are so grateful to Judith for chatting with us -- that interview is a real keeper! -- and since we know she is busy writing her next wonderful medieval, we would like to present her this award....
~Judith, you are officially an Honorary Word Wench - and you may add HWW after your signature
~Please feel more than welcome to return to Word Wenches at any time, and to promote your books here
As a sincere token of our appreciation and admiration, please accept this virtual Quill Pen and Inkpot -- may their magic remind you of your special day in Wenchland!
luv from,
the Seven Wenches and Sherrie the Whipster
Thursday, February 15, 2007
An Interview with Judith Merkle Riley
Judith Merkle Riley published her first mainstream historical novel, A Vision of Light, in 1989, when there were almost no historical novels being published. Reviews were stellar, her books were Book of the Month Club selections, and people who loved historical novels devoured everything she wrote.
A JMR novel combines rich historical detail with wonderfully accessible prose. Her heroines are charming, resourceful, and very strong. She usually combines first and third person sections, which gives both intimacy and scope. The medieval world of the Margaret of Ashbury novels is magical in a way that seems wonderfully appropriate.
I met Judith at a Novelists, Inc. conference in Vancouver several years ago. She was bemused but not displeased to find herself in the midst of a gaggle of historical romance fan grrrls who followed her around for days. <g> I was one of 
them. When I learned that one of her books, The Water Devil, had been published only in Germany, I seriously considered groveling to see if I could beg a copy (in English) from her, but I didn’t quite have the chutzpah.
A Vision of Light began the tale of Margaret of Ashbury, who moved from village life in the 14th century to becoming a midwife, healer, and heretic. The book starts when God tells her to write a book, and that means hiring a cleric to do the actual writing. The battle-of-the sexes interplay between Margaret and a disapproving Brother Gregory is delicious. Judith later wrote a sequel, In Pursuit of the Green Lion. That was followed by three other fat, luscious novels set in different times and places.
Recently I spotted a review for The Water Devil, which came out in English at the beginning of this month. Oh, joy! Even better, it turns out that TWD is the third in the Margaret of Ashbury trilogy—and Crown reissued the first two in 2006. Finally the market has caught up with Judith Merkle Riley. All of the Wenches are delighted to have Judith as a guest. Welcome!
1. How did you become interested in writing historical novels? What was it like to swim against the publishing tide in the 90s?
JMR: I’ve always loved historical novels, starting with Sabatini, Dumas pére (sorry about the accent, don’t know how to make them on this machine), Sir Walter Scott, and the whole gang. But I never thought I could write one.
A lot of things came together in the 1980’s: I was pushing 50 and ready to try new things, the women’s movement appeared to be withering on the vine, and I thought the spark could be kept alive with accurate woman-centered historical novels. I was also a frustrated student of medieval manuscripts – my father, in those ancient days of patriarchy, had said it was impractical and I must study 
something “real.” I’d been “real” for a long time, and I couldn’t even pretend any more that it was bringing joy to my soul.
Also my first book – nonfiction, academic—had been denounced as “too well written,” by my colleagues, so I thought I might be able to write something more lively. I figured if I wrote a novel and if it were horrible, it had the great advantage of being easily hidden.
As for the publishing tide, I was quite ignorant of it. I thought I’d made a tremendous discovery when I found out there was something called a literary agent who would actually sell your manuscripts for you (academics always sold their own.) When the historical tide went out in the U.S., it was running high in Europe, so when my books vanished from the U.S., they were on European best-
seller lists. During the worst part of the historical novel bust, I was deeply entangled in family issues, and couldn’t write at all – just as well, because the manuscripts wouldn’t have sold and (delicate flower that I am) I would have been crushed.
2. What was the biggest mistake you made when you first began writing? What was the smartest thing? (Or the luckiest!)
JMR: The biggest mistake I made: telling my now ex-husband, who fancied himself a creative writer and, as he frequently informed me, had been admitted to the exclusive Harvard seminar which held all the secrets of the universe on creative writing. Not being privy to these secrets, I wept every night at his criticism, and got up the next morning and wrote anyway. I guess I’ll never write Great Art, but I’ll settle for Great Story.
The luckiest thing? Finding my wonderful agent, Jean Naggar, whom I regard as the Seventh Wonder of the Universe.
3. (Question from Patricia Rice) How much research, how long, to get those fabulous details?!
JMR: Where do I get all those microscopic details? I love reading primary source stuff, and things just pop out at you, so I write them down. Also, there are some fabulous historians out there. Margaret and her friends all got shoes when I read about a British archeological dig that had come up with a bunch of preserved leather goods from the 14th century. La Voisin’s dress bill for her embroidered “empress gown” is part of the original inquiry into the Affair of the Poisons. The “language of the fans” popped up in another old source. I don’t research for details, I read for fun. It’s all dessert.
4. (From Susan King) – Margaret is a fascinating character, very true to her own time, yet with a universal and irresistible appeal. Did any actual medieval women help to inspire this wonderful character?
Also, was The Water Devil an idea for Margaret that came to you later?
JMR: Where did I get Margaret’s character? The biggest problem with a novel set in the middle ages is that novels are based on people’s interior lives, and the “I” 
that only turns up by the Renaissance. What woman wrote in the middle ages? What women reflected on their interior lives back then? What women help one create a sense of “I” that seems accurate for the era? The women mystics— troublesome, smart, visionary – and always saying, “I know I should not write, being only a woman, but GOD told me I had to.” (That to you, men and priests.) Julian of Norwich, Margery Kempe, Hildegarde of Bingen, thank you all. Also thanks to Chaucer, whose Wife of Bath asks the key question: Who painted the lion? (answer -- not a lion, that’s for sure.)
The Water Devil – I’d been reading up on holy springs and wells and ley lines and such in England, and wanted to do a story using those things. Even in the depths of Chartres cathedral, there’s a well, presumed to be a sacred pagan site. (It is heavily screened, so no one will drop in an offering.)
5. Your books often have spiritual and supernatural elements. Could you comment on that?
JMR: The sacred and the supernatural – why not take people from back then at their word? Life was hard, people relied on religion to get them through. Religion, spirituality, superstition, and sometimes just raunchy humor. I don’t thinks it’s fair to read our own type of secular thinking back into their characters. Someone writes that a saint appeared before him as tall as a tree with flames coming out of his ears, and says “Sinner, repent! Build me a chapel right here.” why not have that happen in a book? A weeping white shape appears regularly in some old spot, looking for a dead baby. Great stuff. A nicely dressed businessman meets you on a street corner by chance and offers to help you out of debt, but he smells funny and leaves cloven hoofprints –excellent!
6. What are the key elements of a great story? Ah, Lord, if I knew that for certain, I’d rule the world.
7. Though your books are not romance, there are always romantic subplots and a satisfying ending. Comment?
JMR: Why romantic subplots? Everybody loves a romantic subplot. Tolstoy’s War and Peace has one, Senkiewicz’s massive Trilogy has one per volume. And those are historical novels with a capital H and N! Death, war, betrayal, romance, revenge and social climbing – we all love them, you can’t write a story without them. And romance should always end well – it’s the authorial promise when you set out on the adventure.
8. The best part about being a writer?
JMR: Writing. The most frustrating part? Writing.
9. All three Margaret of Ashbury novels have been reissued in the last year, with The Water Devil just released. Your work is a perfect fit with the current popularity in mainstream, woman-oriented historical novels. Are there plans to reissue your other three novels?
JMR: The Serpent Garden is scheduled to be reissued in 2008. I hope the others will follow. As for the new woman-oriented historical novel – I couldn’t be more pleased that there are more of them now. The traditional male-oriented novel depicts friendship, humor, treachery, adventure, all in the “club.” The women are mostly décor. How frustrating I found that when I was a kid-readaholic!
What I hope is that the new novels will show all those things among women, without reducing the men to one dimensional “good catches.” The historical novel has had many roles, among them nation-building and redefining the worth of the bourgeois character. It is a literary vehicle of great power, which has led people and groups to re-examine themselves in deep ways. Why not use it to redefine forever the relationships between men and women? Why not take us to new places and new cultures and change the face of the world for the better?
JMR: Am I working on a new book? Yes.
Wonderful! Thanks so much for visiting, Judith. And if you have another idea for Margaret of Ashbury—write it!
Mary Jo
Everyone's a critic
From Loretta:
From the hearts and flowers of Valentine’s Day to the heartbreak of criticism.
Let me start by saying that Maureen Dowd, whose columns I usually enjoy, got my dander up with a recent one about Chick Lit, where she--who I thought was hipper than this--used that hoary old cliché of “bodice ripper,” in referring to...um...my genre. She devoted the column to generally putting down all those jillions of books written primarily by women primarily for women. All those books with HEA endings. Books where the women are at least as important as the men.
So I sighed and turned to the shelves of my library, where I usually go for comforting. Well, I go for comforting to chocolate, too, but I’m trying to be erudite, here.
It could be worse, viz:
“Your manuscript is both good and original; but the part that is good is not original, and the part that is original is not good,” wrote Samuel Johnson to some unfortunate aspiring author.
As is the case with actors, musicians, and any other artists and craftspeople, the writer’s life is not for the faint of heart or thin of skin. And yet no matter how long one has been in this business, a negative review or harsh critique--or a sweeping dismissal of a whole genre--can cut one to the quick. Some of the wounds might take a long time to heal.
I often take comfort--though not very much--in knowing that it happens to everyone, even the greats.
“Critics! Appalled I ventured on the name,
Those cutthroat bandits in the paths of fame,” wrote Robert Burns.
Even Byron, who seemed not to give a damn what anyone thought of him, did care. Criticism stung, and he felt it, as is made clear in English Bards and Scotch Reviewers:
“A man must serve his time to ev’ry trade
Save censure--critics all are ready made.
....as soon
Seek roses in December, ice in June;
Hope constancy in wind, or corn in chaff;
Believe a woman or an epitaph,
Or any other thing that’s false, before
You trust in critics...”
Yes, if you cut us we bleed, most of us; some more than others.
As Byron demonstrates, it doesn’t matter if the criticism is patently unfair--or even insane. Anyone who’s browsed the Amazon reviews has come across utterly demented reviews, or ones written by persons who obviously have Issues. I read one recently--not of my book, because, to preserve my sanity, I stopped reading Amazon reviews of my books some years ago--but of a historical novel. The alleged reviewer gave the book the worst possible rating because--are you ready?--he didn’t approve of the behavior of its historical personages. Meanwhile, everyone else gave the book the high rating it deserved. But that one nutty review reduced the number of stars. And I’m still ticked about it--even though it wasn’t my book!--so irritated, in fact, by this one idiotic comment, out of dozens of rational ones, that I’ll probably stop reading Amazon reviews of everyone’s books.
But there are no rules about critics and never were.
Even reviews in periodicals, (yes, even my beloved New Yorker) even those written by scholars or other famously knowledgeable persons, can be unfair or demented. I have read movie reviews by respected critics and wondered if the reviewer and I saw the same movie. I have read others and realized that the reviewer wasn’t critiquing the movie he or she saw but was peeved because it wasn’t the version of the story the critic wanted told or told as he/she imagined it ought to be. Some criticize an actress’s looks instead of her acting. Yet hardly anyone seems to notice, as I do, let alone comment on, the abundance and absurdity of all those Gidget and Geezer movies: middle-aged or older hero and the girl young enough to be his daughter, if not his granddaughter.
Chick Lit, according to Ms. Dowd, is laughable, a sad commentary on our times and our shallowness--and Gidget & Geezer is not?
But yes, I’ve read fair reviews, too, and ones that taught me something--about the art form or the performers or the composers or painters. As an English major in college, I read reams and reams of criticism, and learned from it. I learned how to think critically, too, which included questioning the authority of those who critiqued. I learned that fashions in criticism come and go.
And one thing I’ve learned is that it’s always been fashionable to mock the work of women writers, especially those writing popular fiction.
When Lady Morgan published Italy in 1821, “the wolves were out,” according to Paul Johnson’s The Birth of the Modern. “Byron hailed the book as ‘fearless and excellent’ in the Quarterly.” Everyone else went insane, apparently. One critic wanted “a Royal Commission to inquire into her age” and “demanded that the Irish law officers begin an investigation to see if the knighthoods bestowed on her husband and brother-in-law...were illegal.” William Hazlitt said “women had no business involving themselves in art history and criticism.” Someone else called her “‘a monstrous literary abortion.’” “She was ‘an Irish she-wolf’ a ‘blustering virago.’” 
Any wonder why so many women wrote anonymously or pseudonymously?
Lady Morgan's critics might not have minded so much if she hadn’t been so hugely popular. Her novel, The Wild Irish Girl, made thousands and went into seven editions. For the maligned Italy, she was paid £2000, an enormous sum in those days, especially for a woman to earn.
Maureen Dowd’s comments about Chick Lit are not merely mild by comparison; they are tantamount to high praise.
Thank you, History, for providing perspective, as always.
What do you think about reviews and reviewers? Help or hindrance? Annoyance? Source of guidance? Or do you ignore them altogether?
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Wenchie Valentines
Valentine Wishes from the Wenches to you!
All the Wenches have left messages today -- take a moment to scroll down and read them, and enjoy!
Happy Valentine's Day!
Even in the old days
From Loretta:
Not very surprisingly, the place where I was born--birthplace of the Smiley Face--played a prominent role in the commercialization of Valentine’s Day. Here’s a sample of their wares:
More is available at
http://www.worcesterhistory.org/wo-valentines.html
Meanwhile, in England...
Upon further investigation on this snowy (at last) and sleety Valentine’s day, I was a surprised to find out that the commercialization of Valentine’s Day was being bemoaned during the time period when I set many of my stories.
Here’s tiny sample from several pages of Hone’s Everyday Book (1827) dealing with the subject:
“St. Valentine.
“Of this saint, so celebrated among young persons, little is known, except that he was a priest of Rome, and martyred there about 270.
“It was the custom with the ancient Roman youth to draw the names of girls in honour of their goddess Februata-Juno on the 15th of February, in exchange for which certain Roman catholic pastors substituted the names of saints in billets given the day before, namely on the 14th of February.”
Following some less than stellar poetry typical of the time, we learn:
“Two hundred thousand letters beyond the usually daily average, annually pass through the twopenny post-office in London on St. Valentine’s Day.”
Then comes the good part. He quotes--at length, copyright being more or less nonexistent at the time--Elia (aka Charles Lamb):
“In other words, this is the day on which those charming little missives, ycleped Valentines, cross and intercross each other at every street and turning. The weary and all for-spent twopenny postman sinks beneath a load of delicate embarrassments, not his own. It is scarcely credible to what an extent this ephemeral courtship is carried on in this loving town, to the great enrichment of porters, and detriment of knockers and bell-wires. In these little visual interpretations, no emblem is so common as the heart,--that little three cornered exponent of all our hopes and fears, --the bestuck and bleeding heart; it is twisted and tortured into more allegories and affectations than an opera-hat. 
What authority we have in history or mythology for placing the head-quarters and metropolis of god Cupid in this anatomical seat rather than in any other, is not very clear; but we have got it, and it will serve as well as any other thing. Else we might easily imagine, upon some other system which might have prevailed for any thing which our pathology knows to the contrary, a lover addressing his mistress, in perfect simplicity of feeling, ‘Madam, my liver and fortune are entirely at your disposal;’ or putting a delicate question, “Amanda, have you a midriff to bestow?”
As I have mentioned before, not all 19th century writing is at Jane Austen’s level, but Elia’s piece on Valentine’s Day is a delightful example of readable and amusing prose.
So I’ll steal his closing:
“Good morrow to my Valentine, sings poor Ophelia; and no better wish, but with better auspices, we wish to all faithful lovers...”
...and I wish to all, lovers or not, peace, love, and understanding.
Never Enough Valentines!
by Susan/Miranda:
A few days ago, I posted about the 17th century Frost Fair in London, and (apparently) invoked a huge icy mess to descend on the East Coast today. Fearful of these new-found powers, I'll just add my best wishes for Valentine's Day, and cross my fingers. Besides, if there's a sudden outbreak of hearts, flowers, and true love, is that really such a bad thing?
I'll also add a few historical notes to go along with Jo's. Celebrating St. Valentine's Day was one of the old customs happily revived at Charles II's restoration to the throne in 1660. (Oliver Cromwell and his Puritan ilk had tried to ban the day as frivolous and pagan, overlooking the fact that most Englishmen and women rather like being both frivolous and pagan on occassion.) Valentines were drawn among a group of friends, with names written on a slip of paper and pulled at random. In most cases, the tokens exchanged were simple, a kiss, a song, or the valentine's name prettily drawn on a paper.
In Charles's Court, however, everything was done on a grander scale, and there was a great deal of jockeying among the ladies to try to have the King or one of the higher lords as a Valentine. With good reason, too: their Valentine tokens often took the shape of costly jewels, and one year the king's brother, the Duke of York, gave a necklace valued at eight hundred pounds to a young lady-in-waiting that he was hotly pursuing. (No word on what the Duchess of York had to say about it.)
Another variation of choosing Valentines sounds similiar to Jo's. After waking in the morning, a woman would have the first man she saw as her Valentine. As can be imagined, much care was taken arranging the proper time to open one's eyes. One Valentine's Day, Mrs. Pepys was so determined to have a friend of her husband Samuel's as her Valentinue that she walked about the house with her eyes shut until he arrived, her greatest fear being that she'd first bump into one of the painters refurbishing their parlor.
Best wishes to all you Wenchlings and Wenches for the rest of the day!
Valentine's Day is for everyone
from Mary Jo
Happy Valentine's to all!
Like Jo, I'm not a huge fan of the obsessively commercialized holiday that raises expectations and creates disappointment. (I had a friend who thought of Valentine's as validation for her whole life, and was crushed if her current boyfriend didn't live up to her sky-high expectations. Not healthy!)
But the original tale in one of its forms has an imprisoned bishop sending his flock little messages saying "I love you" scratched on heart-shaped lilac leaves. There are many, many variations on the legend of St. Valentine's, so I like to interpret the day as one where we appreciate all those we love. In honor of that, here's a link to a Dear Abby column that ran two days ago showing the lovely way an engaged couple celebrated Valentine's day: http://www.uexpress.com/dearabby/?uc_full_date=20070212
And today's Dear Abby column has another story of a special kindness: http://www.uexpress.com/dearabby/ So whether you're single or coupled, thinking of romantic love or more full-spectrum love, may all you Wenchlings you give and receive some special happiness today--
Mary Jo
Valentines and Chocolates
Happy Valentine's Day!
Today being a special Wednesday, hopefully each of the Wenches will find time to stop by to wish you all Saint Valentine's Greetings (as this little Victorian munchkin is doing).
Since this tends to be a chocolate holiday--well hey, any day is a chocolate holiday but it's always nice to have a legitimate excuse--it's a good time to talk about chocolate. And since I'm in deadline mode this week, it's also a good time to recycle my blog on history of chocolate from a few months ago ... enjoy!
My Sarah Gabriel book, KEEPING KATE, involves lots of chocolate. Alec Fraser's family runs a chocolate shoppe in Edinburgh, and he's something of an expert in the family biz...but at the time, he's a captain in the Highland Watch, and is assigned to bring a spy to Edinburgh to face trial. He ends up chasing Kate MacCarran, sometime spy and accused thief, all over part of the Highlands, because she has a radically different idea about where she should go, and it's not to Edinburgh in chains. Finally he drags her unrepentant arse to Edinburgh to face a Judge of the Session Court for her espionage crimes. By that time, natch, Alec is fiercely attracted to the girl, and she to him, and jail and a hanging is just not something either one of them want to think about...
But what what does that have to do with chocolate? Oooooh lots. Yummm...chocolate is all through the story.... hot chocolate, spiced chocolate, hot chocolate with hot peppers (yes that's right), hot chocolate with cream, sugar, vanilla and cinnamon -- hold the hot peppers (really I'm not kidding). Oh, and chocolate-dipped liver (what can I say, it's 18th c. experimental cuisine). There's also an uncle in the story who's experimenting with forms of hardened chocolate for eating, but just can't get the formula right....
Chocolate drink was extremely popular by this time (18th century), and "chocolate houses" had popped up all over England and Scotland. It was imported in solid logs that were serrated to be broken easily--this stuff was bitter and powerful, and had to be melted and mixed with water, milk, sugar, and a variety of other ingredients to create hot drinks. Originally the Mayans and Aztecs drank chocolate by the time the Spaniards came upon them -- the South American natives would mash the beans and drink the stuff as a paste, full bitter, mixed with chili peppers and liquidated just enough to choke it down. Xocolatl, they called it. The Spaniards called it horrifying, a tortuous concoction, but in ritual ceremonies and at social events they had to drink it to be polite, and probably to prove their manliness.
But the Spaniards had a brilliant idea: mix the stuff with sugar and milk and heat it--suddenly it was good stuff. They started importing it to Spain and Portugal, and by the 16th century it had caught on fast. In Spain they still drank it laced with chili peppers (one cannot fathom why), or with cinnamon. Even today, hot chocolate with cinnamon is called Mexican or Spanish chocolate. It was mixed in silver pots, sometimes ceramic, and stirred with a wooden stick until it was frothy -- a technique learned from the Aztecs, who often drank the froth and left the rest. In Europe, the foam was regarded as the best of the drink, the frothier the better.
"Eating" chocolate, shaped into bars, was not fully developed until the 19th century (Fry's and Cadbury's among the first to do so), though in the 18th century they were experimenting (just like Alec Fraser's uncle) with forms of chocolate other than for drinking.
Hence the failed experiment, Liver Dipped in Chocolate....
Today we understand chocolate better--its natural neurotransmitters and psychoactive chemicals, its endorphins--chocolate contains serotonin and tryptophan--make us feel better. An urge for chocolate is sometimes an urge to medicate or adjust the brain chemistry, and lately chocolate (especially the dark kind, closer to its original cacao form) has been shown to be beneficial for heart and circulation too. Some experts recommend an ounce or two a day. What a hardship! So next time you're craving a little chocolate, remember--it's very healthy for you in small amounts! Go dig out that special chocolate bar you've squirreled away, or sit down with a steaming cup of hot chocolate with cinnamon (and pepper for the brave ones), and pick up a good book to enjoy while you're at it. Maybe something by one of the Wenches...(and if that chocolate craving is really strong, try KEEPING KATE...).
Wishing each of you a wonderful, fun Valentine's Day filled with something special for everyone -- be it chocolate, flowers, gifts, kind thoughts, warm hugs, or loving words -- you deserve it!
~Susan Sarah
Happy Valentines, Wenchlings!
Happy Valentine's Day from Pat Rice! By all means, read Jo's notes below. I'm just dropping in to give y'all a bouquet on a snowy winter day before I dive back into the WIP and forget what day it is. Until tonight, at least. I've got my rose bouquet where I can admire it all day, so I thought I'd give our readers some flowers to admire as well. Is anyone having a good day yet?
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Some Valentine's Day customs
Jo here.
We're all dropping by for a mini-blog today, and this is my contribution from some research I did many years ago for a story in a collection called A Regency Valentine. The collection first came out in hardcover from Walker, so you might find a copy in a library. Then it was out in paperback from Fawcett.
Valentines Day led to many superstitions woven around courtship and marriage. If a girl looked through the keyhole on Valentine's morning and saw one object, she would not marry that year; if she saw two or more she was sure of a sweetheart; if she saw a cock and a hen she could be sure of marriage before the year was out.
If snowdrops were brought into the house before Valentine's Day, all the single ladies of the house would remain that way for the year.
This custom comes from a diary of 1754: Last Friday was Valentine's Day, and the night before I got five bay leaves, and pinned four of them to the four corners of my pillow, and the fifth to the middle; and then if I dreamt of my sweetheart, we should be married before the year was out. But to make it sure, I boiled an egg hard and took out the yolk, and filled it with salt; and when I went to bed ate it, shell and all, without speaking or drinking after it.
(That seems guaranteed to give her heartburn and keep her awake with thirst!)
She also wrote: We wrote our lover's names upon bits of paper, and rolled them up in clay, and put them into water; and the first that rose up was to be our valentine.
I used that one in my Valentine's Day story. But I'm not a huge fan of the modern, commercial Valentine's Day, so this cherub, drunk and with a fool's cap under his arm seems very suitable.*G*
Have fun!
Jo :)
Historical vs Contemporary
Since my latest contemporary SWEET HOME CAROLINA, hit the stands while I was on vacation, I’ve been asked to write about the differences in writing contemporary and historical romance. I’m not entirely certain anyone has an interest in the topic, but I thought I ought to at least think about it for about five seconds.
The first thing that jumps out, of course, is the research. I have books stacked all around my desk and lined up on bookshelves nearby ready to be grabbed while I’m writing my historicals. Admittedly, I still have to do a lot of Googling since I can’t think of everything while ordering research books, and some tiny details just seem simpler to look up on the internet (the differences between porpoise and dolphin, anyone?).
The contemporaries are another story entirely because they’re well…contemporary. Anything that’s happening right now isn’t likely to be in a research book written two years ago and published last year. Daunting, how things change so rapidly! I tend to write about areas in which I live, so researching setting is fun, and current events are in the local newspaper that I read every day. In SWEET HOME CAROLINA, I picked up on the scenario of all the cotton mills and manufacturers in the Carolinas closing down because foreign exports made it impossible to keep prices down. Cotton has 
been a way of life in the south since the beginning of this country, and the industry and its lifestyle is disappearing faster than wig and hat makers. I can’t resist my historical footnotes, sorry!
The most difficult part about writing contemporaries is coming up with genuine conflicts without commiting major crimes. <G> In historicals, we can easily set up marriages of convenience for poor orphaned or widowed heroines or dastardly distant relatives with the power to fling children into the streets. And a lady who has lost her reputation is scarcely a welcome candidate for marriage to a highly respectable duke. Translating these conflicts into contemporary romance might make for a hilarious story, but not a very realistic one. How many conflicts can you set up in today’s world that can’t be resolved by law or communication? Throw this heroine out of her house, will you? My lawyer will see about that! My reputation isn’t good enough for you? Well let me just Google up your background! Take that, you cad.
So, in SWEET HOME CAROLINA, I had to come up with a jetsetting foreign prince (well, he’s from Europe and he’s rich) who is only in the Carolinas to make some money and get the heck back to his palace. At least contemporary lords can work for a living! And then I matched him up with a homebody whose only goal is to support her children after a nasty divorce and buy a house near her family, who live in the backwoods of nowhere. True modern day conflicts tend to revolve around home, family, and work, unless I want to step into crime drama.
Language is another biggy. Contemplate, if you will, the current versions of the word CAD. Just Google images and see what you get. When I first started writing historicals, my heavy duty background in English literature allowed me to write the kind of circular, descriptive sentences that were popular in the early days of historical romance. Using sentences like “The rapscallion raced off with her purse of gold coins, only to be tripped by the gold-knobbed walking stick of Lord Hero” sounded historical. Even translating that sentence into contemporary English causes laughter. How does one translate rapscallion? Rogue and knave come to mind, but they’re certainly not modern! We just about have to use foul language to even come close to the same meaning in modern English. In some ways, contemporary language is extremely limited compared to say, Regency. But then, we have all the NEW words that have been added like bytes and nanoseconds and Blackberries and whatnot that I sometimes have to look up before using. I know many authors litter their contemporaries with the current stock of curse words, but after about the fifth "m..f..er" or its counterparts, those words tend to lose their impact, and I just get annoyed. I want the modern equivalent of rapscallion!
So, are there any contemporary romance readers here today? How do you feel about modern language and conflicts compared to historical ones? What kind of drama would you prefer to see in a contemporary that can’t be done in a historical, or vice versa?
And by the way, the snowstorm finally hit the midwest and apparently blanked out my mind, so sorry for posting so late today!
Friday's Guest - Judith Merkle Riley
Judith Me
rkle Riley will be interviewed this coming Friday by Mary Jo. Judith writes books that have a lot of history, humor, and mysticism. She has a rabid fan base (including the Wenches!) and we're all thrilled that some of her older books are being reprinted. In fact, Crown will be putting out her three Margaret of Ashbury books this year. Put a yellow sticky on your computer reminding you to drop by this Friday while we visit with Judith!
Monday, February 12, 2007
More on Frost Fairs
By Susan/Miranda
Here in Pennsylvania, the temperature hasn’t risen above freezing for the entire month of February and a good part of January as well. Is it any wonder, then, that my thoughts (like Mary Jo’s) have gone back to the great Frost Fairs on the frozen Thames?
From roughly 1500 to 1850, northern Europe suffered through what modern historians call the “Little Ice Age”, with much cooler summers and frigid winters. Such dramatic shifts in climate led to everything from famines to wars, but also to less consequential events, like the Thames (the river that flows through the heart of London) freezing solid. Before the river was closed in by 19th century embankments and diverted by bridges, the depth was more shallow and the current less swift, letting the deep-freeze take hold.
There were numerous times from 1434 onward when the river froze solid enough to be crossed by horses and wagons, but the first organized Frost Fair wasn’t until the winter of 1564-65, featuring archery contests, feasts, and dancing. The Fair of 1607 is the one featured in the novel Orlando by Virginia Woolf. The two most famous Fairs are the one of 1684 (the longest-lasting) and 1814 (the largest and the last, and the one that’s already been mentioned here as appearing in several Regency-set books.)
London during Charles II’s reign was marked by greatness: the Great Plague, the Great Fire, and one kickin’ Frost Fair. From December 1683 until February 1684, the Thames was frozen so solid that not only could men walk safely across its surface, but carts, sleighs, and horses as well.
Like any such phenomenon, the frozen river could be viewed in several ways. Those of a stern
Puritanical bent (Cromwell’s time was still less than a generation in the past) worried that it must be some sign of God’s displeasure with hedonistic London and England in general. Others who were already embracing the interest in science and nature that came with the Age of Enlightenment saw the frozen river as an amazing wonder worthy of scholarly study.
A caption from a contemporary print mirrors the concern that also came with such a harsh winter, and sounds suspiciously like Al Gore filtered through the 17th century:
Though such unusual Frosts to us are strange,
Perhaps it may predict some greater Change:
And some do fear may a fore-runner be
Of an approaching sad Mortality.
But for most Londoners, the frozen river and the Frost Fair on it was mainly one more excuse to party, and to extend the amusements of the Christmas season a little longer.
There was much to entertain visitors all day and well into the night, from bear-baiting to wrestling matches to horse-races, with the horses shod with special spiked shoes. Musicians played, rope-dancers danced, and Punch and Judy walloped away at each other. Many tried the newly imported Dutch sport of sliding in skeets (ice skates), or bought everything from toys to snuff boxes at the two “streets” of shops. Of course King Charles, never one to miss out on a good time, attended with his courtiers.
Like every good popular event, refreshment sellers did a brisk business. An entire ox was roasted near the Hungerford Stairs, but other kinds of roast and stewed meats were offered as well: duck, goose, rabbit, capon, hen, and turkey were all listed as for sale. Visitors could buy coffee, tea, and chocolate, as well as beer, ale, brandy, and sack (one temporary tavern at the Fair went by the elegant name of The Flying Piss-pot), as well as pancakes, sweets, and cakes. After dark, things got wilder, as they usually do when so much imbibing is involved: “And some do say, a giddy senseless Ass/May on the frozen THAMES be furnish’d with a Lass.”
One enterprising printer set up his press on the ice and, for a small fee, would print visitor’s names. As diarist John Evelyn noted: “People and ladies took a fancy to have their names printed…this humor took so universally that it was estimated the printer gained £5 a day, for printing a line only, at sixpence a name.”
The river remained frozen for three months, but everyone knew the fun had to end. Still, when at last the ice began to break up one night in February, the cracking was so thunderously loud that Londoners leaped from their beds and ran into the streets in terror, convinced that the city was being attacked by invading French guns.
This is the Frost Fair I used as a setting in Duchess. Jo wrote earlier about how unexpectedly
inspiration can strike, and as soon as I stumbled across the Fair in my research, an entire scene popped into my head. Sarah Churchill and her friend Anne, then Princess of Denmark, leave the stuffiness of the palace to go riding in a sleigh along the frozen Thames –– one of the few rare places where they are able to speak freely without fear of being overheard. Even swaddled in furs and hooded cloaks, it would have made for an entertaining and exhilarating trip.
So how are you all keeping warm? Do you regard winter as something to be celebrated, endured, or avoided altogether?
Saturday, February 10, 2007
A Conundrum (not a dirty word)
A recent comment I made in answer to Mary Jo's blog about weather, citing a book I wrote but never sold, set me to thinking.
I've published a whole lot of books. 32 and counting. But I've written far many more. And often, the ones I remember most are the ones I couldn't sell. Why weren't they pubished? Well, maybe sometimes, they just weren't good enough. (A bitter thought, but possible.)
I love to write historical romance. At times, though, I tried for a change of pace. In some of those cases the book may have been acknowledged as good, but the subject wasn't what I'm known for: Historical Romance. More often, I was told my timing was off. The subject matter I wrote about wasn't "hot." "Straight" Historicals weren't "in." Historical mysteries were "over." "Nobody wants to read about the Civil War now."
Sometimes the fault lay in the fact that the book didn't easily fit into category. Any category. Where your book is placed in the bookstore is of prime importance, so you must have a category. These days, the publishing world is codified. It's right there on the book jacket in the ISBN - the code it is given. That shows the bookseller where to place it in the store. Even "new literature" has its codes and labels, from "Coming of Age" novels to "Mid-life angst sagas." And if it isn't easy to place, it's often the kiss of death.
There are trends and if you don't fit into them, you don't fit anywhere. How would "Moby Dick" be published today? Not that I am for a moment comparing anything I ever wrote to what I think is the Great American Novel! But where would a code place a novel about an obsessed sea captain and a rogue whale? Nature studies? Crime fiction? Criminal Psychology? Or maybe: Sea Mammals? I dunno. It's a classic now and that makes it simple: "Classic Literature."
The truth is that with modern book outlets as they are, it's difficult to get a novel out that doesn't fit into a slot. I think that's the American public's loss. The same thing holds true for movies and TV shows. Write something new and utterly different and then you might as well sit with a cup selling pencils, because it's going to take a miracle to make money. Sometimes miracles happen.
Once there is a splash, however, everyone jumps in. And pretty soon there's a redundancy. The problem for the writer is how to make that first splash. We know that you, Gentle Reader, are ready to read anything good, and see any film or TV show that is well done and interesting. But how do we convince the publishing, marketing, film-making, TV producing world to know that?
Any ideas?
(And I don't mean just: MOBY DICK, THE MUSICAL, with a singing whale and a tap dancing Captain Ahab... though that IS a thought.....)
Note: Yes Virginia, there is a MOBY DICK THE MUSICAL. We wenches are as shocked as you are.
Tap dancing Ahab, rollerskating Ahab...same difference.
You do have to be crazy...
Hi, Jo here. Perhaps those cherubs are aspects of my muse. Sometimes roses, sometimes.... not.*G*
I had such plans. A new CBK picture. A nifty blog post...
But you know the writing life. Stuff happens! One thing is that today (Saturday) is my RWA chapter's Valentine's Day Brunch, when we congratulate each other on our achievements and encourage each other as we head into the future, and I ended up with a few things to do with that.
One is a gambling game that I've morphed into a "writing life" game. Can't really get into the details here, but unlike writing, no skill is involved. Very like publishing, a whole lot of the game is luck and chance. Good things happen -- let's say the book gets talked about by the TV personality of the moment. Bad things happen, like lines closing, editors leaving, and train wrecks destroying the whole print run. (Yes, that actually happened one. I know one of Suzanne Brockman's books ceased to exist that way.) Is it surprising that we writers are a bit wacky? Truly, you have to be crazy to work here.
And making up realities and writing them down is pretty crazy, too. So I thought I'd say a bit about the process of coming up with the book I'm writing now, which is currently only about 10,000 words old. (The France/nun one I mentioned last week in relation to research.)
Books come to me in many different ways, but this was a bit of a gift book -- that is, the idea and opening scene just flashed into my mind. Who knows where these things come from? I call it a gift from the muse. Like most gifts of the muse, however, "some assembly is required." Okay, it comes in a scattering of strange bits and pieces with no instructions at all. Not even diagrams.
What I got was a young, gorgeous, laid-back Regency libertine -- which pretty well means "free spirited, doesn't it? -- who encounters a plain and sober lady who is desperate to get from point A to point B. They have a charming -- okay, brilliant -- conversation, full of wit and sexy innuendo. Unfortunately my imagination does not have a record button, so that conversation is gone forever.
She's a governess, perhaps, fed up with her employer. Or on the run. Or an heiress trying to escape a tyrannical guardian. I let this concept roll around in my head for a while and kept bumping against a wall of some sort. Bear in mind that I was actually finishing Lady Beware at the time. I sent off LB, tried to get something of this new story down and couldn't. Hmmm. What's the problem here?
I worked on her backstory, but it was becoming incredibly complicated, with bizarre wills and eccentric do-gooder guardians. And whenever I tried to imagine these two off on a road trip that goes from bad to worse, it wouldn't come alive.
Then I realized that the problem is. It's not Regency, it's Georgian. The reasonably safe and well-regulated Regency world won't work for the sort of wild ride I envision these two having. It's going to be at least partly a road book, and Regency roads were too well-maintained, too fast, and too busy. Anyway, Georgian rakes are just much more yummy.
So I tried again, but it was still sulking. I needed to know where they were and where she needed to go. North is good. Wilder in the north. Nope, thatâs not it. West to east is good. Going over the Pennines is always tricky. Nope, not that either. So I wandered into the kitchen for more coffee, said to my husband, "I need to know where these people ARE." He was heading to his office with his coffee, and simply said, "France."
I asked him later why he'd said that, and he had no idea. But of course, they're in France! Even rougher roads, and a despotic system that makes mayhem and tangling with the law much more hazardous.
And then the heroine turned into a nun.
And that's where they are now, somewhere about 10 miles out of Abbeville, heading for Boulogne. Though, of course, everything is still subject to change.
If you're a reader, does it surprise you that books can come to life in such peculiar ways? Even if you don't write, do you get imaginary people acting out movies in your head? Does the idea scare you?
If you're a writer, does this sort of thing happen to you? Do you shoot such chaos on sight or do you enjoy it?
Oh, and by the way. Dragon Lovers will be out in only a few weeks and we four authors have an offer for you. We've created a reminder list. This means that you'll get one, and only one message to tell you when the book is out -- so you can rush out and buy, of course. As an incentive, on the 20th February, we'll draw one name from the list to win a lovely silver and silk dragon pendant. Here it is. 
Then sign up on our web site.
http://www.fourinspired.com
If you're already signed up to a reminder list with one of the authors, don't worry. Those names will be merged in for the draw.
But come back here and talk about the insanity of creation.
Jo :)
Laura
Word Wenches is a blog featuring seven authors, plotting in the present, writing about the past. . . and improvising the rest. Authors include Mary Jo Putney, Patricia Rice, Anne Gracie, Susan King aka Susan Fraser King, Nicola Cornick, Andrea Penrose, & Christina Courtenay.
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