Word Wenches

The King’s Favorite: The Interview, Part Two

An Interview with Wench Susan Holloway Scott by Wench Loretta Chase

Welcome to Part Two of our interview with Susan Holloway Scott.  We’re celebrating the release of her new historical novel, THE KING'S FAVORITE --and I’m delighted to report that the book is already appearing in stores--great news for all who’ve been waiting not very patiently for Nell Gwyn’s story.

For a tantalizing taste, you can read an excerpt from The King’s Favorite at Susan’s web site.  And do visit Facebook, where not only does Susan have a brand-new page,
but so does Nell Gwyn herself.  Stop by and become a friend to both of them.

And don’t forget:  Susan will be giving away an autographed copy of The King’s Favorite to a reader who posts a comment or question to this interview.

Loretta: King Charles II plays, as a monarch ought to do, a major role in both Royal Harlot and The King’s Favorite. But we see a different Charles in this book.  Did you find him more or less sympathetic in the context of his relationship with Nell?

Susan: This has been one of the most fascinating parts of writing this series of books: the same hero, but viewed through the very different perspective of each heroine.  The Charles Stuart in Royal Harlot loved Barbara Villiers Palmer, Lady Castlemaine (another beautiful woman who relished the spotlight of celebrity, shown to the right) almost as an equal.  They were cousins, and she was undeniably a lady, and even at the rancorous end of their long relationship, he always treated her with the courtesy and generosity due her rank. 

But though Charles loved Nell, too, and regarded her as one of his dearest friends, he could not quite forget her humble origins.  While he gave her several houses and a handsome income, he never granted her the same titles or livings that he gave to his other long-term mistresses, and his casual disregard for her feelings is as troubling as Nell’s constant forgiveness of his slights towards her.  Theirs is undeniably a love story between friends, a fairy tale romance between king and commoner, but it’s also sadly a love story where the hero does not always behave as heroically as he should. 

Loretta: So while Nell’s name was the last on the dying king’s lips, he did not provide very well for her.  How do you account for this?

Susan: I wish I could!  Actually, there is documentation that Charles had planned finally to give Nell her long-deferred title as a birthday present, a plan thwarted by his own untimely death.   Always robustly healthy and athletic, he was stricken one night by a series of debilitating strokes, and thanks to the over-zealous bleeding,  purging, and other rigorous attentions of 17th century medicine, died soon after, with no chance to right any of his wrongs to Nell.  I think it was more his characteristic procrastination rather than any willful neglect. His dying words were in fact a plea to his brother James “not to let poor Nellie starve”, but James had other plans on his royal agenda beyond looking after his dead brother’s old mistresses.  (James was especially cruel in forbidding Nell from Charles’s deathbed, claiming that she’d no right to say farewell to the dying king because she had no title.) Nell didn’t starve, but as soon as Charles’s protection was gone and her income with it, creditors swooped down to claim most of her wealth.  When she died soon after Charles in 1687, she left considerable debts –– but also a generous legacy to the prisoners in Newgate.

Loretta: Did your research for Nell show you any aspects of the king’s character you might not have previously considered?

Susan: By the time Charles became seriously involved with Nell (another portrait of her is to the right) in 1668, the first glorious optimism of his early reign had faded.  He was faced with the genuine challenges of a difficult Parliament, lack of funds, a country ravaged by plague and a capital struggling to recover from the Great Fire, as well as the constant danger of war with France and the Dutch.  Despite being called “the Merrie Monarch”, Charles was often plagued with melancholy (what we’d now call depression.)  Nell’s high spirits and ability to amuse him were exactly what the darker side of his personality needed. 

Loretta: You’ve mentioned on the blog and in our conversations the Victorians’ partiality for Nell.  What about her appealed to that straitlaced, hypocritical lot?

Susan: Every generation interprets the past to suit themselves.  The Victorians adored the 17th century, romanticizing Charles I’s doomed cavaliers and Charles II’s Court of wits and gallants and beautiful ladies in plumed hats as if they’d been created by Sir Walter Scott, and glossing over the harsher realities of the Restoration.  Scenes from this sentimentalized version of the Restoration were great favorites of Victorian painters as well, such as this one after Edward Matthew Ward, of Nell improbably directing the king in the rebuilding of London after the Great Fire  Nell’s doll-like beauty appealed to the Victorians, and they fashioned her into a classic fallen-woman-with-a-heart-of-gold, praising her loyalty to Charles and her generosity to the poor, and making her into such a plucky Magdalene that I suspect the real, more earthy Nell would scarcely recognize herself. By all reports, Nell enjoyed the material rewards of her position as much as any of the other royal mistresses, and was especially proud of her elaborate, over-sized bedstead, featuring portraits of her and Charles, their two sons as cupids, and even her rival mistresses allegorically receiving their just desserts –– and wrought entirely of shining sterling silver!  Unfortunately, the Victorian version of Nell, nobly giving away her oranges to the poor, is often the one that appears even today in contemporary histories.

Loretta: There were other men in Nell’s life beyond the king –– Charles Hart, the actor and an early lover; Lord Buckhurst, Lord Buckingham, Lord Rochester –– all fascinating men who played significant roles in Restoration London.  But for me, Rochester was the most intriguing, a lost soul, if ever I’ve met one.  Would you tell us something about this other player in Nell’s life?

Susan: There’s no better definition of a lost soul than John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester, shown here.  Yet another left fatherless by the Civil War, he was regarded as breathtakingly beautiful, funny, intelligent, intellectual, gifted both at writing poetry and the fast-paced banter of Charles II’s Court.  Unfortunately, he was also cursed by self-destructive alcoholism and a true libertine’s taste for sexual adventure and excess, and died badly of drink and syphilis at the age of 33.  The recent Johnny Depp movie (The Libertine) over-simplified his life, as film biographies often do.  He and Nell were fast friends, though apparently never lovers.  Like her, Rochester was much loved by the King for his ability to entertain, and he was fascinated by the make-believe world of the playhouse where Nell reigned as comic queen.  He was often her advisor in financial matters and her advocate with Charles, and she remained his loyal friend through his repeated disgraces and banishments from Court and his last, consuming illness.  I found it fascinating that the same man who wrote some of the most pornographic and bitter poetry about women to be found in English literature could also be so close to a woman like Nell, and their unusual friendship was an important stabilizer in both their lives.

Loretta: You’ve spent quite a bit of time in the Restoration era.  In researching Nell’s story, did you come across anything that surprised or intrigued you? 

Susan: I think I’ve probably had the same experience as most other writers do who love the past: the more you learn, the more you realize how little you still know.  The Restoration is a delicious time in English history, straddling as it does the end of the middle ages and the beginning of the age of enlightenment.  Traitors are still drawn and quartered, their heads stuck on spikes on London Bridge, yet Christopher Wren is rebuilding London into a modern city and Isaac Newton is making revolutionary scientific discoveries.  Much like the Regency era 150 years in the future, the Restoration is a time of tremendous social instability and change, with a mercantile middle class increasing its power while the aristocracy is feeling the first pinch of waning influence.  Add to this unforgettable people like King Charles, Nell Gwyn, and Lord Rochester, and it’s an irresistible setting for any historical novelist.

Loretta: The King’s Favorite offers us a number of glimpses of Louise de Keroualle, a detested rival of Nell’s whose story you’ll be telling in The French Mistress.  Would you give us a preview of this book? 
.
Susan:  Louise de Keroualle (in the painting to the left) was Charles’s last “official” mistress, a lovely French lady whose plump cheeks so delighted Charles that he fondly nicknamed her Fubbs.  The average Englishman was not as charmed: Louise was so despised that she dared not travel around London unattended.  She was loathed as being greedy, petulant, and, worst of all, for being French.  But Louise was far more complicated than that, and more intriguing, too.  Born to a genteel French family, she was sent by King Louis as a “gift” to his cousin Charles, and a spy for the French.  No one ever expected her to find a lasting place in Charles’s heart, and in English history as well.  Click here for a preview of The French Mistress, scheduled for publication next summer.

Thank you, Susan!

And thank you, readers, for joining us--and one more reminder:  One lucky commenter will win a copy of The King's Favorite.

Margaret Evans Porter, Honorary Word Wench & Her Book Winner.

Margaret now joins the elite sisterhood of those who have been Word Wench guests more than once.  Thank you, Margaret!  Your virtual gift is this elegant pair of French opera glasses so you can see the stage properly from your box.                            

Anyone interested in more information about opera glasses can visit The College of  Optometrists site at
http://tinyurl.com/3wdvve   Very interesting!

And the winner of Margaret’s double volume of Signet theatrical Regencies is--<cue the drum roll> Karen Hore, a theatrical history expert from the other side of the pond.  Karen’s comments added to the fun and information.  (Honestly, folks, it really was random chance!)  Congratulations, Karen. 

Thanks again, Margaret.  I’m already contemplating asking you back some day to talk about historical gardens. <G>

Mary Jo

The King’s Favorite: The Interview, Part One

An Interview with Wench Susan Holloway Scott by Wench Loretta Chase

It’s nearly July, which means the arrival of a wonderful new Susan Holloway Scott historical novel, and a chance for me to turn the tables and interview her, starting today and continuing on Monday with Part II.

Susan’s July book The King’s Favorite, like its predecessor, Royal Harlot, takes us to Restoration England.  Once again, Susan plunges us into the thick of things in the second half of the 17th century, bringing to life its enigmatic king, his Court, and his people.  For more about the era, you might want to look at the interview for Royal Harlot, where Susan gives us the lowdown on the Restoration, King Charles II, and his Court.
    This time, however, we see Restoration London from a very different perspective--because the heroine, Nell Gwyn, comes from another world entirely.  Though completely unlike Barbara Villiers Palmer, Lady Castlemaine, the heroine of Royal Harlot, Nell, too, had a place in the capricious king’s heart, and was part of his life for a long time.
    To read an excerpt from The King’s Favorite, please visit Susan’s web site.  And not only does Susan have a brand-new page on Facebook, but so does Nell Gwyn herself.  Stop by and become a friend to both of them.
    Also: Susan will be giving away an autographed copy of The King’s Favorite to a reader who posts a comment or question to this interview, so please post away!

Loretta: Susan, would you bring Nell on stage for us and tell us a little about her world: the London she grew up in and the way she grew up in it?

Susan: Nell Gwyn (one of her portraits is to the right) is a considerable departure from any other heroine I’ve ever written.  Born around 1650, at the very end of the English Civil War, her circumstances were sadly all too common at the time: soon after Nell’s birth, her Royalist father was killed in battle, and her widowed mother drifted into prostitution in London to support her two young daughters.  Her childhood was as grim as anything in Dickens.  Raised in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the city, she lived in lodgings over a brothel, where her now-alcoholic mother brought her male customers. There was never enough to eat, let alone clothing, and as a very young child barefoot Nell was soon working to earn what she could, first sweeping cinders in the street (a real-life Cinderella), then selling herring from a basket.  It was a considerable step up for her when, around age ten, she began serving ale and singing songs in the bawdy-house where her mother and older sister worked.  She was tiny for her age (and remained so throughout her short life, likely from malnutrition), yet astonishingly beautiful, and blessed with both a sunny, light-hearted personality and a very quick, saucy wit –– and a fierce determination to rise in the world. 

She couldn’t have chosen a better time in which to be a young person, poor or rich, in London.  In 1660, Englishmen decided that they’d had enough of grim Puritan rule, and welcomed back the monarchy and Charles Stuart from exile.  London after his Restoration was a delightful place to be, once again full of music, dancing, and frivolous fun.  To a girl like Nell, the handsome young king must have seemed like a fairy-tale ruler come to life, especially with his habit of wandering freely among his people.  Like most every woman in the realm, Nell dreamed of Charles, but unlike most of them, in time she managed to make her romantic dreams a reality

Loretta: You make Nell so real that it’s hard to believe you had so little to work with in realizing her character.  She was illiterate.  She never wrote letters or journals or memoirs.  You had only scraps to work with in creating a woman who is the most famous of the king’s many mistresses and who must have had a considerable comic gift.  But as you’ve mentioned previously, comedy is hard, and recapturing it –– from mere wisps of information –– seems nigh impossible.  What among the scraps of information provided the keys to unlocking her character and what it was that people found so captivating?

Susan: In some ways, there was too little, and in others, too much.  There is almost nothing remaining in Nell’s own voice, and yet because she was such a popular, public figure in her time and afterwards, there are a great many stories and anecdotes about her.  The trick was sifting through all this to decide what sounded true and right, and what clanged false.  I also tried to place her in the context of her world –– or rather, the better-documented version of her world as described by contemporaries like the famous diarist Samuel Pepys –– and create a character that was both true to her time, and to historical fact.

I think the greatest single key to Nell’s personality was her constant need to be the center of attention, which, given her wretched childhood, was understandable.  Seventeenth-century ladies were expected to languish gracefully.  They weren’t supposed to be as witty as the gentlemen, or to enjoy outrageous pranks and pratfalls.  Nell did: but then Nell was not a lady (another portrait of her, looking solemnly lady-like, is to the right). Laughter can be a very potent weapon, and early on Nell learned that being both uproariously funny and very pretty could be an unbeatable combination for attracting –– and holding –– men.  She was an excellent mimic, combined with a gift for biting satire and word-play that entertained even the most jaded courtiers. Humor can also be an excellent way to hide insecurities and doubts, which, I imagine, plagued the barefoot girl from Coal Yard Alley as she scampered among the peers at the palace.

Loretta: Nell became an actress, a highly popular one.  Would you tell us something about the theater of her time and her distinctive place there?

Susan: The rollicking English theater of Shakespeare’s time had been one of the first things banned by Cromwell’s Puritans, and one of the first that Charles restored.  But he also introduced an innovation from the French theater: the women’s roles were no longer played by men and boys, but by women. (That's the original patent for the King's Company, granted by Charles and featuring his portrait.) Overnight there was a demand for actresses, yet it was a rare woman who had the required beauty, talent, and sheer fortitude to withstand the raucous audience interaction that characterized 17th century English theater, particularly the bawdy comic roles.  Most of the new actresses were at least middle-class and literate.  Only Nell made the considerable leap from selling oranges in the pit to leading roles on the stage, but it was a gamble that paid off handsomely for the playhouse’s owners.  Nell was a born comedienne, and while still in her teens she became such a draw that playwrights like John Dryden were writing specific roles for her.  Her presence could make a play a success. She was recognized in the street by her fans, famous artists painted her portrait, and prints of her picture were sold by the score.

Loretta: King Charles had a number of lower-class lovers.  He frequented brothels.  He slept with actresses.  What was it about Nell that made her more than a one-night stand, that raised her to the level of The King’s Favorite?

Susan: While Nell truly believed she was fated to love the king, she was also wise enough not to tumble into his bed at once.  She was already a success in her own right; she could afford to withstand his considerable royal charm.  For a woman who cheerfully called herself a whore all her life, Nell was not promiscuous, especially not for the wanton times in which she lived.  Only four men can be documented as having shared her bed (though many others claimed to have done so), and none of those four were chosen on impulse.

The king was no exception. Nell became Charles’s friend long before she was his lover, and remained his friend until his death.  Charles expected his friends to entertain him; he was a clever, restless man, easily bored and with little patience for tedious company.  Nell’s audacity, humor, and boundless energy captivated him, and they both enjoyed decidedly un-royal pastimes like swimming, fishing, and long walks in the country (though just like many modern city-dwellers who don't have driver's licenses, Nell was terrified of riding horses, one of Charles's great country passions.) While unlike his other mistresses, Nell seldom meddled in politics, she did often say things to him that were so outrageously frank that she would surely have been banished from Court if she’d been a man. Her mimicry and sarcasm could be so sharp that it might have been viewed as subversive, especially coming from a common-born woman. But Charles delighted in her honesty, especially when it was worded to make him laugh, and in many ways, Nell was his perfect match.

To be continued . . . .
Please join us Monday for the second part of this interview, and more about Nell and the extraordinary world in which she lived and loved.

And do please comment:  It's your chance to win a signed copy of THE KING’S FAVORITE!

Margaret Evans Porter: A Love for Theatre Lore

MJP: The amazing Margaret Evans Porter is back with us today, this time with a marvelous overview of British theatre, along with lots of interesting tidbits and mini-bios.  (I love the bit about the sailors. <G>)

She’s also going to give away a book to one lucky person who leaves a comment her between now and Thursday midnight.  It’s a double volume containing two of her Signet Regencies, Dangerous Diversions and Toast of the Town.  Both have theatrical settings, one featuring an actress heroine and one an opera dancer.  What could be more appropriate?  <g>  And now over to you, Margaret!

A Love for Theatre Lore

MEP: I first appeared onstage before I was born—when my mother, a few months pregnant, was in a play.  As a child I did community theatre, in my teens I trained for the stage. At college one of my several major subjects was theatre—performance and history—and I especially enjoyed acting in 17th and 18th century plays.  After leaving the stage I moonlighted as a theatre historian, very useful when writing Regencies and historicals set in the theatre world.  I’m delighted to be invited back by the Word Wenches to discuss theatre history, a topic about which I can be very passionate!  (MJP: That's Margaret onstage on the right.)

After the gloom and doom imposed by Oliver Cromwell in the middle of the 17th century, Londoners were delighted by the resurgence of playhouses with the Restoration.  Then, as in Elizabethan times, theatres operated under the patronage of the monarch and the nobility.  King Charles II was patron to one company of players and his brother James, Duke of York, to another.  The repertory consisted of Shakespeare and Jonson and Marlowe, but new playwrights—commoners, gentry and aristocrats—took up their quills.

Lively Margaret “Peg” Hughes is credited with being the first female actress, appearing as Desdemona.  (She inspired the character in the film Stage Beauty—recommended—portrayed by Clare Danes, less dark and voluptuous than Peg!)  Peg might have slept with Charles II and was Nell Gwyn’s close friend.  Her most devoted protector was Prince Rupert of the Rhine, a cousin of King Charles II, to whom she bore a daughter, Ruperta.  When Peg was in dire financial straits, Nell purchased her necklace of “fifty pearls, evenly matched” for over four thousand guineas. Nell, in a similar situation, later sold it to the Duke of Rutland, who presented it to his third wife. 

Some Restoration actresses were as famed for their artistry as their amours.  Mrs. Bracegirdle was bred to the theatre, performing as a child.  She possessed great talent but only moderate beauty, and was praised for her virtue.  There was much speculation about whether her private reputation matched her public one, for then, as now, people gossiped about the sexual liaisons—real or imagined—of celebrities.  Bracegirdle created several of the best-known roles in Restoration comedy, particularly those written by Congreve.  She also performed tragic roles. 

William Mountford was a gentleman turned actor, from a good Staffordshire family.  According to Colley Cibber, “Of Person he was tall, well made, fair and of an agreeable Aspect, His Voice clear full and melodious.  In tragedy he was the most affecting Lover within my Memory.  In comedy he gave the truest Life to what we call the Fine Gentleman, his spirit shone brighter for being polished with Decency.”  In 1686 he married the budding actress Susanna Percival, daughter of a minor actor.  Mountford had an illegitimate child “by a lady of high rank,” brought up by his wife with their own children.  He was stabbed to death in the street by Captain Hill, who believed jealously and probably erroneously that Mountford was Mrs. Bracegirdle’s lover.  Over a thousand people attended Mountford’s funeral, the King’s choristers from Whitehall sang and the royal organist, Henry Purcell, played. 

The theatre in Drury Lane, designed by architect Christopher Wren, dates from the 17th century.  The original structure survived until condemned in 1793, when reconstruction began on a building that burned in 1809.  Three years later a new theatre opened, with a seating capacity of approximately 3175 persons if pit, boxes and gallery were full.

The first playhouse of the 18th  century (by John Vanbrugh, completed 1705) was situated in the Haymarket and home to Thomas Betterton’s players.  Called the Queen's Theatre to honour Queen Anne, it was afterwards known as the King’s Theatre.  Late in the century and well into the Regency it housed the highly fashionable Italian Opera.

Covent Garden opened in 1732 and plays were performed there till 1847,  when it became the Royal Italian Opera House.  It burned to the ground in 1808 and opened a year later—with much protest and rioting, because of a rise in ticket prices.  Each night 270 wax candles lighted the crystal chandeliers!

In the 18th century London had many theatres.  Some operated only in summer, when Drury Lane and Covent Garden were closed.  Whenever those theatres suffered the seemingly inevitable fire, the lesser theatres provided temporary performance space.

Every provincial city had its theatre.  So did market towns but instead of a resident company of players, a single locally-based company would travel a circuit from town to town.  In summer, the premier London performers visited the population centres to perform their most famous parts.  And to scout fresh talent!

The 18th century was the Age of Garrick, who had been Dr. Samuel Johnson’s pupil.  In his day Garrick was at the centre not only of theatrical but of literary society.  He revered Shakespeare and in 1769 organised a great Jubilee at Stratford commemorating the Bard.  Garrick discovered Sarah Kemble Siddons as a young and struggling actress, and as most of you know, she went on to become the great tragedienne of the late Georgian and Regency era.  Her success enabled her ambitious brother, John Philip Kemble, to become the greatest actor of his age and, with Thomas Sheridan, a manager of Drury Lane.  Between 1783 and 1802, when he became manager at Covent Garden, Kemble performed 120 roles.

A friend and frequent houseguest of lords and politicians, Kemble was devoted to historical truth in stage costume and pageantry—ever seeking realism and romanticism—but apparently didn’t always succeed.  His version of Coriolanus offered up “a pretty exact representation of Hanover Square, and some very neat Bond Street shops appeared two, or three times, as parts of Rome.”

When dressing for Shakespeare comedies, up to the time of Garrick, players wore fashionable modern dress, apart from stock characters like Falstaff or Shylock, who had their own particular garb.  Characters in tragedy wore selected elements of classical attire—breastplates and helmets for warriors—to accessorise contemporary fashion.  Mrs. Siddons once appeared as the Grecian Daughter in “piles of powdered curls, with a forest of feathers on top of them, high-heeled shoes, and a portentous hoop.”  Even if a lead actor’s costume copied history, this fellow players would probably not be so appropriately dressed because they supplied their own garb.  Tragedy queens wore black velvet, sometimes white.

In the late Georgian/Regency era there arose a mania for private theatricals.  Mounted at great expence in aristocratic households, these productions featured amateur players who were coached in their roles by the famous London performers.  In Mansfield Park, Mr. Rushworth is very particular about his costumes for the role of Count Cassel, coming in “first with a blue dress, and a pink satin cloak…afterwards…another fine fancy suit by way of a shooting dress.”  Jane Austen and her family members were fond of playacting.

The counterpoint to the Kembles’ seriousness was Joseph Grimaldi, England’s first clown.  He performed  in the popular pantomimes at the Sadlers Wells theatre from Eastertide through summer and at Drury Lane at Christmas.  His long career began when he was little more than an infant.  Beloved by audiences, he was greatly over-worked by the management.

The Royal Amphitheatre at Westminster Bridge, operated by Philip Astley in the late 18th century into the Regency, was the forerunner of the circus, with “pantomime, buffoonery, and riding. The house is very splendid, and the scenery, decorations, and machinery are in a style of very uncommon elegance.”

Stagecraft was advancing.  Flats were moved into place with ropes rigged from the rafters and by unseen scene-shifters.  Sailors and former sailors, accustomed to working with ropes, made the best scenery men.  Wrote one playgoer in 1817, “Covent Garden Theatre …was shewn to us by Carpenter.  He told us that…the expence of preparing a new Pantomime is something more than 7000 pounds and that to work the machinery of a Pantomime employs 170 persons, who act under the direction of one person who is called Captain.”  Exactly like a ship!

Stage lights consisted of panels of oil lamps for footlights, which might be raised and lowered from below, tripods to provide side-lights from the wings, and reflectors to enhance light, shutters or sliding doors to block light when necessary.

During performances the auditorium was completely illuminated, chandeliers raised high to cast their light upon the full auditorium, with lighted sconces positioned at intervals throughout the house.  This was not the case at European theatres, and incited much commentary by foreign visitors.  Gas lighting for the auditorium was a Regency innovation.

In romance fiction, an actress, dancer or opera singer (I’ve used all three types as heroines in my novels) will eventually win a nobleman’s heart and hand.  Did this actually occur?  Most definitely!  (MJP: Margaret is at the left, looking very like a Regency heroine!)

Lavinia Fenton married the Duke of Bolton (as his second wife).  Eliza Farren left the stage to become Countess of Derby, and was received at Court.  When Louisa Brunton married Lord Craven (courtesan Harriette Wilson’s first protector) her actor father gave her away and her bridegroom “settled 5000 pounds a year upon her.”  Catherine “Kitty” Stephens, a singer much admired by Jane Austen, wed the Fifth Earl of Essex by special licence.  He was past 80 and desperate for an heir before he died—she was 44.  He survived their scandalous union only a year and a nephew inherited the title.  Lord Thurlow married the singer Mary Catherine Bolton.  After being kept by several prominent men and bearing Colonel Berkeley’s two children, actress Maria Foote married Lord Harrington.  Previously he was Lord Petersham—close friend of Beau Brummell, the snuff- fancier of Georgette Heyer’s novels.  Doubtless because of Maria’s dubious past, society shunned this couple and they retired to the countryside.

The greatest achiever at marrying-up was Harriot Mellon.  First she married the rich banker Coutts.  As a wealthy, old and very large widow she snagged the young, slender, impoverished Duke of St. Albans, himself a direct descendant of Charles II and Nell Gwyn.

Oh, mustn’t forget those charming actors!  William O’Brien eloped with Lady Susan Fox-Strangways, Lord Ilchester’s daughter.  William “Gentleman” Smith married Lord Sandwich’s sister—and abandoned her to chase after an actress!

MJP:  Actresses have always had glamour!   Thanks for the wonderful theatre overview, Margaret. 

Leave a comment between now and midnight Thursday for a chance to win a signed copy of Margaret's double volume of Signet Regency theatre stories.  And tell us how you feel about stories built around theatres and actors! 

Mary Jo

The cluttered mind!

Hi, Edith here, there and everywhere.

Recently some of our Wenches have been talking about clutter on their desks and in their homes.

I am here to talk about clutter in my mind.
I never realized that not only is my desk quite literally covered with useless and forgotten items, as is my entire house, but my mind is overflowing with useless information.

I realized this when a kind reader, Charliene Turner, recently emailed me to ask: "Is there any chance that you will write a novel about Leland Grant's younger brother Martin?"

Martin? Grant?
I sat frozen.

The name was sorta familiar.
The brother was not.
Was it something I had written?
I couldn't recall which book or who she was talking about.
I was, I promise you, stricken.

It came to me in the shower one morning. The great Terry Pratchett wrote that ideas come sleeting down through the Multiverse. Mine come pelting down in the shower.

Two books! I had written two books with Leland Grant!

I realized after days of rifling through my cluttered memory, that they both were in the C series I wrote for AVON. Leland Grant, Viscount Haye, was introduced in GYPSY LOVER as the half brother of the hero, Daffyd Reynard. Martin was introduced in HOW TO SEDUCE A BRIDE - Leland Grants story.

How could I have forgotten, even for a moment?
Even if I'd no plans for Martin's story - I ought to have remembered instantly!

Now, understand, I've written lots of novels. I remember most of them, but it appears, not all.

Because, I now see, my poor brain is filled with useless clutter. It is overstuffed with shards of old commercial jingles. I know them all, just start humming and I'll join in. I know the old Chiquita banana jingle - except for one line I always fudged. I have also stored old toothpaste songs; detergent melodies, cereal ditties - the fun commercials down through the ages, in fact. I also harbor popular songs, Broadway scores, themes from favorite TV shows and the actors that appeared in them: every Star Trek episode, old and new generation, for example.

Also, there's a box near my cerebellum stuffed with great lines from every movie I ever enjoyed. Baseball stats. Facts about things I had to know in eighth grade. Friends' obsolete phone numbers, scraps of historical oddities, dates of great wars and peaces, titles of books and names of authors I loved - even back in fifth grade. Who else could immediately name the author of Bambi? (hint: its not Walt Disney.) The compleat works of Louise May Alcott? John MacDonalds Travis McGee series?

My mind is cluttered to the max. So it's not surprising that I forgot. But yes - it is disappointing.

So I dare to ask is it because minds are like computers, and we are assimilating so much we need new memory cards from time to time? After all, we see tragedies and comedies from lands we never knew existed on TV every nightly news. We learn new media every week. We are garnering information daily.

So please, tell me any of you suffer from mind clutter too? Or, if you don't, have you any idea of how to throw out old and now useless data to make room for the new? All contributions gratefully accepted and one random one rewarded with a shiny new copy of my latest book HIS DARK AND DANGEROUS WAYS!

I remember that!

(Although I confess I owe some past winners their books. I know it. Its not due to mind stuffing. I've just had a super busy May and June. Four family birthdays! Proposals to write and proofs to correct. But never doubt. I will send them onward!)

Guests! We Have Guests!

If you've been watching our Announcements sidebar, you'll know we have 2 more guests this month.  On 6/25 Mary Jo hosts returning guest Margaret Evans Porter.  This time around, Margaret will be talking about period theater.

Then on June 27 and 30 Loretta interviews Wench Susan Holloway Scott in connection with the  release of The King's Favorite: A Novel of Nell Gwyn and King Charles II.

Join the fun!  Leave comments!  Win books!!!

Stuff

If I've seemed a bit scatty recently, it's because we decided to sell our house and do the apartment thing. I'm sure you can all imagine just how consuming this sort of thing is. I think about medieval households who packed and moved to a new residence on a regular basis.

Of course they had servants. And much less stuff.

Why do we have so much stuff? How is it that after extensive decluttering, including shipping a truck load to the beloved offspring now living elsewhere, many loads to the dump and charity, plus offerings on Freecycle and Craigslist, we still have too much stuff!

People in the past, even some wealthy people, got by with a lot less, and did just fine because we don't need all this stuff, do we? Of course there were always the inveterate collectors, like John Soane, who had to buy the house next door to hold it all. If you're in London, don't miss this small but fascinating museum, especially if you're interested in late Georgian/Regency living as the house is pretty well preserved as it was and the living spaces are typical. How many people here have been to the Soane Museum?

Wow! I see they have free audio, including an introduction by Stephen Fry, (Jeeves to Hugh Laurie's House. Watching that, and then House, is quite a mind-bending experience.)

You do know that he also played a very unlikely Prince Regent on Blackadder?

Back to the Soane museum. There are some pictures of the interior here.  It's actually a site about selling one's house, which seems appropriate to today's theme.

This is the description of the classic tour of Soane House. "A 60MB ZIP file containing 32 individual MP3 files (totaling 87MB) will be downloaded to your computer. The files will be placed on your desktop or into your audio software (i-Tunes, Windows Media Player or the software that came with your MP3 player or phone). If the files are placed on your desktop, select them all and drag or import them into your audio software. Then transfer all the files to your portable player, following the instructions supplied with your MP3 player or iPod and you're ready to listen."

Isn't that fabulous? I don't have time to listen just now, so if you do and discover something fascinating, share it here.

Back to the stuff. It wouldn't be so bad if I had some Roman pillars and an Egyptian sarcophagus to house, but instead it's too many cups, pillow cases, and waste paper baskets....

Which raises another thought. I got into a discussion online somewhere about when the waste paper basket, by whatever name, came into existence, and what it was called. As I noted above, in the past people had less stuff and threw less away. No paper tissues for the nose. No used-up ball-point pens.  If purchased goods were wrapped, that brown paper or box would be put to some other use. But did that Georgian squire truly not need a receptacle for things of no further use? If so, when did the item come into existence?

Any enlightenment gladly received. Humorous speculation too. :)

Back to the stuff. Does anyone have time to look up the origin and date of the word "clutter?" If it goes back to the Anglo-Saxons, I will despair. And when did we embrace the idea -- but rarely the practice -- of "decluttering?"

Does anyone have any helpful suggestions for breaking this magnetic attraction to excess stuff?

Despite the above, I actually like things around me. I couldn't live in a minimalist abode, with every surface clear except for a carefully placed piece of stark art. Flat surfaces are made to be put upon, says I. And many inclined ones, too! I like quirky objects, interesting fabrics, plants, fountains and bells everywhere. (Which box are my fountains in?)

It's the stuff I don't need, and don't even want that's driving me scatty. Why, why, why? Look around you and tell me the nearest piece of "stuff" blighting your world -- by which I mean, something you don't need, don't want, and would be better off without. (And no, it can't be one of your nearest and dearest.*G*) If possible, take a picture. You can't share pictures in comments, but I can share some later.

On Saturday night, round about midnight pacific time, I'll pick the best, or worst, one, and the winner will get a free book. But ONLY if she or he has already got rid of that bit of stuff. Oh, and the picture at the top? Cabbage Patch Kids might be stuffed, but are never "stuff." Flowers can sometimes be stinky and a prelude to unwanted seed-heads, but they're not stuff either.

Is "stuff" always manufactured by humans? There's a depressing thought.

 

Cheers,

Jo -- back to the boxes, seeking fountains -- water, wisdom, whatever....

 

What If--I'm a rebel?

Pat here!

A couple of weeks ago, Jo wrote: (link) “So, what do you think about this? If, let's say, the Japanese had  a thriving fiction market for books set in America, with American characters, but those characters followed Japanese social patterns and values, would it bother you?”

She was concerned about Americans imposing their self-made-man philosophies on English historical characters.  Since most of the historical romances I’ve read recently tend to be about dukes and earls, I haven’t seen a lot of the noble boot-strap heroes, but I’ll assume they’re still out there somewhere. 

My concern, however, was the question about imposing the values of other countries and times on historically different cultures, and after I gave it some thought, I don’t think I have a huge problem with it--unless we have Ashlee winking at the duke in 1790 and whispering "c'mon, dude."  I think the intelligent juxtaposition of cultures could be mind broadening, or at least, eye-opening, and this is, after all, is one of the virtues of fiction.  History is history, of course.  If we’re writing romance and not alternative history, then we ought to stick with historical facts where feasible.  But why not experiment with imposing the reader’s culture on the characters of people in another time and country? Wouldn’t it help the reader to better perceive differences by comparing and contrasting?

Besides, it’s not as if fictional people are historical fact, or that we can impose our assumptions of what people were like “back then” on the world as a whole.  My assumption is that—despite culture—people are people everywhere.  We can generalize and say the English aristocracy in the Regency were a self-satisfied lot not driven by ambition or interested in exploring new worlds, but that’s not to say there weren’t a few adventurers eager to make their fortunes the old-fashioned way.  And maybe, in general, Americans in the 19th century west were driven people pulling themselves out of poverty through working the land, but who is to say that there weren’t some just as hide bound by generational legacies as the Japanese? 

In fact, I’ve more or less deliberately imposed current events and issues on historical ones with the Mystic Series, then invented an imaginary island to play them out on, so obviously, I don’t have a problem with fooling around with reality. <G>  I think that’s the whole fun of fiction—saying “what if?” 

It’s historical fact that the over-taxed, over-worked bourgeoisie of revolutionary France aided and goaded the destitute and enslaved poor to rebel against the decadent aristocracy. That’s the reality. If I want to create a middle-class heroine who supports the revolution (this is in the beginning, before heads begin to roll), then even though she could be accused of having a modern mind, I’m still sticking with historical reality because  women were some of the major instigators of the revolution.  I give my heroine the same emotions as any woman when part of her family is imprisoned and endangered.  I don’t think I’m imposing my modern beliefs on her when I have her bribe the jailer.  I can assume that most women of the time period would have left the problem to their men, but in this case, my heroine’s father is out of town, so I don’t think I’m going too far outside of reality to have her send the butler out with a bribe.

Of course, I’m hoping by laying down that ground of reality, the reader will buy into the hero from a foreign land who gallops in and tries to save the imprisoned king while rescuing the heroine and reclaiming the sacred cup that my heroine has used as bribe.  I doubt seriously any Frenchman of the  time would have attempted such magical feats—but a Swiss one did attempt to save the king (that's Count von Fersen on the right).  So, again, there are levels of reality, and I think as long as we’re dealing with human nature, that we have a lot of leeway. And while we may personally perceive a time and place as clinging to a certain structure—as long as people are involved, we cannot say every person within that spectrum would behave the same. And a good story will use those differences to create conflict.

Admittedly, I’m pretty open minded (to the point of having no mind at all sometimes!), but what matters is how readers think since they’re the ones buying the books.  So let’s hear it—how far out on a limb do you think we can go with our characters?  Does a Regency romance character have to adhere to Heyer’s view of the world for you to be happy?  Is it outlandish to think an Englishwoman of the late 18th century might admire American freedom if she’s living a confining life?  And doesn’t throwing this kind of kink into a character —forcing them to contemplate something life-changing—create the substance of a story? Or would you prefer simply throwing in an unexpected love interest as world shaking enough?

And because I just received a huge stack of MYSTIC RIDER author copies hot off the presses, and I’m wondering how I’ll get rid of them all, I’ll have Sherrie draw a name from commenters posting before midnight Pacific coast time on Thursday evening.  So, fire away!

An Inventory

Susan Sarah here, waking up with sniffles, fever and sore throat--ugh!--so the day isn't starting out quite as I'd planned. Having finished a whirlwind copyedit, I was all set to blitz through cleaning up my desk and office, get all those little ducks in a row, and move forward on the current book project. Plowing through the assorted flotsam and jetsam on the desk can be a daunting task, and one I’m usually more than willing to procrastinate.

However, instead of moving ahead, I am stuck here feeling like crud, whupped by a virus that oh-so  cleverly masqueraded yesterday as allergy symptoms (we were out picking cherries from the cherry trees in the backyard), and now has revealed itself as something to be reckoned with. I’m sitting here staring at what ought to be done, mustering the energy to do something about it. When the window is small and definite and there are things on the docket, often a force greater than ourselves (aka, a dastardly Rhinovirus) can quickly interfere with even the best-laid plans.

I’ll pluck another tissue from the box, drop another of those fizzy wafers with Vitamin C, zinc and whatever-else into a glass of water (generic or brand-name, that stuff definitely seems to help), and I'll go crawl back under the covers for a while … but first I thought I’d at least take inventory of what’s on the desk.

There’s the stuff that needs to be filed, shelved or tossed … there are things that stay here for the duration of a book project ... and there are things that I keep on or near my desk -- things with meaning or that inspire me, things that remind, support, distract, nudge, etc. And then there's a layer of accumulated Stuff, the ephemera as well as the essentials that cross every writer's path daily. I've never quite figured out what to DO with all this stuff -- we live in an age of an excess of information -- and for me, the occasional purge seems to be the best solution. I'm not one to keep on top of things. That would be too left-brained for me. I tend to thrive on a little comfortable chaos; when it gets past that point, it's time to act.

My desk at this very moment:

1.       Flat screen monitor with sticky notes: “Writing novels is the most fun I’ve ever had” – Sidney Sheldon (sometimes true, sometimes NOT); notes on a couple of appointments that I need to remember

2.       Two yellow legal pads; one covered in scribbled notes taken during the copyedit; one filled with notes for the book-in-progress about Queen Margaret of Scotland

3.       My cell phone, which I’d better put back in my purse before I go out tomorrow

4.       Hand sanitizer; I have a cold; that stuff didn’t work this time...

5.       Rescue Remedy – a must-have, it is fabulous

6.       Small tabletop stereo with a little pewter dragon sitting on it

7.       A phone cradle, but where’s the cordless phone that goes in it?

8.       Sticky notes and colored tabs left over from the copyedit

9.       Two or three black and white composition books (green and blue, to be exact). I often use these for notes and thoughts, and have for years; they’re simple and straightforward, tough and easy to tote around, easy to find and always affordable, and can be neatly stacked on a shelf (sometimes I even do that)

10.   A book of harp music; I’m taking lessons in Celtic harp, and currently I’m in the plink-plonk-ploink stage; nothing to boast about, trust me

11.   Bunches of pens, pencils, highlighters, scissors etc., in a red plaid bucket

12.   Lavender hand lotion

13.   A couple of little angels (for years I’ve collected angels in all sizes, shapes and sorts; there are some in nearly every room in the house now)

14.    A fairy in a waterglobe

15.  A Scottish elf captured in a jar

16.   Stacks of CDs that need to be put away

17.   A deep scattering of printed e-mails, notes and reminders …

18. A vase of yellow carnations and heathery fronds

19.   And somewhere under all this, a desk surface

I am contemplating taking a shovel to this stuff, but for now I think I’ll shut down the computer and go crawl away with my box of tissues to fetch a cup of tea. Tomorrow I’ll tackle this task...

Meanwhile, what’s on your desk? What is always there, brings you luck and inspires you? What should you toss but keep procrastinating over? And are you the master of your environment, or does it take over until you finally muster forces and deal with it?

~Susan Sarah

And the Wieners are. . .

. . . Linda Blanche and Rebecca! 

Linda, you have won a pristine copy of His Dark and Dangerous Ways from Edith.  Rebecca, you have won a crisp new copy of Your Scandalous Ways from Loretta.  In order to claim your prizes you'll need to send your mailing address to me, Sherrie.  (Just click on my name)  Congratulations, Linda and Rebecca!

All Hail Honorary WordWench Kalen!

Thank you so much, Kalen, for enlightening us regarding pins, stomachers, and other such important Georgian niceties.  Since you're already an Honorary WordWench, we can't bestow that particular honor again.  But we can offer you this splendid 18th century Venetian wardrobe (the Ca' Rezzonico on the Grand Canal is holding it for you) to stash away your fabulous collection of two-hundred-year-old clothing, and wish you all the best with the sales of Lord Scandal.  Hail Kalen!

A Georgian Lady's Wardrobe

Susan/Miranda, stepping up to the podium to welcome frequent commenter Kalen Hughes back to the blog....

Kalen Hughes’s new book, LORD SCANDAL, is a June 08 release and she’s here to talk about the clothing of the late Georgian era. Romantic Times Book Reviews described Kalen’s take on the late 18th century thusly: “Hughes' lusty, emotional second romance perfectly depicts the Georgian era in all its naughty glory -- with house parties, races, matchmaking, gossip rags and duels. This author is on her way to stardom.” For  more about Kalen the author as well as her books, please stop by her site: www.kalenhughes.com.

Since the age of three, Kalen has been involved in various living history events from the Middle Ages to the Roaring 20s. She is an expert historical seamstress as well as a scholar of fashion and clothing. We're delighted to have her as a resource here today. Let the questions begin!

Hi, everyone. It's so wonderful to be back here. I had such a great time last year when my debut book, LORD SIN, came out and I visited the Wenches and talked about Regency fashions. This time around I’m going  to go back in history a bit and take a look at the fashions of the parents and grandparents of those Regency era characters (several of the Wenches write Georgian-set books, so this is familiar territory for them and hopefully for many of their fans).

The clothing of the Georgian era is heavier than that of the Regency. The fabrics are richer, the corsetry is stiffer (though I personally find 18th century stays to be the most comfortable of all), and everything just seems a little grander (in presentation as well as scale). Hoops (called panniers by the Victorians) and false rumps or bums (more familiar as the Victorian “bustle”) were worn throughout the period. I’m going to concentrate on the fashions of the transitional 1780s/1790s (when my books are set), but if you have questions about earlier eras, just ask!

The underpinnings are a tad more involved than those of the Regency. Our Georgian heroine would still  be wearing a basic white linen shift, stockings, garters, and stays (no drawers!). Her stays (corset) would be much heavier and much stiffer than those of her Regency-era daughter, and she’d be wearing some kind of contraption to pad out her hips. The large hoops of the mid-century have gone the way of the dodo (which of course, still exists in the 1780s). The fullness of the skirts has moved from the side to the back, and false rumps (bum pads) are now worn to plump out the skirts (rather like an Elizabethan bum roll). These pads could be made of wadding (rather like a pillow) or they could be made of cork. This fashion lead to cartoons like the one shown here called “The New Regatta” which shows several women shooting the Thames, balanced on their rumps. Women’s fashions have always been open to the wicked pen of the satirist.

Over all this she would have worn her gown. It might be a robe á l'anglaise (sadly the wonderful a robe à  la française, which its hanging pleats had gone out of style for everything but court). These styles of gown are usually open at the front (below the waist), allowing the petticoat to be seen (note: “petticoat” applies to all of a woman’s various skirts during this time period, not just to those that are underskirts). The petticoat could be made to match or of contrasting fabric. If not “open” the gown would have an “apron skirt” which was sewn in at the back, but was open at the sides and was pulled up to tie around the waist (under the bodice of the gown). The gown could be made with a “compère” front (meaning that it fastened closed over the chest) or it could be made to be worn with a separate stomacher. Regardless, the dress most likely pinned shut. Yes, pinned. A lady’s pin money wasn’t so much for sewing as it was to buy the pins required to keep her gowns on! The main alternative to pinning was for the lady to be sewn into the gown (try getting that back on at a ball, LOL!). A very few gowns, comparatively, laced shut or were held closed with hook and eyes.

A lady of this period might also have worn the newly popular Perriot jacket and a petticoat, or she might even have worn the very daring robe à la rein (or chemise gown), made popular—and infamous—by Marie Antoinette. As the 1780s pass into the early 1790s, the fashions of the Revolution come to England and we begin to see “round gowns” (meaning that the gown goes all the way around the body, no separate petticoat necessary), usually worn with some kind of open robe over them (think of gowns worn by Marianne in the Emma Thompson version of Sense and Sensibility).

I know this is a bit bare-bones (oh the pictures I could show you if I had unlimited room and time) but I think I've covered the basics. I'm more than happy to answer questions, show you more pictures and explain any garments you might have questions about. I even have some images of the insides of gowns if you want more info on just how they worked. So ask away!

Cover Copy Coward

Pat here:

Since it has been pointed out to me that my new book, MYSTIC RIDER (excerpt) , will be hitting the stands on July 1st, and that the purpose of this blog is to promote our writing (really, I thought it was an outlet for my excess energy and opinions but I’ll humor them), I suppose I need to find a scintillating subject that will persuade our loyal readers to order the book immediately.

Unfortunately, finding the right verbal “hooks” to entice and seduce has ever been a failing of mine. I'm a selfish witch. I write about what tugs at my heart or catches my interest and in most cases, both--- not necessarily what provides tempting cover copy.  I used to read the back blurbs of my contemporaries and wish I had written that book, because they certainly didn’t describe the stories I thought I had written. Perhaps I could ask marketing to write the blurbs and then I could write the book?

Anyway, instead of our usual rants about what we like or don’t like about covers (the artwork on mine is incredible, in my humble opinion, so I’m not about to complain—lightning staffs, so very cool!), I thought I’d dissect the back cover copy of MYSTIC RIDER for our amusement and delectation.

Keep in mind that the words on the back are a collaboration.  I fault no one for the result, especially since I had a minor hand in it myself—if only to verify that the names were correct.

Let us start with “Chantal Deveau has applied her musical gift to writing impassioned anthems for the French Revolution.”  I rather envisioned her elaborating on the war tunes of the times as so many did, except her magical additions tend to inflame the hearts of men in the same manner as her voice stirs people to action, and she doesn’t realize either, so…  Close enough and probably more dramatic than my long-winded explanation. 

Next: “But now that the mob has imprisoned her family, she seeks to buy their freedom with her one valuable possession: a jeweled cup.”  No mob involved, and she believes the cup is a bell, but…subtlety is best explained inside, I guess. Either way, her in-laws and young niece and nephew are in the lock-up, and she's likely to slay someone with a piano if she doesn't get them out soon.   

“When a tall, dark stranger enters her home and demands she give him her prize, her outrage is nothing compared to her powerful sensual response to his presence…and her startling conviction that their lives are irrevocably entwined.”  Ahem. Ian Olympus is a giant among men, practically a demi-god, a near Oracle, a man of gifts beyond even his own knowledge—reduced to a tall dark stranger.  And I’m not at all certain that Chantal has a clue that their lives are entwined, but let’s say they do what bunnies do, and she’s not averse to the experience.  I don’t generally write scenes like that at the beginning of a book, but let’s face it, how many women will satisfy a reclusive demi-god? And she’s living in Paris at a time when sexual excess was the norm. So once Ian meets his match…  Okay, my version is much better than theirs, but it takes too long. Got it.

“Ian recognizes Chantal as the intended mate revealed to him in a vision long ago. But even he is astounded by the lightning swift attraction he feels for a woman not of his world.”  His vision shows blood and war and the sacred chalice along with the woman and tragic music, but why muddy up sex with details?  Let’s make no mistake here, Ian is on a quest, and the woman just happens to be in his way. Or well, really, with a sentient chalice dealing the cards, everything is in the way, including sex. The cover copy makes it seem so…easy!

“Now he must choose between duty and desire—and open his heart to possibilities that even he could never have foreseen.”  Admittedly, I give the marketing people way too much to work with.  An island on the brink of destruction, a man whose intended mate is a rebel who can only add to his troubles, an escaping royal family, a sentient chalice…and a villain with strengths that exceed the hero’s.  Gee, let’s reduce all that to duty and desire.  Simple, sweet, and let no history impinge on the product.  (that's Louis XVI to the right, not Ian!)

Now I’m totally convinced I need to write the back cover copy before I write the book.  I did give them this blurb:  An enigmatic leader with powerful physical and psychic abilities believes he must sacrifice himself to save his island home, until he encounters a musically gifted free spirit who requires his aid to save her own world, and he must choose between living without his home or dying with it.  But obviously, that wasn’t dramatic enough.

I know back cover copy is a huge selling point for readers.  How often do you rely on it?  How often does the copy match what you find inside?  How often does the copy leave you disappointed in the story…or vice versa? Do you appreciate being seduced by marketing copy? (I know that's loaded, but I can't think of a better way to say it--marketing manipulates. That's its purpose.)

Oh, and I’m supposed to mention that I’ll be doing an interview on Thursday, June 12th, at 8:30 pm East Coast time at http://www.blogtalkradio.com/Circle-Of-Seven . You can call in at 646-200-4071 to ask questions.  I’ve never done internet radio before, so I’m hoping someone will show up! And the podcast or whatever they call it will be available anytime after the show.

Edith Layton: His Dark and Dangerous Ways & Interview, Part the Second

By Mary Jo

Friday Edith and I talked mostly about her wonderful new release, His Dark and Dangerous Ways, from Avon.  (The perceptive will note that another June release is Loretta's Your Scandalous Ways.  Why two Avon historical romances in the same month have Ways in the title is A Mystery.) 

Today I'm asking Edith more about her writing career in general, from earliest stirrings to how she's grown and changed over the years. 

MJP:  Edith, how did you start writing?  Were you making up stories in kindergarten with a pencil clutched in one chubby fist, or did you come to the trade later?  And might you have ended up an sff writer?

EL: I began writing when I was eight.  I remember the year, because my parents had sent me away to camp - which I hated.  So I wrote a 'revenge of the camper' book.  I still recall the plot: Our Heroine is sent away to Camp.  She hates it.  She runs away. ( fade to scene of parents anguishing.  “Oh woe!  Why did we send  her to that terrible camp?  Oh poor us!”)

Our heroine finds a lovely family of “hill-billies” who take her in.  (Hill-Billies?  In upstate New York?) Nonetheless they love Our Heroine.  She explains things to them.  One thing I distinctly remember -  her telling them that lightbulbs are not “little bowls for fish.”

Ah. youth.

Eventually she goes home.  Much celebrating. The fatted knish is served.  Parents vow to never ever send her to Camp again.

Fin.

A whole, real book!  And I wrote it.  I cheated, though.  I bought a marbleized notebook, and when I ran out of description and dialogue, I illustrated it, so it would fit, cover to cover, like a real book.

It was one of many items thrown away when we moved.  We moved a lot. sigh.

Then I wrote poetry.

When I was eleven I wrote one that I showed to my brother - the English Major at college.  He said it was too good for a child to have written.  That evidently I had read it somewhere and "unconsciously" plagiarized.  (He was also taking an Elementary Psych course)  I tore it up and never wrote poetry again.  It also gave me a lifelong terror of plagiarizing.  Which isn't all bad.

(Note from MJP: Many people who grow up to become professional writers are accused early of plagiarism because they're "too good."  It's a real joy-killer)

Then I wrote short stories.

I also used to write plays, once upon a time, in college.  I was good at it, too!  Had a one act produced and won a prize, even.

But the field was murder to get into.  Especially for a woman.

So then I wrote publicity.  Then, free lance newspaper and magazine features - that were published!

And then—novels.

One of my first efforts at a novel was Science Fiction.

MJP:  How did you become interested in writing historical novels?

EL: After writing all that freelance stuff I needed more room.  I decided to go with a novel.

I wrote the above mentioned Science Fiction novel, a Mystery, and a Historical Romance (because I so loved Georgette Heyer) and sent them all out.  I loved them all, but decided to go with whatever sold first.  I sometimes wonder what my life and work would have been like if I'd sold one of the others first.

MJP:  What was your first book, and how well do you think it characterizes your latest work?

My first published book was The Duke's Wager for Signet.  Took me over two years to sell it.  (I've told that story too often!)  And then, turns out it was reprinted it a lot.

It's a “traditional regency.”  In spite of the setting, it's not much like my latest works.  My style was denser, more circuitous then.  More: "Regency."   A single sentence could run for half a page.

My latest work, like other recent ones, is more modern, freer.  Less “Regency speak,” too.

I guess the difference is if you took one of my pages from Wager and put periods in instead of commas wherever they appear, you'll get the gist of the difference. 

MJP:  What was the biggest mistake you made when you first began writing?

Starting every book with weather.  Rain.  Or snow.  Or fog.  I  liked to do settings, as in Victorian novels.  I'm not sure that was a mistake, but we just don't do that anymore.  And I'm not sure if that's better, actually.

MJP: I loved those moody, scenic introductions!  Not for nothing were you called The Weather Queen.  Which of your characters is your favorite, and why?

EL: Ah.  That's like asking which of my children is my favorite.  I don't know, can't say, and besides, my opinion changes every day.   <g>

MJP:  Which book, if any, was the most difficult for you to write, and why?

EL:  No one book in particular.  Some come easy, like fresh laid eggs: immediate, whole and perfect.  Others need constant tinkering.  Some need heaps of research and timelines. 

Some were books I wrote for SIGNET: The Crimson Crown, about the Princes in the Tower, The FIreflower, about the Restoration and the Great Fire of London, the “straight” Historical, Queen of Shadows (written as Edith Felber) about Edward Second's wife, Isabella and more. 

I also had two books set  in Victorian America: The Gilded Cage and The Silvery Moon for SIGNET;  and The Wedding and A True Lady set in Georgian Times for POCKET, and even more. 

Yes, I've traveled through time, and love to do it.  Even others set in periods I know very well sometimes give me even more work - if the characters are difficult and rebellious once I start writing them.

MJP:  What do you consider key elements of a great story?

EL:  Great characters.  That, to me, is the most important thing.  And the writer's “voice.”  My favorite authors give me that.  I try to write that way too.  Plots are important, of course.  But, as with movies I love, it's the characters that make them great.

MJP:  Are there any trends you hope to see in romance in the next few years?   

EL: More history in historical novels.  Not just "wallpaper" for the backgrounds.

MJP:  What is the best part about being a writer?  The most frustrating?

EL:  The best?  I'm doing what I must.  I really don't think I had a choice.  I write.  That's that.

My mother tried to write a novel.  My brother was a news writer.  My brother-in-law was a famous comedy writer. 

Two of my kids are writers.  (One is a visual artist, but I’ll stick to the writers today.  <G>)

Adam's book Schrodinger's Ball came out last year.

He performs comedy too.  He also writes for Bill Maher on TV, and is on NPR's WAIT WAIT, DON'T TELL ME.  His website:  www.fanaticalapathy.com. 

MJP: I love listening to Adam on Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me, which is one of the funniest shows on radio. ( http://www.npr.org/programs/waitwait/ ) He’s got a great deep voice, and he’s amazingly good at news quizzing.  When he’s on, he usually wins.

EL:  My daughter Susie performs comedy and writes as well.  She does the TRU TV (formerly Court TV) website, and has a blog on www.babble.com:  http://www.babble.com/cs/blogs/toddlertube/default.aspx  and she also has one at:  http://felberfrolics.blogspot.com/

So I guess it's really in the blood.  If I don't write for more than a week, I have nightmares.  True!

The most frustrating thing about writing?  Sometimes the plot, characters and concept turns out altogether different from what I thought it would be.  That's no necessarily bad, but it is frustrating.  That - and not being able to sell a book (shudder)  of course. <g>

MJP:  We haven't even touched on your wonderfu novellas or lots of other questions, so we'll have to do this again someday! 

Remember—a signed copy of His Dark and Dangerous Ways goes to someone who comments on either of Edith’s interviews by midnight Wednesday.

Thanks so much for sharing, Edith.  I shall cherish the image of the goose dancers forever. <g>

Mary Jo

Edith Layton: His Dark and Dangerous Ways, Part the First

  Interview of Edith by Mary Jo

I first met Edith Layton long, long ago, at my very first romance conference, when my first book was sold but a year away from publication.  She and Barbara Hazard graciously invited me, the newby Signet Regency author, to join them for a drink.  It was like dining with goddesses. <G>  Edith’s daughter, the Amazing Susie, was there, about ten years old and already Amazing. 

Edith was at that conference (an early Romantic Times) to accept the award for the best Regency of the year.  The speech was most charming, and the book, Lord of Dishonor, was wonderful.  Thus began an acquaintance ship of 22 years and counting. 

Some of my very best memories in this business were of the author dinners given by our mutual editor of many years, Hilary Ross.  Those dinners were wonderful in many ways, and many of those authors have been friends ever since.  (Pat Rice is another alum.) 

But the very, very funniest parts were when Edith would slip into deadpan comedy routines that were roll-on-the-floor-and-drum-your-heels hysterically funny.  It’s no surprise that two of her kids are professional comedians!  More about that later. 

With so much material, this is will be a two-part interview, today and Monday.  Edith won’t be available for commenting the whole time, but will come as available, and one lucky commenter will get a signed copy of her latest, the delicious His Dark and Dangerous Ways. 

So today Edith will talk about the book and historical writing in general.  Monday she’ll talk about her writing and life. 

Edith Layton: My newest book, His Dark and Dangerous Ways, came out this week! It was inspired by my daughter-in-law, Jeanne, who is an actress, dancer, writer (of course) and choreographer.  I visited her and Adam in LA last year.  At the time Jeanne was giving dancing lessons to a toddler in a huge house in Beverly Hills.  Soon other Beverly Hills mothers grew fascinated and sent their children, so that it became a class.  Jeanne took me along to watch.  I was struck by her technique - and the entire concept.

A Beverly Hills manse became a town house in Regency London.  My daughter in law became a struggling young woman who had to support herself by teaching dance to toddlers of the ton.  And voila!  The book took off by itself from there.  And Our Hero is a dark and dangerous fellow she meets when she literally tumbles at his feet.

MJP: The dance scenes were delightful!  The book is very romantic and Regencyish, and I’m guessing it didn’t take a lot of research other than watching Jeanne.

But you have written other books that are really heavy duty historical research.  Tell us about that.  I remember you saying after you visited the Tower of London for information when you were writing about the Princes in the Tower in The Crimson Crown, you met the warder who was the absolute expert on the Tower during that period, and when you asked him questions, his answers were all pretty much, “That could very well be, Madame.”  I think you’d already learned all there was to know. <G>

EL: When I went to England to research the Great Fire for The Fireflower, I roved with a copy of “Historic Britain” and a map, and was crushed, I tell you, crushed, when the only remnant remaining was a pub that had supposedly survived the fire.  But it had been so refurbished it might as well have been a McDonald’s. There was a bronze plaque on the sidewalk, though.  To show where it started.  Bah.

I researched for every book!  That was great.  I love going to England.  I still have to write a book set in Wales, because I loved the land and kept going back.  How come there are so many Historicals set in Scotland and so few in Wales?  I still dunno.

When I researched Crimson Crown, the two kidz we had with us, Adam and Susie, could not stop teasing me, saying that they'd just sighted a “Perkin Warbeck” store.  At first, I believed them.  I still think it would be good business to open one.

A Perkin Warbeck shoppe would carry Perkin Warbeck tee shirts, pennants, snow globes, beanies, and such.  I really hoped to find one.  What I found was that I might have been the only person in England who knew who Perkin was.  He was, of course, the most famous Pretender to the throne (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perkin_Warbeck ), except for Simnel Lambert (or Lambert Simnel?) also a pretender to the throne in the same era. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lambert_Simnel )

How soon we forget!

MJP: Clearly it’s time to start a SouvenirsofPretenders.com website.  <g>

Here’s the charming start to His Dark and Dangerous Ways:

The door to the front parlor where they sat was ajar.  Even a lady such as this couldn't entertain a gentleman with it closed, at least not in the morning when another caller might drop in.  So the hysterical giggling and high-pitched screaming coming from down the hall was clearly audible, along with the sound of marching, jumping, and clumping feet.
"Your moving men certainly are jolly fellows, my lady," he commented. "I didn't know you were relocating.  May one ask where you are going?"
"Nowhere," she snapped.  She was ambitious, but no fool; her smile reappeared in seconds.  "I have a young daughter," she said, "Today she has a dancing lesson, and we invited some of her little friends to join in."
"Dancing lessons," he said with a great show of surprise.  "But, surely, she's an infant."
She smiled again.  "So she is.  She's but an infant with only two years in her cup.  But I love to hear her laughter."  She cast down her gaze modestly.
"You certainly have opportunity to," he said, as great thumping sounds of marching were heard, accompanied by the hammering of a tin drum and much giggling.
"The dear creatures, I should love to see them," she said piteously. "But they are exiled to the ballroom because there are so many things to break in here."
"Like eardrums," he said agreeably.
"Should you like me to ring and ask them to stop?" she asked eagerly, raising an arm to the tasseled cord hanging beside the settee, as another gust of laughter was heard.
"No, not at all," he said.  "They seem to be enjoying themselves enormously.  I don't want to be the cause of their being told to be still.  Children need exercise and dancing can't be taught too early."
He rose to his feet.  "I came without warning, as it is.  May I come another morning when they are out of doors, so we can speak?  Or better yet, when your ankle is healed so that we can go for a ride to the park?"
"Oh yes," she said with a sparkling smile.  "What a good idea.  In a day?  Two days, perhaps?  I should be vastly improved by then."
He had a fairly good idea that she could hop off the settee in an instant and leg it down the hall, but her pose on the couch was alluring and the excuse for it had condemned her to remaining with it today.
"In two days then," he said, bowed, and left the room.  But he didn't leave the house.  Instead, he stopped in the outer hall, cocked his head to the side again, listening.  "They're having such a good time," he told the butler.  "I'd love to see them at their play.  "May I?"
"Certainly, my lord," the butler said, and led him down the hall to the source of the merriment.
The ballroom was shrouded in white drop cloths, but they had been pushed back to clear the polished wood center.  An aged governess sat at a pianoforte and pumped out music, but the noise from the children was louder.  Simon stood in the doorway and watched as a ragged, giggling parade of them passed by him.  An extraordinary young woman led the rag tag procession. She had a lithe body, padded sweetly where it ought to be.  But it was her legs he noticed first.  He could hardly help it.
She'd hitched her skirts up and swagged them at her waist, so that they dropped to her knees, leaving the rest of those shapely limbs free and unencumbered.  Her straight honey colored hair had also been pulled up on the top of her head, but now strands of it came coiling down around her oval face, which was pink with exertion.  A passably lovely young woman, he thought.  But at the moment she looked more like a goose than a goose girl.  He smiled.
Her long neck bent forward, and her firm derriere pushed back and outward, making her supple form into an S shape.  She stepped with her feet turned all the way out as she chanted, "Honk, honk: make way for the geese." 
Behind her, like so many drunken little goslings, a hilarious assortment of young girls, weaved and honked, tripping over their own feet.  They wore a gypsy kaleidoscope of tulle and scarves, coronets and feathers, and every little foot wore tiny dancing slippers.
"There, that's our little lady Leticia," the butler murmured fondly, indicating the lass clomping along just behind the dancing instructor. The child was beating a tin drum.  She wore a flowing gauze skirt and had a tinsel tiara on her blond head.  As Simon had thought, if Lady Lydia's infant was two years of age, he was one hundred and two.  The
child clearly had at least three or four years to her exalted name.
Simon stood watching, enchanted, and not only by the daughter of the house.  The dancing instructor, if that was what she was, looked amusingly gooseish, and yet still, quite human, feminine and delicious.
"Now," she said, stopping slowly, and turning to face her followers. "Remember what we learned last week?  How to go from a goose to a ballet step?  Fifth position everyone, and hands making a lovely circle over your heads."
That caused riotous mirth.  The children struggled to keep their balance with hands up, legs straight and feet together, each foot faced opposite the other.
"More geese," pleaded one poppet as she tipped over and fell to the floor.  "More, Miss, please."
"All right," their instructress said.  "One more round of geese.  Then some real steps, and leaps."
There was an excited stir.  The children obviously loved leaps.
"Now, necks out, bottoms out, feet apart," the instructress said. "Let's go!"  She marched them goose-like, in a circle.  That was, she did until she saw the gentleman standing in the doorway, staring at her.  Then she stopped abruptly.  The girl behind her crashed into her, as did the one behind her, and in a moment the line of mirthful children were sitting or rolling on the ballroom floor, collapsed with laughter.
Simon grinned too.  The instructress did not.  She glared at the intruders standing in the doorway.  She raised her chin and straightened herself as she helped the girls to their feet again.
"Why are you here, Simmons?" she asked the butler tartly.  "Our hour surely isn't up yet."
"No, Miss," the butler answered.  "But Lord Granger wished to see the children because they sounded so merry at play."
"So they did," she snapped.  "But we are not putting on an exhibition today.  Are you father to one of my pupils?" she asked Simon. 
"No," he began to say.
"Then brother, uncle or guardian?" she went on angrily.  "If not, please leave."
"I just wanted to see Lady Lydia's charming daughter," he said.  He bowed.  "Sorry to intrude."
She ducked her head in an answering bow, then dropped to her knees and was immediately covered in the flutter of small girls who were howling with laughter at the effort of getting up again.  She may have muttered something, but Simon couldn't hear it. 

I can so easily see Edith’s daughter-in-law doing just the same thing in California!  More about Edith’s writing on Monday.  And remember—a signed copy of His Dark and Dangerous Ways goes to someone who comments on either of Edith’s interviews by midnight Wednesday.

Mary Jo, and more importantly, Edith!

And the Wieners Are ...

Good morning from Sherrie!  Before we announce the winners of the caption contest, please take a moment to mark 6/6 and 6/9 on  your calendars.  Those are the dates of Edith's two-part interview hosted by Mary Jo, in conjunction with the release of Edith's His Dark and Dangerous Ways.

It's time to list the wieners of the caption contest.  The Wenches had a hard time deciding, because all the captions were so great.  But they finally made their choices, after much deliberation.  (Some of the Wenches included their own comments with their choices) Each winner gets an autographed book.  Thanks to everyone who participated!  This was so much fun that the Wenches are talking about doing it again at a future date. 

Winners, please send your mailing addresses to me, Sherrie, and I'll pass them on to the respective Wenches.  And now, here are the Wenches' choices:

Wench #1 - Loretta

Winner:  Cheryl C.  Caption:  This is my father's land, and you Lord Scoundrel are not welcome here.

Loretta's comment:  I had an awful time choosing a winner because they were all good and several captions in particular had me laughing helplessly, tears streaming down my face.  But at last I chose my winner.  Loretta, still laughing

Wench #2 - Susan/Sarah

Winner: Cheryl C.  Caption: I  have no wish to be a "lady." I can manage and work this estate as well as any man

Susan/Sarah's comment: I laughed out loud at Cheryl C's great caption for the photo of me at two years old after a busy day of blueberry picking in upstate New York.

Wench #3 - Jo

Winner:  Theo.  Caption:  *sigh* Isn't he just the dreamiest seven-year-old you've ever seen?

Jo's comment:  How could I resist such a romantic caption, and indeed, I do look very eager to please!  This session  had about 50 thumbnails -- whatever they called them back then -- and in some I was scowling or even crying.  I wonder what happened to them?

Ah, I found a scan of another.  I probably should have put this one in the contest, despite its poor condition.  I'm sure some of you would have had fun with those fingers!

Wench #4 - Susan/Miranda

Winner:  Sue.  Caption:   Despite her mother's admonition not to, Lady Jane insisted on hanging around with the village children.

Wench #5 - Pat

Winner: RfP.  Caption:  The acolyte mounted the stone dais to secure the captive's wrists to the ancient iron hooks.  It was a strangely familiar moment.  Despite her city clothes and new responsibilities, it wasn't that different from staking a goat on a new patch of grass.  Stifling a giggle, she nodded to the crowd to begin the chant.

Pat's Comment:  I couldn't resist this one since I'm toying with a way out story involving pre-Mayans and time travel.

Wench #6 - Mary Jo 

Winner:  Suzy Stutz.  Caption:  Well, darlin' I could tell it was you by your lovely smile ... and the way that you were looking the opposite direction from the photographer.

Wench #7 - Edith

Winner:  Cheryl C.  Caption:  Yes, yes, I know that I am the prettiest girl of the Season, but can we please just get on with this?

So there you have it.  Seven winners, seven great captions.  And don't forget Edith's interview 6/6 and 6/9.   By the way, if this post looks funky or the spacing is weird, it's because Typepad is being very strange today.  Case in point:  I cannot remove the mysteriously stray sentence, below.  Perhpaps Suzy Stutz will enjoy seeing her name in print not once, but twice! 

Winner:  Suzy Stutz.      

 

Pics, quips, and other delights

Hi, here's Jo. Now it's June, Charlie has his fan ready, waiting for some really warm weather!

Now wasn't that kiddy-pic contest fun? You're all very good at captions! Here's one Charlie likes.

For other caption fun, visit Quips Cards It's a Victoria BC company and some of the cards are hilarious. I see they've animated some of them for the web. So clever! Here's one as a taste.

Off you go. I'll wait a while for you to come back here. *G*

Oh, and why not have a go yourselves, just for fun this time.

Here's a picture. Anyone got a caption?

While I'm on a pictorial theme, how about some English touring? I realized the BBC has panoramas of many places. They have a lot of still pictures, too, but the panoramas are fun. There are, however, a large number of football stadiums!

So let's start with a stroll down Canterbury High Street.  How about lunch at the Weaver?

Canterbury is, of course, one of England's most ancient and important cathedral cities, so check out all these panoramas and have a wander on your own.Canterbury index.

I can never resist a castle, even if it is in ruins.
Pomeroy Castle

Here's one of Sidmouth in Devon. I used it as the base for the coastal town in Skylark (Hate that cover!)

Sidmouth  is a lovely old town which was very popular in the early 19th century because the headlands at either side of the bay created a sheltered winter climate. Many of those houses in the picture date back to then.

And lastly for the panoramas -- A cornfield in Yorkslhire. Yes, that really is corn, ie maize. In England, of course, "corn" means grains like wheat and barley. I had my characters talking about corn fields in some of my early books and got letters correcting me. So now I write around it.

What do you think about that sort of thing? Should authors avoid correct terms for the place and period that might create problems for some readers, or should readers be led into enlightenment, perhaps  even by footnotes? And how much leeway  should we get in the other direction? Can we any language that works for the modern American reader?

When writing about a foreign country, how much should we respect that language and culture? I have to say that as an Englishwoman I get irritated if authors don't seem to have tried at all, but have romped merrily into something rather like the Excalibur Hotel in Las Vegas! I know there's an element of fantasy in romance novels, but to me it's a matter of respect. Perhaps we're allowed to play games with our own culture and history, but not with other people's.What do you think?

How far can the writer setting books in foreign lands alter values to suit their home readership? In response to a very interesting blog by Laura vivanco at the wonderful Teach Me Tonight blog. (That's a link to a number of Laura's blogs. The one I'm referring to is the second "My Route From Here" but the others are great, too.

I wrote a comment. The first part is Laura, then my comment.

Laura: "I would like to do a bit of work on some romances which seemed to have a particularly explicit American flavour (e.g. representing the American dream through the characters and plot, or explicitly describing particular things/places as American)."

Me: "I'm not quite sure what you mean by this, Laura, but I'm aware of two story aspects that strike me as American (possibly also Canadian and other immigrant based countries) that often jar with historical realities of long established cultures such as European ones.

One is the appeal of the self-made man -- using man specifically. It doesn't seem to matter much with the heroines. In fact, an establishment/aristocratic heroine is often paired with the up-by-the-bootstraps hero, and stated or implied is that he is more worthy than all men of her own class or culture.

The other is the pull toward exploration and the new rather than the tending of the value to hand, which often brings restraints of responsibility and honor which are seen as unappealing and even weakening -- ie, the hero's a wimp for accepting the role he's been born to.

I very much enjoy self-made heroes and heroines, but their stories have to make some sense in their time and place. There have been good examples throughout history. However, it jars when the novel assumes that the self-made are inherently more noble or of more value. There are plenty of historical examples of self-made people who were truly awful, driven by ambition, greed and selfishness.

There are also plenty of examples of people born to privilege and power who were truly noble and benevolent, often at great cost to themselves."

So, what do you think about this? If, let's say, the Japanese had a thriving fiction market for books set in America, with American characters, but those characters followed Japanese social patterns and values, would it bother you? (They might, for all I know. I know something of Manga, which is odd in this respect, but not usually set in a semi-realistic foreign country.)

That question is frames for Americans. Please translate to fit your own culture.

Have fun, always!

Jo

And the Wiener is ...

Good morning from Sherrie, your Sunday announcer.  And now, on to important business.  Our "Guess the Wench" contest winner is . . .

. . . JANE GEORGE!!! Jane, you just won 7 books--one from each Wench--for having the most correct guesses (4).  Congratulations.  This was a very hard contest, as many of you have already stated.   And Jane, while you're taking  your bows, KAREN HAAS should also take a bow, because she was the only other person who came up with 4 correct guesses.  Alas for Karen, the tiebreaking draw went to Jane, but Karen deserves recognition for her amazing feat.  Jane, please send your mailing address to me.

For the rest of you, please don't feel bad.  The majority of you only got 1 or 2 correct guesses.  But take heart.  You're still in the running for the caption contest!  Each Wench will give one book to the person who, in her opinion, supplies the best caption to her picture.  In fact, the Wenches are poring over the captions as we speak and we'll be announcing those winners a little later.

I'm sure you're all dying to know who's who, so here you are.  Be prepared for some surprises!

Wench #1

Loretta

Wench #2

Susan/Sarah

Wench #3

Jo

Wench #4

Susan/Miranda (yes, the dark-haired changeling of the group)

Wench #5

Pat

Wench #6

Mary Jo (smallest child in the middle, front row)

Wench #7

Edith Layton

Now, wasn't that fun?  The Wenches thought so.  In fact, they exchanged many a comment about the wit and humor of the captions!  So stay tuned for the next round of book giveaways, this time for the best captions.