Word Wenches

Back to cats and kittens

Why Charlie in a Halloween costume? Because I failed to get a picture of Charlie with a cat. My son and daughter-in-law's cats try to eat Cabbage Patch Kids, so I'm not even sure it's wise.

I don't have any particular pictures for this blog, so they'll be random choices.

I've really enjoyed reading through everyone's lovely stories about cats and kittens. Someone said that they were surprised that I'd never had a cat, as I wrote about them well. Thanks for that. :) I have been around cats, of course, but there is an ability writers have -- to be able to believably construct things about which we don't have strong personal knowledge. I suspect all writers have it when they start out, but that it gets stronger the more we write.

I remember a piece on the radio years ago. It was a CBC show called Morningside, hosted by Peter Gzowski, who had been a journalist, and the author was Margaret Attwood. He complimented her on the realism of scenes set in a '60s newsroom and asked if she'd ever been a reporter. If not, how had she done it? She replied, "Imagination, Peter. Imagination!"

(The picture is of Torcross, Devon.

It'll be a lot busier now, but still, it's an amazing thing to come across in what seems to be the middle of nowhere.)

I'm not sure I completely agree with the word. I think of imagination as something I use to weave stories, and it can be literally out of nothing. If I sit here now and come up with a story about two non-human, non-humanoid characters from a fantasy world that bears little resemblance to earth, it's going to be a feat of almost pure imagination. It wouldn't be particularly difficult. Making it into a good story that earth-based readers would enjoy would be the trick, because I think we all enjoy fiction that has strong ties to realities we understand, otherwise it's too difficult a constructive task. Would you agree?

This ability to create a reality we don't really know is something else, because we use a whole lot of stuff. We go through life gathering stuff. No, not the knick-knacks and clothes we'll never wear again -- our experiences. Every moment of every day, new things stick. Most of them we don't even remember. But if we're a writer, they magically bubble up when needed.

I don't think I could create an impressively real '60s newsroom because I haven't got enough stuff about it. I don't even watch movies or TV programmes set in news rooms as it's not all that interesting to me. That's probably why I don't write stories likely to be in newsrooms! If I were likely to write such stories, I would have been interested in newsrooms all along. If you follow me.

(A very good cafe in Penzance. Had to go to a place called Steckfensters in Cornwall, didn't we?)

I have been interested in history all along. English history. Roughly 1100 to 1820. Really interested, really all along. As far back as I can remember. As a child I headed straight for the old and ran around gathering as much as I could, and I've been doing it ever since.I bet all historical writers did this, because we end up choosing to write stories set in worlds we can never actually live in. We have to use this ability to alchemically change a load of stuff into a believable reality for our readers.

We need a name for this ability. Anyone want to have a go at coming up with one?

Of course we research, too -- that is, go in search of information we know we need to know. We also deliberately expose ourselves to books, screens, and places where there's likely to be loads of the right stuff just waiting to glom onto us. Period houses, costume galleries, old inns, old streets, and every museum that comes within our radar.

(This picture is a fireplace in the Lady Lever Gallery in Port Sunlight. A wonderful place to stuff-gather. They also have on line podcasts of talks about some of their works, such as one about a Holbein portrait of Henry VIII. Check out the site.)

But at the end, we can't research every moment, every step. At least, I can't. In the end I have to write the story, and that means surrendering to the creative flow. Going with my characters, hanging on for dear life. I can't be constantly doing reality checks about shoes, cups, staircases, street surfaces etc etc, never mind the feel of things. Not just the smells, which can be researched, but which smells that character would notice in that place at that moment.

But you know, we mostly get it right. Authors will often mention this. Sometimes there's a detail we need to know and we go looking for it. Exhaustive searches fail to reveal it. So we make it up. We take our best guess and carry on. Then later we come across that detail, and we got it right! Magic?

In a sense, yes. But really it's the stuff. When we make that best guess, we're doing it based on everything we know by deliberate research and a lifetime of stuff. We might have a hole in our knowledge, but all around the hole is knowledge, and tho boundaries of a hole tells us a lot. Some would say that the universe is actually the space between the stuff. It comes to the same thing in the end.

I started out with cats and kittens, didn't I, and drifted far afield.

I've had a great time reading over the cat stories again and I thank you all for sharing them. The random pick was easy. That turned out to be the very first comment from Danielle, so one kitten is Georgie.

Choosing the other was very hard.

(This is a library chair, designed for sitting "backward", complete with book stand. They also had library chairs that niftily transformed into steps when needed!)

I was very taken by some names -- Catullus in particular, especially as the companion cat is Isabella, my heroine's name. Of course Sherlock Holmes and the Duke of Wellington just won't do. I loved the bossy cats, and the saucy cats, and the cats who think they're dogs. Not to mention the rabbit! And I love that Louis had Manx cats, and that Ink the guard cat could growl loudly enough to scare away burglars.

It was an impossible choice, but in the end I picked this, fairly short one, from Dorotha Holloway.
"Our 14 year old "Sable the Unstable" stable cat, lost her life in a auto accident May 5th. She gained her title as a 4 week old abandoned kitten. My daughter smuggled her in with our 4 datseys and she grew up thinking she was a hound. She loved rolling in mud, chasing horses, and seekning up on unsuspecting humans. We miss her very much, the only other member of the cat family I have ever known was a blue Manx that was know as Smoke to all who met him."

(Picture on right is of a British uniform. It's from the Canadian War Museum in Ottawa. Another excellent place to visit.)

Three simple things came together here for me. At 4 weeks, Sable was about the age of Tabby's kittens when she was lucky enough to find a great home. She died very recently. And Dorotha also had a Manx cat. I do also like the idea of a cat who chases horses, though what the horses made of it, I have no idea. :)

So, Danielle and Dorotha, the kittens are Georgie and Sable. Georgie after the king, I'm sure. I'm assuming for now that Sable is very black and sleek. Borrowing from some other posts, I think he or she is the non-Manx and very proud of its tail.

I'll send you both a copy of Dangerous Joy if you'd like one. E-mail [email protected]

Thanks, everyone.

Jo :)

Wench News

We should declare July an official Wench Month, as so many of the Wenches have books coming out in a few days.  Here's the list:

Loving a Lost Lord by Mary Jo Putney

Don't Tempt Me by Loretta Chase

Mystic Warrior by Patricia Rice

The French Mistress by Susan Holloway Scott

The Scandals of an Innocent by Nicola Cornick

Pat and Mary Jo have already blogged about their books, and Loretta and Susan will be interviewing each other next month regarding their July releases.  (Loretta - 7/13; Susan - 7/15)

Congratulations to Pat, Mary Jo, Andrea, and Loretta for garnering a number of accolades and starred reviews!  Pat's Mystic Warrior, Mary Jo's Loving a Lost Lord, and Loretta's Don't Tempt Me are Top Picks at Romantic Times magazine.  Loretta's Don't Tempt Me received a starred review from Booklist. Loving a Lost Lord got starred reviews at Publisher's Weekly and Booklist. Andrea's Seduced By A Spy is a finalist for the Daphne Du Maurier award for Best Historical Mystery/Suspense.

Don't forget to check out the newest set of bookmarks for Mystic Warrior and Loving a Lost Lord under "Additional Pages" in the right-hand sidebar.  And we've just added two more bookmarks for Nicola's June book, The Confessions of a Duchess and July book, The Scandals of an Innocent. Enjoy your bookmarks!

Mystic Warrior

Pat here, doing the obligatory promotion for MYSTIC WARRIOR (Signet Eclipse) on stands soon, I assume, since my copies arrived last week. The wenches have a long lovely list of new releases in July--so stock up for your beach reading!

I think most of our readers understand that Blatant Self-Promotion (BSP to those Who Know) is a topic with which most authors are uncomfortable. I was brought up in the days of children are seen and not heard, and nice girls don’t brag.  When I reached the age of Ladies don’t talk about themselves I was wearing mini-skirts and boots and declared I had no intention of being a lady. Unfortunately, I was brainwashed and indoctrinated far too young to really rebel. And I’m still uncomfortable with talking about myself and my books. Writing is very personal for me, so I present my baby with pride and fear.

So here’s the official promo:

As Europe is torn by revolution, the fate and survival of the Mystic Isle of Aelynn is dependent on an elusive treasure and a man who has been banished for his dangerously erratic psychic powers.
Lissandra Olympus seeks the help of renegade warrior Murdoch LeDroit in assuming leadership of the island, even though he believes his psychic abilities would cause more harm than good. But to protect Aelynn from chaos, they must work together to retrieve the Chalice of Plenty. Only then can Murdoch ever hope to rule Aelynn with Lissandra by his side, ever his co-ruler, his lover, his wife.

(excerpt at http://patriciarice.com/mysticwarriorex.htm)   

Sounds easy to write those short blurbs, doesn’t it? It’s not. I must have a dozen equally important threads in the book. How can I leave out the part about Murdoch killing Lissandra’s father? Or the blue ball of spirit flame?  Or Murdoch’s fiery disasters and Lissandra’s fascination with a world she’s never seen? And his fear that he’ll kill her if they make love? But authors are increasingly asked to reduce their 100,000 word novels to a few sentences. Good for the soul, maybe, but I want to pull hair.

And then we have to reduce even those few sentences to punchy one-liners we can quote on bookmarks and at autographings. Take a look at my wench bookmark. In creating that, we giggled and gave up and simply said:  He's Fire. She's Ice.  They have a steamy relationship.
Second place was: She’s good. He’s Bad. Of course they’re in love.

I mean, a single sentence begs the obvious, doesn’t it?

So let’s have fun with this silliness.  I’d love to hear what you have to say about BSP—and the flames may fly any way you wish. (Given Murdoch’s fiery tendencies, it’s only fitting, after all.)  I have a love/hate relationship going with self-promotion, so I’m open to all manner of diatribes, suggestions, or praises. 

And if you’d like to reduce some of your favorite (or not so favorite) books to single sentences, throw them in here.  It’s a pity it isn’t possible to hand out leaflets on upcoming wench books so readers could help come up with blurbs for them! 

Since I have boxes of MYSTIC WARRIOR filling my office, I’ll happily give a book away to any entrant drawn by our inestimable Sherrie from among the comments (just click on the link that says “comment” below). And if a really good blurb appears (good, bad, or ugly about any book at all), I’ll pick another winner.

Finally, a new book! Loving a Lost Lord

by Mary Jo

For those who have been pining for a straight historical romance from me—the time has come!   It’s good to be killing off heroes again.  <g>  Of course, anyone who has read many of my books probably realizes that main characters aren’t as dead as they might appear, and that’s true of Loving a Lost Lord, first book in my new Lost Lords series. 

In 2008, my only releases were reprints from hardcover and the like.  Changing publishers often means a gap in the publication schedule, plus my editor wanted to find exactly the right time to release LALL.  Hence—June 30th, 2009.  Though usually books start showing up in stores a few days earlier.

The series is set in the Regency, mainly because I love the period, but also because it’s such a fascinating point in time.  Romanticism, revolution, war, social change—the Regency is eternally balanced on the intersection between the ancien regime and modernity.  And men look very fine in full Regency fig. <G>

The second book of the series is finished and scheduled for May 2010.  (No title yet.)  I’ve got several other guys who are hero material, so I’d like to do an open-ended series.  Trilogies are just so skimpy.  <G> 

Over the last several years, I’ve received a ton of e-mails from people who wanted to see more of the characters created in The Marriage Spell.  I’d originally intended that to be the beginning of a new series, but then I changed publishers, and a new house wants a new series. 

But those characters were in my head, so when I came up with the Lost Lords idea—young men who bonded at the Westerfield Academy, a school for boy of “good birth and bad behavior,” several of the characters were definitely akin to those in The Marriage Spell.  The hero of LALL is the Duke of Ashton, a sort of non-magical cousin of Ashby in the earlier book.

I gave him pretty much the same story, too.  The book begins with Lady Agnes Westerfield, the unconventional duke’s daughter who founded the Westerfield Academy.  In the middle of a dark and stormy night, three young men come to her door to break the tragic news that Ashton, who had been their classmate in Lady Agnes’s first class, had been killed in the explosion of his steam yacht in Scotland.  Her former students had come to her as much for comfort as to share the news.

But when Lady Agnes learns that no body has been found, she returns to full schoolmistress mode and orders them to go searching for Ashton, and to by God bring him home, dead or alive! 

So off go Randall, Masterson, and Kirkland, figuring that will be pure luck if they find his drowned body, but at least they’re doing something, not feeling helpless.

Meanwhile, on the far northwest coast of Cumberland, lovely Mariah Clarke is rejoicing in finally having a home.  As a girl she’d lived with her part-Gypsy great grandmother while her father, a gamblin’ man survives on his charm, skill, and ability to get himself invited to house parties.  After Granny Rose’s death, Mariah traveled with her father.  They're close, but she isn't fond of their unsettled life.  After several years, he wins a pleasant estate in Cumberland, and she becomes Miss Clarke of Hartley Manor. 

With shocking abruptness, Mariah’s father is killed on a journey south and she is alone in the world.  Alone, and being pressed for marriage by the former owner of Hartley Manor.  Afraid that in a moment of weakness she might say yes, she performs a Gypsy ritual asking for her help—and then finds a half-drowned man rolling onto the shingle beach of Hartley Manor.  An exotically handsome man with no memory, mesmerizing green eyes—and a complete willingness to believe Mariah’s impulsive claim that she’s his wife….

Okay, one of the reasons I love historical romance is because one can write over the top plots, and this is one of them.  I was recently asked why I like amnesia plots (this is my third—I do about one a decade <G>), and the reason is simple.  Strip away a person’s memory and even more important, the expectations of everyone around, and what emerges?  I think this is a chance for a person to become more truly him or herself. And that’s what happens for Adam, a half-Hindu duke who spent many years learning how to appear absolutely conventional.  Now he’s himself—whoever that is. 

There are lots of adventures, of course.  One of the most fun aspects of the book was a scene with a diving bell as Adam’s friends work with a salvage operator to find the wreckage of Adam’s steam yachts.  Diving bells are very cool—Aristotle mentioned them, and it’s said that Alexander the Great descended in an early bell.  The things one learns in this business! 

In more blatant self-promotion, Loving a Lost Lord received starred reviews from Publishers Weekly, Library Journal, and is a Romantic Times Top Pick:

“The enchanting first Lost Lords novel confirms bestseller Putney as a major force in historical romance….Sensual romance heats up between the couple until Mariah reluctantly reveals the truth.  When she learns of Adam’s real history, Mariah must make a terrible choice.   Entrancing characters and a superb plot line catapult this tale into stand-alone status.”
 Publishers Weekly, starred review

“Compelling, flawless prose, gentle humor, exotic elements (courtesy of Adam’s half-Hindi heritage), and irresistible characters caught in a sweet, sensual dilemma will leave readers smiling, breathless, and anxiously awaiting the next adventure in Putney’s new “Lost Lords” series. Readers who loved Putney’s “Fallen Angels” series are in for a rare treat; fortunately, there are more delicacies to come! Putney (A Distant Magic) writes some of the most sensitive, exquisite historicals in the field.”
 Bette-Lee Fox, starred review, Library Journal

“TOP PICK! If you loved the Fallen Angels, you'll adore the Lost Lords: men who formed unbreakable bonds while at a school for boys of "good birth and bad behavior." Only the incomparable Putney could bring them to life and have readers yearning to be close to such dynamic heroes and the women who tame them.”
 Kathe Robin, Romantic Times, four and a half stars

But ultimately, what matters is if readers like the book.  If you pick up a copy, I hope you enjoy it.  If you want to sample the goods, there are two excerpts on my website, http://maryjoputney.com/  (First chapter and first meet.)

I’m giving away a signed copy of Loving a Lost Lord to someone who comments on this post between now and Thursday midnight.  Also, some time in the next week, a video for LALL should go up on my website, if you enjoy such things. 

So--after all the years and zillions of classic historical romances that have been published, do you still like them?  Or have you grown jaded?  What makes you love a historical romance?  I love hearing the opinions of intelligent readers like those who come to Word Wenches!

Mary Jo, always willing to kill off another hero <g>

Musing on Muses

Andrea here. Today, I’m taking a break from talking about research topics to muse on . . . well, The Muse and what kindles our inner fire.

So what sparked the idea? Well, my older brother and I were recently packing up all the personal memorabilia from my mother’s condo in readiness for a rental tenant moving in. As my Mom was an incredibly creative person—she recently passed away at the age of 85—it was quite a task.

Not only was she an accomplished painter and computer artist (having decided to master PhotoShop and her Mac at age 78) but a talented photographer as well . . . here she is—at age 84— getting ready to go up in her friend Morgan’s plane to do aerial photography. (She also had a pilot’s license but let Morgan do the flying.)

 She also turned her hand to a number of other crafts, including studying hand bookbinding with one of the head library restorers at Yale. Combining this skill with her expertise in photography, she made exquisitely detailed family scrapbooks. She had always taken lots of pictures of us growing up, and carefully collected a wealth of other memorabilia, like drawings and letters, to go along with the photos. Each year had its own book, and with her typical Swiss precision, she meticulously labeled events, pasted childish artwork in place, and preserved little treasures such as letters from first grade teachers, sporting ribbons, etc. So, needless to say, the process of boxing all the books and art proceeded VERY slowly as my brother and I stopped often to look through the record of our lives. 

As I sat perusing the pages, watching myself progress from infant to toddler to college undergrad and beyond, the experience brought some very interesting observations into focus. I tend to be reflective (I think most writers have a strong streak of introspection) but seeing a visual record of my ”self” and my interests really got me to thinking about how we find our passion in life.

Here are a few of the fascinating things I realized:

From a very early age I loved creating stories and art. Still do. Here I am as a four-year-old, hard at work at my desk. (These days I probably spend a few more hours glued in my chair, but you get the picture!) My earliest creations were Westerns—I’ve since moved on to Regency England, but at four, I had not yet read Jane Austen.

I tended to immerse myself in a character—I loved to dress up and imagine myself in a whole other world. Still do. (The imagining part, that is. These days I forgo the Davey Crockett and cowboy outfits as I write. Sorry, no ballgown or tiara either.)

Writing down my stories, sometimes with detailed illustrations, was something I really loved. Still do. And travel always sparked my imagination. Still does. For example, my parents took me to Gettysburg when I was nine, and that summer I wrote a Civil War short story based on the experience of seeing the battlefields, and reading all about the clash of armies.

In reading over letters from teachers, awards, etc, I saw there was constant reference to books, history and art. A quote from my fourth grade teacher reads, “Andrea is the class master of history.” In junior high school, I was voted “Best Writer.” In college I won an award for best printing project by an undergraduate. It was for a book of quotations from Thoreau, illustrated with original etchings. I set the type (old-fashioned lead letters) and printed each page by hand, then bound the book using marble paper I had made myself. (I was a graphic design major, so I got to study all sorts of fun things while my roommates slaved over pre-med courses.)  Anyway, those three subjects still captivate me.

And lastly, I saw that another childhood interest was archeology. (No wonder I adore the Amelia Peabody books by Elizabeth Peters.) I was enthralled by the past. Still am. And I was enchanted with marine biology (Go figure that one—I had absolutely no aptitude in science, but I loved the ocean. Still do. It must have been all those Jacques Cousteau documentaries. I still dream of going on a research boat to study great white sharks . . . even though I get terribly seasick.)

But getting back to what makes us who we are, the essence of what I learned was that my childhood passions are remarkably similar to my current ones. The things that captured my imagination as a five-year-old still shape my life today.

When I talked about this with some of my good friends, we discovered that each one of us was different. Some of us knew from the start what we wanted to be when we grew up. Others needed time to find their true calling—it wasn’t until adulthood they that realized what made them happy. And some of my friends are still searching for what makes their heart sing.

It was fascinating to hear how some discoveries are stumbled upon—a chance visit to a museum exhibit sparking a passion for collecting teapots—and some come from out of the blue. My avid gardener friend has no idea why she suddenly developed the urge to dig in the dirt. As a child she had absolutely no interest in plants and couldn’t tell a daffodil from a daisy. And my mother, who couldn’t have cared less about birds when I was a child, suddenly became fascinated by them, which sparked a whole new passion for painting them in watercolors. (Here is one of her paintings.)

I feel incredibly lucky to have a passion in life. Not to speak of being paid—albeit a pittance—to do it.

So, what are you passionate about? And how many of you knew from an early age what inspired you? How many of you came to it later in life?

(I will be selecting a winner to receive a copy of The Scarlet Spy from those who comment, so be sure to enter a post!)

 

Meet Eva Ibbotson

Anne here.  This interview with Eva Ibbotson is a little different from most of the guest interviews we do here on Word Wenches. Eva  is a Living Treasure and has just passed her 84th birthday. As you will see, however, Eva Ibbotson and her books, are ageless. The interview was conducted over the phone and transcribed by Eva's agent, Stephanie Thwaites. Thank you Stephanie and Eva for making this possible.

Eva Ibbotson has written some of my all-time favorite keeper books.  She and Georgette Heyer are my top two desert island authors and comfort reads. I watched with dismay as the copies of her adult books went out of print and became more and more hard to find, so it's been a huge delight for me to see them reissued.            

 These adult romances are superb — and not "teenage novels" at all (which is how the publishers are now marketing them— I presume because there are no sex scenes.) Her stories are wonderfully textured, heartwarming and, to quote another Word Wench, "they have a magical blend of wit, sweetness, and emotion."  I'm sure they'll delight a whole new generation of readers 

            

Eva, welcome to the Word Wenches. You've written children's stories and romances for adults. What made you decide to write romances?

 

Eva: I had so much pleasure from Georgette Heyer that I wanted to write books that would please others in the same way.  I think I was really writing the kind of book I wanted to read myself when I had the flu.

Anne:  You certainly succeeded. Many of your books are set in a space between contemporary (almost within living memory) and historical, mostly between the wars, and you said once that your favourite year was 1910, which was well before you were born. What is it about that time that appeals to you? 

 

Eva:  Many of my books originate in my mother’s memoirs and the stories she told me about her childhood in Vienna. She was born in 1902 and it is the years after that date until she left Austria in the early 30s that I became most familiar with and took as my own terrain.

 

Anne:  Your wonderful account of your personal connection with public libraries is still available to be read on-line, and it always draws a strong response when I've read it aloud at library talks. It begins: 

I was eight years old when I came to Britain as a refugee - and was not particularly grateful. Mostly this was because after years and years of being a sheep coming to the manger, or a grazing cow, I had at last landed the part of the Virgin Mary in the nativity play at my convent school in Vienna.

And then ... Hitler.

Tell us a little  about your life when you first came to live in England as a child. How did this life later come to feed your stories?

 

Eva: I came to England as an 8 year old girl; my parents had been separated for some years and I was a bit uncertain where I belonged. When we came to settle in London it was in the world of refugees and danger, and reading for me, as for so many children in those years, became a way of escape.  But the cosmopolitanism of my fellow refugees made a rich tapestry which I used again and again when I began to write. (In THE MORNING GIFT I have explored this further).

 

Anne:  There is a theory that people who are writers were often lonely children, or children who lived isolated lives or spent a lot of time on their own. Was that true for you

  

Eva: This was certainly true for me. I was an only child of parents very busy with their own separate careers and I remember very little family life as the words are understood. On the other hand the solitary journeys I made between my parents gave me lots of opportunities to get inside my own head.

 

Anne:  What stories in English did you first fall in love with? Did you always want to be a writer?

 

Eva: I loved all the well known children’s books in English, there seemed to be far more than in German and they were wonderful.  The Arthur Ransome books (SWALLOWS & AMAZONS) come to mind and everything by Frances Hodgson Burnett and L.M Montgomery. I loved school stories however silly!

Anne:  One of the things I enjoy discovering about other writers is how particular books came to demand to be written. I read in an interview here that it was seeing a house demolished that made  you think about ghosts being made homeless, and that led to the writing of your first children's book, "The Great Ghost Rescue."

Was there a particular spark of inspiration that germinated into Magic Flutes?

 

Eva: I visited Hochosterwitz on my last return visit to Austria well after the end of the war. It was completely over the top, and the basis of Pfafferstein. For the rest I have had a passion for Mozart’s music since I was six years old – my aunt was a teacher at the Vienna Conservatoire, and everybody brought up in Vienna gets dunked in Opera and the love story grew out of that. I thought the complete contrast with all that pomp would be Martha Hodge and Newcastle where I lived by then would be fun to do.

 

Anne: The reissued novels have different covers (and in some cases different titles) in the UK and US. I must say I prefer the US covers. Did you have any say in the covers and the retitling?

 

Eva: To be honest I don’t like any of the reissued covers whether English or American but I try not to make a fuss because marketing has become such and issue and evidently the covers work for teenagers. Change of title from MAGIC FLUTES to RELUCTANT HEIRESS was done without my knowledge and the Americans apologised very profusely – these things happen…. 

Anne:  The Magic Flutes (aka The Reluctant Heiress) won the prestigious Romantic Novel of the Year in 1983, when it was first published. For those who've never had the joy of reading Eva Ibbotson, here is a taste, as our hero , Guy Farne, comes face to face with two elderly members of the crumbling aristocracy of post-war middle Europe:

 

Augustine-Maria, Duchess of Breganzer, was in her eighties, her eagle’s beak of a nose and fierce grey eyes dominating the wrinkled, parchment face. The Duchess wore a black lace dress, to the hem of which there adhered a number of cobwebs and what appeared to be a piece of cheese. A cap of priceless and yellowing lace was set on her sparse hair and her rather dirty, arthritic hands rested on a magnificent ivory cane which had once belonged to Marie Antoinette.

                Her sister-in-law, Mathilde, Margravine of Attendorf and Untersweg, was a little younger and in spite of recent shortages, resolutely round-faced and plump. Unlike the Duchess, who had received them standing, the Margravine remained seated in order to embrace more efficiently the quivering, shivering form of a goggle-eyed and slightly malororous pug whose lower extremeties were wrapped in a gold-embroidered Medici cope.

 

Anne: Your "Mittel-European sensibility" and the world you portrayed in this book (and others) of the crumbling aristocracy,  the up-and-coming thrusting new money, the snobs, the opportunists and the heroes — it all has such an authentic feeling to it. How much (if any) of this is based on your own experience? (I would love it if you really knew a monkey gland prince.)

 

Eva: I have no direct personal experience of the crumbling aristocracy. My characters are drawn from reading and from my imagination. My father was a biologist and fashions like monkey gland injections were rife when he was young.

 

Anne:  As well as heroes to-die-for and and gutsy, heart-wrenching heroines, you've created some marvelous minor characters. Do you have readers writing to you begging for some of your minor characters to have their own stories? I confess, one I'd love to see is Ollie's story. And Sergei's. And I'd like a romance for Martha Hodge too.

 

Eva: The minor characters are incredibly important; indeed the word minor hardly fits. To be honest I don’t quite know where they come from but this is the case altogether with writing; it remains mysterious. I’ll think about a romance for Martha Hodge!

 

Anne:  You create wonderful antiheroes — I think my favorite is the fiancée of the hero in Countess Below Stairs, so smooth-skinned, beautiful and smugly ruthless. Yet you treat them with kindness in the end, often more than I think they deserve. 

 

Eva: Perhaps it’s because I thought of myself as plain and unattractive (in spite of a very happy marriage) that my anti-heroines are usually beautiful and voluptuous and smug. 

 

Anne : Guy Farne is a splendid hero. I loved the story of how he grew up, a small hero in need of dragons to slay and heroines to rescue. The relationship between him and his foster mother is beautiful. And when he sees our heroine.. .sigh. Kindness and honor and strength.

Your heroes are often trapped between honor and their hearts desire, and as they're the sort of men who would never compromise their honor, their future often seems doomed to polite misery. The resolutions to their dilemmas in both Countess Below Stairs  and Magic Flutes are particularly good fun, as those concerned are beautifully hoist with their own petard (she says trying not to give any of the story away.) Are you the sort of writer who plots stories out in advance or do they take you on a journey that unfolds as you write? Have you even painted yourself into a corner?

 

Eva: The kind of dichotomy between honour and passion is as old as the hills and I must say getting my heroes out of their dilemmas has sometimes not been easy. This is where the so called minor characters come in – like the Littlest Heidi in MAGIC FLUTES.  I only know the broad outline of a story when I begin; the way obstacles are produced and then cleared up comes as I go along. It can be an awful headache!

 

Anne:  Some of your children's stories, for instance "Journey to the River Sea" have been transformed into stage plays. I would love to see your adult novels turned into a BBC mini-series or three. Any chance of this?

 

Eva: I too would like to see my adult novels turned into plays or films – there’s an option out on THE MORNING GIFT so keep your fingers crossed.

 

Anne:  You said once in an interview that you thought of your books as a present for readers and, for me and countless others, they have indeed been the most wonderful gift. I hope they're in print for many more years. Thank you.

 

Eva: Thank you. I meant what I said about trying to think of my books as presents- which means that the reader wants to know what happens and not too much about my soul, or the sunset. I’m glad you’ve enjoyed the books. All the best, Eva. 

Anne again: Eva Ibbotson is not able to join us for a discussion on Word Wenches, however I have promised to forward all the messages and comments to her, via her agent, so whether you're an old fan or new fan, this is your chance to send her a message. What's your favourite of her characters or books? Or if you haven't read her yet (lucky you, what a treat in store) -- what qualities do you love in a hero or heroine? (A commenter will be chosen at random to receive a copy of one of Eva's newly reissued books) 

 

Two Hundred Years of Country House Visiting - Corsham Court

Hello! This is Nicola with a post for everyone who enjoys a virtual tour of a historic house! I have to admit that country house visiting is one of my favourite pastimes. Luckily I can claim it as research so I don't feel as though I am playing truant but instead am virtuously doing something work-related! One of the most famous country house visitors in literature is Elizabeth Bennet, of course, whose tour of Derbyshire with her aunt and uncle in Pride and Prejudice leads to an unexpected meeting with Mr Darcy at Pemberley. Whilst my own visits to historica houses have not been quite as momentous, I have seen some wonderful places and met some eccentric, endearing and very interesting owners over the years. My favourite was at castle Matrix in Ireland (shades of Monty Python), where we staggered in on a wet afternoon and the owner made us a pot of tea and a sandwich before giving us a personal tour of the castle and spinning a marvellous tale about her late husband, whom she claimed had been a modern day Knights Templar! 

So one never knows quite what to expect, which is part of the fun, and last month I went to a house that I have wanted to visit for a long time. It is called Corsham Court and it is near Bath. It houses a world famous collection of Old Master paintings and has stunningly beautiful gardens and pleasure grounds, as well as a troupe (is that the correct collective noun?) of peacocks who can be found wandering into the town, sitting beside you in the gardens or even perching on the roof!

The village of Corsham itself has a wonderfully historical atmosphere. It is recorded that King Ethelred the Unready had a summer palace there and that in 1244 Richard Earl of Cornwall, one of the sons of King John, built himself a Manor there. The estate was given to both Katherine of Aragon and Katherine Parr, but it is said that by the end of Henry VIII's reign the medieval manor house was in ruins. It is reasonable to speculate that the current house, which was built in 1582 might well have been on or near the site of the medieval manor and the earlier palace. Sir Paul Methuen, a wealthy diplomat, bought Corsham Court in 1745 and it has remained in the Methuen family ever since. It was Sir paul who accumulated the grand collection of Old Master paintings that still hang in the house today.

The first guidebook to Corsham Court was produced in 1806. At the time the general public were permitted to view all the staterooms including the State Bedroom. These were where most of the portraits were hung and the early guidebooks provide a detailed description of the collection, making it clear how proud the Methuen family were of displaying them. Two hundred and three years later I followed in the footsteps of those early visitors! One of the things that I particularly liked about Corsham Court was that much of the house has remained architecturally unaltered since the 1760s and so walking through the staterooms was like stepping back into the eighteenth century in all its opulence.

Many of the paintings are displayed in the picture gallery against a background of crimson silk damask. In the eighteenth century this was considered to be the optimum material for displaying paintings in gilt-wood frames. The chairs and sofas were covered in matching material, which meant that a huge order was put in to Morris and Young of Spitalfields. In 1765 they supplied seven hundred yards of damask at thirteen shillings and sixpence a yard. Four years later that provided a further four hundred and seventy eight and a half yards of material for the furniture. The price had gone up to fourteen shillings a yard. I loved the fact that when, over the years, the damask furniture inevitably became worn, pieces were cut from the material behind the paintings in order to patch them up!

Of the many magnificent portraits on display in the house, my favourite was this painting of Paul Cobb Methuen and his sister Christian by Sir Joshua Reynolds. Paul has such a vivid little face and a naughty twinkle in his eyes and I adored Christian's hat!

Such a picturesque house is bound to be in demand as a flm location so it was no surprise to me that Corsham has featured in the BBC adaptations of Tess of the D'Urbevilles and Wives and Daughters and also in the film Barry Lyndon.

The splendours of the house are matched by the gardens and pleasure grounds (I love the idea of pleasure grounds - it conjures up lazy days strolling under the plane trees or riding about the estate!) There is a wonderful view of the deer park and grounds from the Picture Gallery windows. This pastoral scene was the vision of Capability Brown who re-designed the park with a vew to integrating the landscape paintings indoors with the view outdoors. He created a "Great Walk" with panoramic views of the estate, and a romantic wilderness woodland complete with a little ornamental bridge of petrified stone. In the early years of the nineteenth century Humphrey Repton developed the Corsham vision further by creating a lake from the medieval stew ponds and planting specimen trees such as the American Oaks and Oriental Planes that look so magnificent today.

As always with historic houses it was the little nooks and crannies that intrigued me the most and my favourite bit of my visit was discovering the bathhouse. This was the work of Capability Brown and it was intended to provide an invigorating cold dip for the family, friends and visitors. The bath was sunk into the arcaded ground floor and a flight of steps led to a dressing room above. The style of the bathhouse was gothic, with arched windows, niches and pinnacles on the roof. It was absolutely charming but possibly not sufficiently so to temp me to shed my clothes, even in an English summer! Close by was another building that caught my fancy – the Sham Ruin. Built as a folly in the late eighteenth century and intended only for decoration, it did contain some of the stonework from the medieval house demolished in the sixteenth century.

 

Those of you who have read the “Regency Authors Go Wild” page on my website will know that one of my most pressing requirements for country house visiting is that there should be a tea shop close by so I was thrilled to discover that whilst there was not a teashop at Corsham Court itself, there was a lovely little pavement café in the village where we sat in the sunshine and enjoyed tea and cake.

I hope that you have enjoyed this “virtual tour” of Corsham Court! I wondered what it is about a trip that makes it special to you? It needn’t be to a historical place, although it could be – anywhere that you love or that is important to you. Do you have special places that you visit or things like my country house afternoon tea ritual that you particularly like?

Looking at covers again.

I have to confess that I forgot I was supposed to blog. (Spent the weekend at a Huna workshop -- Hawaian spirituality, though not, alas, in Hawaii, plus so many things coming together for our upcoming move to England.) So I've dug a post of mine from the very early days of Word Wenches. Covers are always worth revisiting.

Here's what I asked the last time. Do you pick up books because of covers, or avoid them because of covers? Do covers affect how you read a book?

I'm ashamed to admit I have to say yes to all three. I know covers often have little to do with the book. I know the author often has zero say. But some covers, especially where the man looks brutal -- or dead, but not in an interesting vampiric way -- make it really hard for me to pick the book off the shelf.

It's nothing to do with what others might think. It's simply that I don't want to meet that man inside the covers. I don't want to spend time with him. 

It's not just the men. I don't want to travel awhile with that angular-jawed woman who's wearing too much make-up for the past -- or the wrong sort.

This original cover of Dark Champion is one of my least favorite covers, perhaps especially so as its one of my favorite books. Fitzroger is a lean, hard-trained warrior, not a beefed-up gym boy, and Imogen is very young. Instead, there's the angular jaw, too much make-up look. They did try to show her magnificent hair, but it's enough to make a rug! Then there's her huge endowments -- or perhaps they're inflated because he's doing a one-arm push up on her ribs! Add pepto pink text, and it's all pretty revolting. The reissue was much better. You can see it through the link above.

If I get the wrong cover images in my head and they won't go away. Need I mention that I'm a very visual reader? I'm just very visual. Very literal about my visuals. At the workshop I had to keep asking for adjustments to visualizations because the ones offered didn't work for me.

So I'm actually okay with the covers that chop off the characters' heads, even though I think they're a bit weird, because it's much better than having an unfortunate image imposed.

Then there's the "look of the day" which for cover heroes at the moment seems to be stubble. What is it with stubble? I don't find that attractive. I like this cover of the new edition of Lord Wraybourne's Betrothed, which will be out later this year, but I wish David wasn't stubbly.

Do you think historical covers have changed much in the past three years? If so, how? I think there are fewer of the rampant clinches, or the lantern-jawed half naked men, but perhaps I've just blocked them out.

My covers haven't changed much. 2006 saw the publication of The Rogue's Return, with what I think is a lovely cover. The heroine -- what we can see of her -- looks young, and though we have the common strange lack of underwear, the costumes are pretty good. This year, of course, saw The Secret Wedding, which you've seen plenty of times.

Okay, am I the only one bothered by the number of 18th and 19th century heroines who appear to wear their gowns over nothing? And not mind being peeled out of their one layer when outside, possibly in view of many? I think underwear can be very sexy!

Below is what I've seen of the cover for a British edition of My Lady Notorious that will come out next year. It's lovely, isn't it? And there's probably a reason she's naked beneath that wrap. With my permission, they've dropped the "my" which they didn't feel worked as well as Lady Notorious. I don't think that's enough of a change to confuse anyone.

It's time it had a good cover. The first one was odd, and the reissue bland. You can see that here.

(I'm still working on the prizes for the kitten posts. Thanks for your patience.)

Best wishes,

Jo

Eva Ibbotson Here 6/19

This coming Friday we have a special treat for you:  an interview with the legendary Eva Ibbotson.  We're thrilled to have this opportunity to visit with such a revered author whose name has appeared on many "favorite writer" lists here at the Word Wenches.  Please join us Friday, June 19, when Anne will present the interview with Eva.

Idea Sorting

Pat Rice here, without a relevant blog in my head and dipping into the question box…

Cheri Oggy wins a free Patricia Rice book by asking how authors choose an idea and narrow them down to a particular genre.

Wish I knew the answer to that one!  I’d say experience plays a big part of it. And contracts! Keep in mind that publishing moves verrrrrry slowly.  After I turn in a book, it could be months before an editor has read it and asked for revisions and I’ve provided them and so forth.  During that time, I’ll be playing with ideas, knowing my historical editor will want more historicals. So that's how I choose at least one genre goal!

If I know I need to write an historical, then my mind will normally focus on elements that work well in that genre.  I’m not likely to put my favorite space aliens into Regency England.  Not likely, mind you.  That doesn’t mean I rule it out forever. I’m just familiar with the traditions of historical romance and experience tells me that some things work better than others.  But sometimes, my Muse refuses to let me choose, and I’m stuck with insane ideas that I have to make work within the parameters of the genre as I know it. Psychic heroines and fire-breathing superheroes aren’t precisely historical romance convention, but I needed to write the Magic and Mystic series, so I did.  (lest I forget I'm supposed to be doing book promotion instead of blathering, that's the hot cover of my July release--the third book of the MYSTIC trilogy!) And now I have a fantastic Regency historical idea, so I’m off and running in another direction. I never run out of history!

Outside of historical, I have all sorts of interests, and play with them regularly. I’m currently toying with two contemporary ideas, one of them I thought would be a traditional contemporary romance, except a dead body showed up in the first chapter. So I wrote the normal romance proposal, hoping I could get away with a sentimental story that just happens to have a mystery in the background.  And then I turned around and wrote the same proposal as a mystery, just to see what happened.  My agent loves the sentimental story, probably because romance sells better than mystery. So I guess we can say market demands also choose genre.

And now the idea of an urban fantasy is giving me nightmares, so I’m trying to learn the elements of that field. (For my recommended author list in UF, check my personal blog) I read a lot of it, and many of the books are extremely well written, in a defined manner that I’m not sure I can emulate —especially since I can’t write vampires and werewolves.  This is a genre that combines elements of mystery, fantasy, and horror, sometimes with a touch of romance, so I think I can really spread my wings and fly with it if I can get the basics right--and leave out the fangs and fur!

I just can’t say how I “chose” those ideas, and I’m not entirely certain I narrowed them down to a single genre.  But trying to figure out how I wean out the bad ideas (space aliens) and choose the more fitting one (marriage of convenience) combines a lot of factors, I think.  My experience, my preferences, my reading habits, my knowledge of the industry, my friends screaming at me not to jump off a cliff… 

Anyone else out there want to take a stab at this question? How do we rein in our wild imaginations and create something a majority of people will want to read?  And readers, do you really want books to fit certain expectations, or do you like being surprised by the unexpected, as long as you get the ending you want? (Space aliens in your jello, anyone?)

And before you leap in and say you want to know what to expect when you pick up a book--keep in mind that genres are continually changing. Subtly, perhaps, but changing. And they change because of innovation. Pick up any old historical--I'm re-reading Edith's THE DUKE'S WAGER right now, in which the villain has a larger part than the hero--you'll see how the genre has shifted over the years. Would you like to go back to the old ways?

Gentlemen's clubs

Anne here, musing today on the question of clubs. Gentlemen's clubs, for the most part, though not exclusively. It's one of the side alleys one gets lured down when writing a historical; your hero  is meeting his friends for dinner at his club, and before you know it you're wondering, yes, but which club? And you trawl through the various historical sources and the possibilities. Mostly what I do is write something like "He walked into the XXXX club and..." and later fill in the XXXX.

 

But inevitably, at some stage you have to return to that part of the manuscript and and decide which club. Will I use a real historical club, or shall I make one up to suit my purpose? 

There are plenty of precedents in literature for making it up. P.G. Wodehouse invented the Drones Club, where Bertie Wooster popped in to avoid Aunts and other undesirables, and the Junior Ganymede Club which was for gentlemen's gentlemen (valets). Dorothy Sayers invented the Egotists Club, and Arthur Conan Doyle created several fictitious clubs in his Sherlock Holmes' stories, most famously the Diogenes Club. There are many more.

And then there are the actual historical clubs, the three most famous in Regency times being Whites (established  in 1693), Brooks's (1764), and Boodles (1762). There was also Watiers, which was started by the Prince Regent and named for his chef, who ran it, and the Cocoa Tree Club, (whose chocolate house origin is obvious) and many others. 

 

White's  at 37-38 St. James St. began as a chocolate house owned by an Italian named Francesco Bianco  who Anglicized his name to Francis White. Whites became famous for its bow window, built in 1811, where Brummel and his cronies sat and ogled any pretty female who wandered by. I say 'females' because no proper young lady would dream of walking down St. James's St.

 

Whites' was so exclusive that it was claimed that when an heir to a great family was born, the child's name was put down for membership at Whites before his birth was even was registered. Its members have included Beau Brummel and Baron Alvanley, Horace Walpole Edward VII, Evelyn Waugh, David Niven and the current Prince of Wales.

Brooks's at 60 St. James St,  was founded in 1764 by 27 rich young men, four of them dukes. They were young, rich, outrageous and wild, and the club soon became known for wildness and high stakes gambling. It was also the most political of the clubs, and to this day the members of Brooks's are a force in the land.  

 

Brook's was originally kept by a man called Almack (yes, that Almack — some sources claim he was actually named William Macall but reversed the syllables of his unfashionably Scottish name to become Almack) but it was taken over by his former employee, Brooks, whose name it still bears, when Almack established the famous Assembly Rooms -- which you should note, also encouraged gambling, this time for both genders. [Above: The interior of a gaming room at Brooks's, Rowlandson and Pugin, 1808.]

 

Boodles, at 28 St. James St, was, by contrast, the club with a reputation for attracting country squires and the "fox hunting set". 

In practice many gentlemen would be members of a number of clubs, and it was not simply for gambling that men gathered there. A man's club was a home away from home, a place where he could escape his wife, his mistress, and his creditors, where he could while away the evening in convivial company, and get a good plain dinner and a comfortable bed for the night. 

Many of the early clubs began life as coffee and chocolate-drinking houses in the  17th century, over time becoming meeting places for people of similar political persuasion, and at various times were regarded as hotbed of political sedition; indeed the Cocoa Tree was once considered the headquarters of the Jacobite Party. 

What most clubs had in common was gambling, which was illegal outside of members-only establishments. Chocolate and coffee houses were open to anyone with the money to pay, and since young gentlemen with fat purses attracted men eager to relieve them off their fortunes— by fair means or foul— clubs, with  exclusive entry criteria, were seen as a solution. So while aristocratic parents might deplore their sons' gambling, they comforted themselves with the reflection that in establishments like 'gentlemen's clubs' they could be sure the play was fair (the gentlemanly code of honor ensured that,) so that if their sons were to be fleeced, it would be by a gentleman, at least.

It was more than that, of course. The private 'code of conduct' ensured that the club was a place where men could discuss business in private, and off the record.'Many a political and business deal has been brokered over a long dinner at the club, and the practice still continues today.

Exclusivity always brings a certain cachet to any establishment, and at a time when men with 'new money' were trying to push their way into the upper classes, the clubs had a quietly elegant and ruthless way of keeping newcomers out. Members had to be elected --  a man would be proposed for membership by one or more members, then each member would vote in a secret ballot by dropping a white ball or a black ball into a receptacle. All it took was one black ball for a man to be denied membership — the origin of the term "to be black-balled." The Garrick Club justified it thus: "it would be better that ten unobjectionable men should be excluded than one terrible bore should be admitted."

The response to this was the proliferation of clubs that developed during the Victorian era, but as always, the most exclusive clubs remained the most desirable, and the inner workings of the most exclusive clubs remains secret.

The notion of exclusive gentlemen's clubs spread across the Atlantic and also downunder. In my home city, we have The Melbourne Club, established in 1839. It's long been considered the headquarters of the conservative establishment and its influence reaches Australia wide. The US has its own similar clubs;  the  Knickerbocker Club, of New York, founded in 1871, the Pacific-Union Club in San Francisco, the California Club in Los Angeles, Union Club and the Somerset Club in Boston.

In the early years of the 20th century women's clubs were established and many still exist today. I visited one in Melbourne once, the Lyceum Club, which was established in Melbourne in 1912, though there are Lyceum clubs in many parts of the world.  Membership is restricted to women graduates and other women who have distinguished themselves in art, music, literature, philanthropy or public service. I had a wonderful dinner in the restaurant there with two members, and was charmed and impressed by the library, which has a whole section devoted to books written by its members — some of the great female writers of the past century. There was something wonderfully personal about it, and the visit made me understand the appeal of a club — it's much homier than a hotel. 

 But I've gone off track, as is usual with me, when I get caught up in research. I need a club for my "devil riders" (Rafe, Luke, Harry and Gabe) to meet in. I don't want it to be one of the main clubs -- I'm thinking of a place where young men would go, not to be fashionable, or to gamble excessively, nor to relive old soldier stories — I imagine they'd avoid that like the plague — but somewhere to stay when in London, a home away from home, a masculine retreat.

So I'm asking for help — any suggestions for a club for my guys to meet in?  Should it be real or fictional? If fictional I want a name and a thumbnail sketch of what it's like. No prizes, but if your name takes my fancy I'll use it in my book and credit you with it.

Otherwise, are you a member of any club? A tennis club, a book club — it doesn't matter. What is your club and why do you like being a member of it? 

Where to Begin?

 

"That's torn it!" said Lord Peter Wimsey. 

 

A great start for a great book, featuring a character dear to many of us -- and it's pretty obvious to many if not most of us that it's a Dorothy Sayers mystery, but which one? OK --The Nine Tailors.

 

So here I sit, nearing the end of a manuscript and thinking ahead not only to the closing chapters and closing line of the book (which I don't generally figure out ahead of time, I like to be surprised) ... and I'm also looking ahead to the next book (which I do think about, much more than the spontaneous seat-of-the-pants ending phase). Part of my brain has already started writing that one, and the next after that and so on. I'm thinking about coming up with a great, intriguing, punchy or at least -interesting- opening line for the next book.  

 

What makes an opening line really successful? That proverbial hook, of course - the elements that pull you into the story, catch your attention, tap your emotion or stir your curiosity ... the thing that makes you want to read on to the next sentence, next paragraph, next page and chapter....

 

Sometimes a great opening line will contain the whole of the book, when one looks back, and those are often most memorable. An opening line might tell you about character, situation, setting or author voice - do you want to read about this person, know more about the situation, visit that setting ... or is it just the power of the author voice, or the mystery of a story still untold, that pulls you in like a fish on a, well, hook?

 

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. -- 

Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen

 

For some books, the opening sentence, separated from its author or title, is still a total giveaway (for those of us who read historical fiction and classic and historical fiction anyway, which is most of us here at Word Wenches):

 

Peter Blood, bachelor of medicine and several other things besides, smoked a pipe and tended the geraniums boxed on the sill of his window above Water Lane in the town of Bridgewater.

-- Captain Blood, Rafael Sabatini

 

Others not so much, even if the books are as familiar as a favorite old sweatshirt:

 

It was a dark and stormy night. -- A Wrinkle in Time, Madeline L'Engle

    Did you remember that this wonderful book, which we've probably all read a zillion times, actually started that way? I didn't, until I pulled it off the shelf.

 

Here are a few opening lines. Take a crack at guessing them  -- I know you're going to google away, and you may find some there, but not all of them ... I will give away a signed book (Susan King or Sarah Gabriel) to someone chosen at random who gets them all correct. If no one gets them all right, I'll choose a name from those who get the most correct ... between now and Tuesday night at 10 p.m. ET, when I'll post the answers.

 

They're not that hard - I'm sure you've read most if not all of them, you may know author voice straight away, or recognize character or setting or situation ... you may have the books sitting on your shelves. I chose lines from books that I think the majority of us will be familiar with, and hopefully that's the case. There's a variety here: historical fiction, fiction classics, mystery and romance. Some are way too easy, a couple of them not so simple... 

 

1. It is a curious thing that at my age, fifty-five last birthday, I should find myself taking up a pen to try and write a history.

 

2. When the girl came rushing up the steps, I decided she was wearing far too many clothes. 

 

3. It was the egret, flying out of the lemon grove, that started it. 

 

4. It began in the old and golden days of England, in a time when all the hedgerows were green and the roads dusty, when hawthorn and wild roses bloomed, when big-bellied landlords brewed rich October ale at a penny a pint for rakish high-booted cavaliers with jingling spurs and long rapiers, when squires ate roast beef and belched and damned the Dutch over their claret until their faithful hounds slumbered on the rushes by the hearth, when summers were long and warm and drowsy, with honeysuckle and hollyhocks by cottage walls, when winter nights were clear and sharp with frost-rimmed moons shining in the silent snow, and Claude Duval and Swift Nick Nevison lurked in the bosky thickets, teeth gleaming beneath their masks as they hear the rumble of coaches bearing paunchy well-lined nabobs and bright-eyed ladies with powdered hair who would gladly tread a measure by the wayside with the gallant tobyman, and bestow a kiss to save their husbands' guineas, an England where good King Charles lounged amiably on his throne and scandalised Mr Pepys (or was it Mr Evelyn?) by climbing walls to ogle Pretty Nell; where gallants roisted and diced away their fathers' fortunes; where beaming yokels in spotless smocks made hay in the sunshine and ate bread and cheese and quaffed foaming tankards....  (this one goes on for another half page, so this is half the opening sentence!)

 

5. On a certain afternoon, in the late springtime, the bell upon Tunstall Moat House was heard ringing at an unaccustomed hour.

 

6. A gentleman was strolling down a side street in Paris, on his way back from the house of one Madame de Verchoureux.

7. The lad had the deep, burning eyes of a zealot.

8. I will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning early in the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took the key for the last time out of the door of my father's house.

9. I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.

So there you go, just a few novel beginnings -- what's your favorite opening line in a novel?

Good luck and have fun!  Answers on Tuesday evening - a random winner gets a signed book!

Susan Sarah, diving back into the WIP...

 

Welcome to The New Wench! Nicola Cornick

Anne here. As regular readers of this blog know, there have been shifts and changes in the Word Wench line-up over the last few months, as first Loretta, then Edith, then Susan Holloway Scott decided to concentrate on their books and become Wenches Emeritae, still part of the community, but only blogging occasionally, rather than every fortnight. 

Andrea Pickens has already joined us as a part timer (a demi-wench?) and we've had another Honorary Word Wench poised on the slip-rails for some time, shrouded in mystery and waiting to be launched as a regular Word Wench on June 5th. And I've been poised to crack a large bottle of champagne over her head, make a small speech and shove her into the water. ;)

 Edith's death has devastated us all, but one of our last joint decisions with her was to invite Nicola Cornick to become our newest wench, and we, as a group, feel very sure that Edith would want us to go ahead with Nicola's planned launch date, and do it joyfully and with celebrations. 

So please join us in welcoming Nicola Cornick. Nicola has been interviewed here before and has blogged as a guest. She's a talented, popular and prolific author and, living in England, she ensures that we're now even more global. Welcome Nicola! 

Thank you to Anne for such a moving, gracious (and damp?!) introduction and to all the Word Wenches for a very warm welcome indeed. It is a huge privilege to be invited to join the ranks of the Word Wenches and I am honoured to be here and will do my very best to uphold the traditions that Edith and all the other Wenches have established with such wit and charm.

I write Regency-set historicals and this month sees the launch of my new series, the Brides of Fortune. The heroine of the first book in the series, The Confessions of a Duchess, is Laura Cole, dowager duchess and former highwaywoman. Laura’s adventures began back in my previous book, Unmasked, when she was one of the leaders of the Glory Girls, a band of outlaws who worked to protect the poor and the weak against the injustices of society. Whilst I was writing Unmasked I was prompted to wonder what exactly is the appeal of the outlaw hero – or heroine – not just in fiction but why is it so deeply rooted in myth and legend? Are these characters criminals and as such can their exploits never be justified? Or do they represent some primal desire within us all for justice and equity?

There is a new film of the Robin Hood legend currently in the making, featuring Russell Crowe as Robin and with the new twist that the Sheriff of Nottingham is one of the good guys. At the same time the BBC drama of the same name is in its third series, much of its appeal deriving from a young and good looking cast and a rather knowing, deliberate use of anachronism! But why is this outlaw so popular? Robin and his Merry Men are legendary characters but they are the most sympathetic outlaws in history.

 

The earliest folk tales about Robin Hood date from the 13th century. Famous for stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, Robin has been variously depicted as a commoner or as a dispossessed nobleman, Robin of Loxley. The original tales of his activities place him in Yorkshire but by the 16^th century he had moved to Nottinghamshire and taken up residence with his Merry Men (and Maid Marian, a 16^th century love interest addition) in Sherwood Forest.  It is in the ballad-style narratives of the 15th and 16th Centuries that Robin’s story really takes shape. In these tales most of the present-day legend is already in place. We have Robin’s dedication to protecting the poor and needy, his brilliant skill as an archer and his dislike of corrupt authority.

 

There are some very appealing elements to the Robin Hood legend. The camaraderie, the idea of rebellion against a corrupt society, the romance and the timeless theme of good versus evil are all very attractive ideas. And in the current economic climate of recession, the Robin Hood legend also resonates with people. In a BBC interview Thomas Hahn, professor of English at Rochester University commented that the character’s popularity had long represented people’s frustrations with life in a capitalist society. Although the legend is medieval in origin his contention is that “it is a fantasy broad and deep enough to possess the imaginations of people in almost all times and places.”

 

It is interesting that the popularity of the Robin Hood legend blossomed in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, a time of capitalist enterprise. One outlaw theme that developed later, during the Regency era, was that of the pirate. Lord Byron had a great deal to do with promoting the cult of the pirate as hero. His poem The Corsair was published in the summer of 1814 and was immediately interpreted by an eager public as a smouldering, piratical self-portrait.  When taken in combination with a painting of Byron sporting an exotic headscarf and cutlass, the poem added yet another fantasy element that fed Byron’s celebrity status.

Ten thousand copies of The Corsair were sold on the day of publication. Byron had  based his story on tales of Barbary pirates who sailed the Mediterranean and Aegean kidnapping men and women to sell as slaves. He idealised his hero, Conrad, as “a man of loneliness and mystery.” In effect his poem was a wildly romantic fantasy on the brutal reality of pirating but it caught the public imagination. Like the Robin Hood legend, the cult of the pirate changed and grew through the following decades and centuries. There were five different ballets inspired by Byron’s poem between 1826 and 1856. The corsair cult spread to other arts and like the Robin Hood legend, was transformed again with the birth of the movie industry.

 

Arguably Robin Hood was the first footpad or highwayman. The idea of a nobleman fallen from grace, the protector of the poor and weak who is up against an oppressive regime is a very powerful one. There is a real gap between reality and fantasy here. In reality highway robbery was violent, dangerous and criminal but in the public imagination it is romanticised and glamorous. The highwayman is seen as dashing and likeable, a rogue with the qualities of courage and confidence, someone with not only strength of personality as well as skill with arms but arguably a superb horseman, a possessor of stamina and patience. Claude Duval, a Frenchman who emigrated to England in the 1660s did much to reinforce this view of the highwayman as gentleman, with the polished gallantry with which his carried out his robberies, his Gallic good looks and flirtatious tendencies!

 

Highway robbery flourished at a time when the hold of government and of law and order was incomplete or when the forces of government were unpopular or illegitimate. It also required some degree of economic prosperity in order for the highwayman to have appropriately wealthy victims. By the beginning of the nineteenth century, when the implementation of the law was becoming stronger and more organised, highway robbery started to decline and the highwayman’s exploits turned into legend.

 

So is the appeal of the outlaw hero a celebration of liberty?  Do they act as an example to all of us by being completely free and personify some of the aspirations that lie deep in many of  us, not to go out and commit a criminal act, but to be a devil-may-care individualist? What do you think? Does the outlaw hero or heroine appeal to you in fiction or do you think that outlaws are no more than criminals? Who is your favourite outlaw or your favourite film/book with an outlaw hero or heroine?

 

 I’ll be giving away a signed copy of The Confessions of a Duchess to a winner drawn at random from one of the people who leave a comment here. Thank you!

Sad News about a Great Lady: In memory of Edith Layton Felber

To our regret, the Word Wenches must announce the death this morning of Edith Layton after five years of very private struggles with cancer.  During those years, she continued to write her wonderful books, post blogs, and welcome two much adored grandsons into the world. 

If any of you met Edith in person, you know what a warm, incredibly funny person she was.  And if you’ve read her books—you know exactly the same thing.   

She was a born New Yorker, with all the wit and sassiness that implies.  She was proud of her Jewish heritage, and adored blond men with English accents.  She loved her three children and two grandchildren deeply, and they returned that love. 

Edith was one of the first writers I met at my very first conference, when I’d just sold my first Signet Regency, and she has been a friend and mentor ever since.  I could go on about her for a very long time, but this blog is a tribute to Edith, and there are many, many people who remember her with equal warmth.  Below are some of those tributes.  Please add your own—later we wish to collect these for her family.

From Wench Andrea Pickens:

I remember very vividly my first meeting with Edith. I had just sold my first Regency to Signet, and was attending my first RWA Conference. I was completely clueless about the publishing world, having by sheer blind luck managed to stumble through the process of  finding an agent and actually selling my manuscript. My editor, Hilary Ross, rolled her eyes at my dumb questions and said, "I think you need some advice." Looking around, she spotted Edith having a cup of coffee in the lounge. "Oh, there's Edith Layton. She's the perfect person to talk to."

I froze in my tracks. THE Edith Layton? The goddess whose books I adored? No way I would dare approach her!  I tried to dig in my heels but Hilary had me firmly by the elbow and marched me to the chair—or rather, the throne. Edith, as always, looked perfectly regal decked out in her jewel tone florals and gorgeous jewelry. I was probably tongue-tied, but it didn't matter. She smiled and with her pithy wit and warmth spent the next little while making me feel welcome to the sisterhood of writers. I'll never forget her incredible kindness—and her generosity in sharing her experience and advice with a total stranger and unfledged author.

I was lucky enough to become friends with her over the years, and as a person and author she enriched my life more than I can say. Oh, I will miss you, Edith!

From Wench Jo Beverley:

I'll always remember Edith smiling. She's always been a warm and vibrant member
of the romance writing community, especially the regency romance writing
community. She'll be missed for her liveliness and her wit both in her person
and her books.

From regular Wench guest Margaret Evans Porter:

It's hard losing someone I've known since before I was published--more than 20 years.  When I first met Edith in person, at an RWA conference, I was an over-excited fan-girl who had just sold her first Regency.  In the blink of I eye, it seemed, I became not only her fan, but her friend.  We often corresponded by letter, way back in the pre-email days, and then by email. 

There are so many memories, mostly associated with writers' conferences, but some were not.  Like the time I was at her house on Long Island and Abraham, her huge Bernese Mountain Dog jumped right into my lap, and we laughed and laughed.  Her home was full of love and laughter, with an eclectic mix of art and antiques.  I remember her study, her writing room, where she crafted all those memorable stories--the crammed bookshelves and books piled on the floor.  I adored Norbert, her delightful doctor husband, who accompanied her to many a conference (as did Abraham the dog, sometimes!) 

I fondly remember more than a few dinners together in various hotel restaurants--good food, entertaining--and often hilarious--conversations.  Eventually I met Susan and Adam and Mike, the kids of whom she was so proud.  She didn't have many years as a grandma, but how thrilled she was to be one.
 
She was incredibly talented and a consummate professional and so very brave.  I'm thankful for her body of work.  The phrase associated with Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire: "the face without a frown."  I've always thought of Edith that way, and told her so.  Because whenever I think of her, I see her smiling. 

From Robin Rue, a former agent of Edith’s:

She was a wonderful, classy, talented lady.  I loved working with her, and had so much respect for what a research wonk she was.  She will be missed. 

From Wench Susan Holloway Scott:

When I was first published as a romance writer, one of the greatest compliments a reviewer paid me was to say my writing reminded her of Edith Layton's. Of course Edith's writing was in class by itself, full of the same wit and charm that were hers as a person. While books fall in and out of print, that special spark will continue through her much-loved children and grandchildren. 
The world is a little less merry today without her in it...we miss you, Edith!

From Wench Susan King/Sarah Gabriel:

The first time I saw the legendary Edith Layton was at an RWA conference, when I was a newbie in awe of her and she didn't have a clue who I was. Someone said, "Look, here's Edith, let me introduce you--" I turned, and there she was riding alone down an escalator in bright sunlight -- what a grand entrance! Dressed to kill, red hair and lips, and the biggest, warmest, most wonderful smile. She grabbed me in a hug - didn't know the trembling newbie but was sweet to her - and she was deliciously friendly, then and each time we met and chatted over the years.

What a Grande Dame she was, and showed the rest of us how to be the best - the bestest, as she would have said - that we could be, as writers and people. I was delighted each time I saw her, thrilled when she joined Wenches, and deeply grateful when she read my Lady Macbeth, loved it, effused in e-mails as we discussed writing medievals, and gave me a kind and generous quote that I will always treasure. That quote is frameable art to me now.
 
What I'll also remember about Edith is how funny she was just by her bubbly nature, without ever trying. And I will remember her wonderful, whimsical way with words (though she didn't like a string of "W's" in speech for some reason, sorry, Edith!). I learned new words from her, like: bestest, luff, lurvings, lurve, mostest, and she was all of those -- the bestest, the most luffing, the mostest ever.
Thank you, Edith. We adore you.

From Wench Patricia Rice:

I remember meeting Edith first at a conference when she and Joan Wolf were sitting behind me, discussing horses.  I was a brand newbie, and they were two of my absolute favoritest authors. It was all I could do not to fall on my knees and worship, but I was too backward to do even that much. 

Later, after meeting Edith through our NAL editor's dinners, I learned she was the funniest, warmest woman I've ever met, par none.  Even through the devastation of the loss of her husband, she was reassuring others that she was fine, and she was making jokes in his memory. She and her wonderfully talented children showed me the real NYC nightlife and created evenings I'll never forget.

My life would not be the same if Edith hadn't been in it.  I'm not certain my life would have been the same even if I'd never met her, because it was wonderfully witty books like hers that enticed me into writing.  Beautiful amber and sunshine to you, Edith--I know you're up there, shining down on us all and laughing right now.

From Wench Anne Gracie:

I've only known Edith cyberly, on Regency loops and author loops great and small, but even on line, out of thousands of voices, hers always rang true and clear and original.  And funny. As for her books, I have a pile of keepers here in which she will live on forever.

My deepest sympathy to her family and her many close friends. And to her dog.
Vale that Layton Woman.

From Edith's long time editor, Hilary Ross:

From the beginning I liked Edith's books very much and enjoyed being her editor.   Then she needed a title for the last book in the Love trilogy.  I suggested the title Surrender to Love.  Edith wrote me that it sounded cheap, like something out of a movie magazine.  I wrote her back that it was a quote from Virgil. 

I then received an hysterically funny letter from Edith full of pseudo Latin along with agreement to use the quote as a title.  From that moment on I knew I had to have Edith as a personal friend.  It did work out that way and I will always
remember our close friendship and all the wonderful times we had together.  I will miss her tremendously.

From Wench Loretta Chase:

So there I was, a million years ago, trying to decide if it made sense to write romances.  My sister gave me some traditional Regencies to read.  One of them was The Duke’s Wager.  At the time, I still had a bit of snobbishness about romance.  But Edith cured me.  “She can write!  She can actually write!” thought I, astonished.  Lots of writers can tell a story, but she had a style, distinctive, and a true love of language.  Oh, those wonderful sentences! 

I met her at a New Jersey Romance Writers conference, where she was responsible for my first fangirl episode.  There she deservedly won an award for that very book.  The speech she gave was exactly like her writing, absolutely, totally Edith.  I was exchanging emails with her only a short time ago.  I can’t believe That Layton Woman, so full of life, is gone.

For more information about Edith, go to her website, http://edithlayton.com/ Or click on her name on the bottom of this blog, and that will bring up a page of her wonderfully witty blogs.  Here's are links to two delicious posts written by her daughter, Susie Felber, and titled Daughter of Romance 1 and Daughter of Romance 2.  They have lots of great pictures of Edith at work and at play. 

Plus, in the column on the right under "Additional Pages," you'll find a file for a downloadable commemorative Layton bookmark.

Tell us what Edith and her books meant to you, so we can smile through our tears. (To leave a comment, click on "comments" at the bottom of this post.)

Mary Jo and all the other Wenches

PS:  Several people have expressed regret that they've read the last Edith Layton book.  In fact, she finished one two months ago, so there is one more by the grande dame still to look forward to--MJP