Word Wenches

Return of the Rose

 by Mary Jo

I love when one of my books is reissued—it’s like having an old and dear friend return for a visit.  So welcome back, One Perfect Rose!  Step into my kitchen for some coffee and biscotti. 

A particularly nice aspect of historical novels is that the technology doesn’t change and mess up your plot.  With contemporaries, recent changes like the internet and cell phones can date a book really quickly.  With historicals, the biggest difference between what I’m writing now and what I wrote a dozen years ago is length. 

Granted, longer books allow more room for subplots and secondary characters, but for the romance at the heart of the story, what I’m writing now is exactly what I was writing a dozen years ago: strong women, tortured heroes, and healing love. 

Love is Better the Second Time Around

One Perfect Rose was the final book of the Fallen Angels series, though it stands alone just fine.  It was also my first book to reach the top fifteen of the New York Times List, which guarantees a special place in my heart. 

The hero of OPR, Stephen Kenyon, was originally intended as merely a wallpaper figure in the story of his brother, Lord Michael Kenyon.  Stephen represented Michael’s horrible family—but then the blasted man turned three dimensional and treacherousky interesting. 

Dukes only when necessary!

Like Jo, I seldom indulge in dukes, but every now and then I do a hero who needs to be nailed to the cross of the highest possible rank.  As Duke of Ashburton, Stephen Kenyon is just such a hero.  The quiet son of a difficult father, he has always taken the heavy responsibilities of his station seriously.  He navigated politics and managed the family estates and married the right woman, even though their relationship never moved much beyond polite duty. 

But in his mid-thirties, after his father and his wife have both died, Stephen finally sees a chance to have a more fulfilling life.  He can do what he wants and be what he wants.  Maybe even find another wife who is more loving than his first. 

So what’s the worst thing an author can do to a man who has just been given a real life?  She can take it away. <G>  When Stephen’s doctor gives him a life expectancy of months and not very many of them, it’s all too easy to believe the diagnosis.  The pain he’s suffering confirms that the end is near.  Which is when Stephen, the perfect gentleman, the dutiful duke, explodes into fury. 

Always the subtext

One Perfect Rose is what I fondly think of as my death and dying book, and while it has a happy ending (trust me, it really does!), what Stephen must confront are the issues everyone must face when the end is drawing near.  He experiences anger, acceptance, reconciliation.  How does he want to spend his last precious days?  What isn’t worth wasting time on?  Who does he love, who must he make peace with? 

A good part of the book is set in a traveling theater troop, and that setting came from a throwaway line toward the end of Michael's story, Shattered Rainbows.   Stephen tells Michael not to enact any Shakespearean tragedies.  Ah, ha!  Stephen likes the theater!.

So when he runs away from home to come to terms with imminent death, he falls in with a company of players run by the exuberant, good-natured Fitzgerald family.  He loves them all for their warmth and easy acceptance.  Most of all, he loves daughter Rosalind, a foundling they had taken into their home and hearts.  But how can he offer his perfect Rose love when he has so little time left?

Widowed Rosalind Jordan is the calm, still center of her volatile and creative family.  Her marriage had been a mistake, so she is happy to be the Fitzgerald stage manager, organizer, and versatile player of secondary roles.  Then Stephen Ashe appears, quiet, helpful, and particularly gifted at playing dukes on stage.  <G>  He appeals to her as no man ever has, but he is obviously a gentleman, while actresses are not ladies. 

They can have no future.  But can there be a present for however long they have?  Since this is a romance, I’m sure you can guess the answer.  <G> 

Here are a couple of the original reviews.  (Yes, when a publisher reissues a book, they ask for this sort of thing.):

“In her superb, inimitable style, Putney takes a pair of magnetic, beautifully matched protagonists, places them in a dark, impossible situation, and makes it work.”
 Library Journal, which chose OPR as one of the five top romances of the year.

“Intelligent, passionate characters flow through this powerful love story . . . Putney delivers another superior story, beautifully written with her penchant for eloquently portraying her heroines as unique individuals filled with life."
Rendezvous

In honor of the old and new releases, I’ll give away two copies of the book: the original and very cute mini-hardcover of the first release, and the new Kensington release with the gorgeous cover.  Winners will be chosen from among those who leave a comment between now and midnight Thursday.

If you've never read One Perfect Rose, here's an excerpt to sample.

If you missed this book before, or lost your copy, or wore your copy to pieces as some readers have--here's your chance to win a new one!

Mary Jo, showing off the luscious new Kensington cover.

 

Upstairs or Downstairs?

Hello, Nicola here! It's almost April, which means that we are whisking off the dust sheets, getting out the beeswax polish and opening up Ashdown Park, "my" National Trust historic house, for the season. The most difficult part for me is updating my guided tour to include the research I've done in the past year. If I add a few facts to my talk I have to take something out. I have 35 minutes to get my tour group around the house and (I hope!) impart a few fascinating details about the Craven family through the centuries, the art, the architecture and a ghost story or two!

Each year we change the exhibitions we have in the Information Centre, which is housed in the building that was once Ashdown's brewery and bakery. Last year our costume designer made a replica of a seventeenth century gentleman's country outfit, the type of clothes the first Lord Craven would have worn at Ashdown as opposed to what he wore at the court of Charles II. This year she is designing and making a lady's costume to match. We have a small display of items from the Second World War, when American and Canadian troops were stationed at Ashdown prior to D-Day. We also have some archaeological finds from the Iron Age fort of Alfred's Castle. As you can see, we try to cater to all those people who have a special interest in the house as well as those who choose to visit simply because it is a beautiful place.

The other exhibition we will be mounting this year is a display of photographs of Ashdown from the Victorian and Edwardian eras. The Victorian period was the only time that Ashdown was lived in on a permanent basis. Unlike his father, the rackety Regency Earl, William Craven Second Earl of the Second Creation was considered a typical Victorian gentleman. He was described by his contemporaries as "a fine horseman and very good to hounds, a first rate all round shot and an extraordinarily fine fly fisherman." These were the virtues admired in the Victorian landowner. As a result of some private correspondence between the Countess and her sister, we also know something a little more personal about William Craven - his wife considered him to be extremely good in bed and would boast of his sexual prowess! Not what we consider typical Victorian behaviour at all! William was also atypical in that he was a pioneer of Victorian photography and so we have an unusually detailed record of Ashdown from that time in photographs.

The family above stairs are fascinating in terms of how they spent their time (visiting friends, walking or riding about the estate and watching the earl take photographs!) but we receive many more enquiries from people who are tracing their family trees and have discovered that they are descended from the Ashdown House servants. During the Victorian era there were on average thirty five indoor and outdoor servants at Ashdown when the family were in residence. The house is unusual because it has no servants' quarters. As a hunting lodge it was built on a very small scale. So in the nineteenth century it was extended to provide extra accommodation for the family - a ballroom, smoking room, billiards room and garden room - and at the same time a new servants' block was built in what is now the courtyard. I think it must have been quite a squash!

There was a very strict hierarchy in the servants' hall and this is perfectly illustrated in the Ashdown census returns of the 1800s where the servants are listed according to their status with the governess first, then the butler and housekeeper, then the upper servants and the lower servants. The upper servants included the ladies maids, of which there were two at Ashdown in 1861, one for the Countess and one shared by her elder daughters. They earned between £12 and £15 per annum. The Earl and the male members of the family had several valets to wait on them. The valets earned £25 to £50 a year. Discrimination was alive and well! These were the only servants who formed close bonds with the family, although of course they could never be friends. In her letters the Countess speaks of calling on "little Mrs Brin" the retired housekeeper. The tone of her letters is rather condescending! In her time Mrs Brin had 3 housemaids working for her at Ashdown. One of these became pregnant by one of the footmen despite maids being forbidden from having "followers." They married when the girl was about 5 months pregnant and the Cravens gave the couple a local cottage in which to live. Neither was allowed to continue working at Ashdown, however.

At Ashdown the butler, William Churchill, was assisted by 3 footmen. The upper servants, who also included the cook, the head gardener and the coachman actually had their own servant – the Steward’s Room Man - to wait on them at meals. This shows how incredibly status conscious the servants’ hall
was. At Ashdown this poor lad was a19 year old called William Dyke. He was almost at the bottom of the pile, down there with the kitchen maids and the scullery maids. But there was someone still lower on the social ladder – the odd job man, Edward Cook, who waited on the lower servants.

Throughout the Victorian period the Cravens had French cooks. Again this was a sign of status as French cuisine was very highly rated. The kitchens were located in one of Ashdown's lodge houses and were connected to the main house by a corridor. The family wanted the kitchens kept as far away from the dining room as possible because they didn’t want to have to smell the food cooking. So although it was inconvenient for the servants to have a kitchen in the lodge it suited the family well.

Another process that was kept well away from the family - in Ashdown's case a quarter of a mile away - was the laundry. Before the automated laundry process was invented, laundry created a great deal of steam and smell, which was why the laundry was usually away from the rest of the servants’ quarters. Quite often it was near the stables, as it is at Ashdown, and as the historian Mark Girouard remarked, “the laundry was the Achilles heel of the Victorian country house as far as keeping the male and female servants apart was concerned.”

Ashdown, being a country sporting estate, had a big stables with coachman, grooms and stable helpers and also six gamekeepers. The house also had extensive kitchen gardens where they grew everything from mushrooms in dark sheds to exotic fruit such as melons and pineapples, against heated walls that still stand today. Much of the fruit, vegetables and herbs eaten by the family and guests came from their own gardens during this period.

By the Edwardian period Ashdown's heyday as a country estate was over. The Edwardian Earl of Craven, who had married the American heiress Miss Cornelia Martin in 1893, preferred the opulent splendour of his estates at Coombe Abbey (renovated with American money) to his Berkshire properties. In fact he was so rarely in Berkshire that he was driving past Ashdown one day and remarked "I believe I have a house somewhere around here." It was Cornelia Craven who gave Ashdown to the National Trust in  1956. This year, courtesy of some wonderful photographs from Mr Rick Hutto, we are hoping to have a little display dedicated to Cornelia, the "dollar princess" who saved the Craven family fortunes. 

I hope you have enjoyed this whistle-stop tour through a bit of Ashdown history and a few of our special photographs. If you had been around in the Victorian era would you have preferred to be upstairs or downstairs?

A duke of my own.

A Duke Of My Own would make a pretty good title, wouldn't it?

I have been known to complain about the excessive number of dukes in romantic fiction, but here I am with a duke of my own, His Grace the Duke of Ithorne. He's not my first duke. That was in a short story, A Mummers' Play. My only other full length duke (another odd image there!) was the Duke of St. Raven in the book. St Raven. In that case, Tris Tregallows had come late to the title. In the case of Ithorne, however, he was born a duke, as his father died before his birth.Quite a burden for a tiny mite. To add to it, his mother is soon forced to leave him. She falls in love with a French lord but is not allowed to take so important a child out of the country.

Character backstory.

That's the back story, and as with most of my characters' histories, it just unfurled for me without my planning. It means that he's every inch the duke, but also makes his occasional escape into the persona of Captain Rose of the Black Swan understandable, as is his close friendship with his cousin, Robin, Earl of Huntersdown (A Lady's Secret), and his foster-brother, Christian Hill (The Secret Wedding.)Here's Thorn's arrival in A Lady's Secret. Robin has been injured in a sword fight and sent for help.

Robin woke to a deep voice drawling, "What have you been up to now, you madman?"

"Thorn?" he asked, opening his eyes, but only slowly recollecting events. He moved, winced as pain shot up his leg, but then grinned. "Thank heaven and hell. Help has arrived."

"It certainly has," the Duke of Ithorne said, sinking onto a chair that an awestruck Mrs. Andrew had just pushed up to the bed. He turned and thanked her, which made her blush. Presumably he was here as plain Captain Rose, but still they swooned.

He wasn't exactly a handsome man, but somehow women never noticed. Like many young men he wore his own hair, but it was neatly tied back and his buckskin breeches, plain brown coat, and neck cloth were impeccably neat. It was most annoying...

Real Dukes.

There were a surprising number of young dukes in 1764, most of them married or soon to be married, so the older, single duke of romantic fiction isn't exactly realistic, it would seem.

Devonshire was 44, but would soon die and his son, aged 16 would inherit. I put him in here because he's the one who would marry Georgiana Spencer of the movie Duchess.

Beaufort was 20, and at 22 would marry. That's his duchess, about 20 years later.

Grafton was 29 and 8 years married to Anne Liddell, but soon to divorce her. That's Grafton on the left.

Manchester was 27. In 1762 he'd become duke and married Elizabeth Dashwood.

Marlborough was 26 and at 24 had married Lady Caroline Russell.

Northumberland was 22 and around the time of The Secret Duke married Anne Stuart, whom he divorced in 1779.

Portland was 26 and in 2 years would marry Lady Dorothy Cavendish.

St. Albans is 24 and one year married to Lady Catherine Ponsonby.

I thought of creating a dukes' club for the book, because they would have quite a bit in common, but it didn't fit my storyline.

A real duke in my books.

The last young duke is Bridgwater, shown right, pointing to his achievements. He was 28 in 1764, and is a character in my novel Tempting Fortune, because Lord Bryght Malloren has invested in his canal building plans. Bridgwater's canals were a major force in the revolution of transportation in the 18th century and the progress of the Industrial Revolution. So dukes were not necessarily idle wastrels or above practical matters. In fact, in the 18th century, the time of the Enlightenment, most of the aristocracy were involved in the arts and sciences, including industry, astronomy, global exploration, and agricultural improvements.

Bridgewater makes an appearance in The Secret Duke as the king's worrying behaviour begins to be spoken of. In the end, of course, the poor man -- George III, not Bridgwater, will go mad, probably from porphyria.

It seems many readers can't get enough of dukes, but my question is, how do you feel about young dukes as heroes? Does that undercut some idea of power? Thorn's in his twenties, but there's nothing wrong with men in their twenties. They could be said to be in their prime.

 What do you think?

If you haven't read the excerpt from The Secret Duke, it's here.

And this is a painting from 1764 which captures something of the thoughtful, reserved duke. Or perhaps he's simply pondering the mess he's in now Bella Barstowe is back in his life!

Cheers,

Jo

Spies in Regency England

Pat here:

Before we get started today, go fetch your rotten tomatoes so you’ll be prepared when I start griping about spies in Regency historicals.  Those of you in Florida ought to have lots of mushy fruit available. The rest of us may have to go for squishy bananas and old Christmas oranges because tomatoes are too expensive to waste.             

Okay, if you have your ammunition ready—England in 1792 was so ill-informed that they didn’t even realize Europe was on the brink of war. They were celebrating peace. The notion of monitoring foreign governments was reserved for the monarch and perhaps a secretary of state or two. Communication was limited to diplomatic pouches, and the public—when they could read—relied on news sheets more interested in business than France. The paranoia necessary to develop intelligence networks simply did not exist.  That changed when France began beheading aristocrats some years later, but England still had very little interest in foreign affairs as long as they didn’t interfere with shipping, and people counted on the admirable Admiral Nelson to take care of that little matter.

  Even after Nelson’s ships set out to guard against French rebels, the only naval intelligence available to the navy was from their officers after a night on the town. Since Emma Hamilton acted as the queen's correspondent on affairs in Naples, it's not a wild guess to assume that she was not only Nelson’s mistress, but she was as close as it came to a spy. Whispered pillow talk hardly qualifies as secret agent derring-do, however—and is probably the reason most English people thought spying was déclassé. Breaking trust by revealing state secrets was in dreadfully poor taste, suited only to wanton women.

Meanwhile, the French already had semaphore towers in 1794 to allow for almost instantaneous land transmission of messages so they knew what their enemies were doing at all times. The English managed to install a few by 1806 which considerably increased the ability of the Navy to communicate with the Admiralty as long as it wasn’t nighttime or foggy. And even then, there was no centralized office beyond the Admiralty to which the message could be forwarded. England didn’t have an intelligence office. It barely had a foreign office, and its duties were nebulous. The king (and during the Regency, it was more likely the queen or the prince) and the prime minister and a few secretary of states were the only authorities available to act on military intelligence. You can imagine how often they got involved, after the message had been riding across land and water and kicking around in offices for a few months. 

So don’t blame me completely when I say I don’t read too many historicals that carry a back blurb about a famous English spy. Our own Cara, as Andrea Pickens, has written some great spy fiction—but that’s what it is, fiction. There are tons of well-known romances involving spies. I think Amazon even carries a list. I fully realize we’re writing gripping stories, and that a race across battle-torn Europe makes a better story than a military officer picking up a useful bit of gossip in the local tavern.  But I simply cannot suspend disbelief and buy into a subplot of spies unless the story offers me a riveting romance and an intriguing personal conflict. I have to trust the author before I’ll pick up a spy book.

That said, she says with a heavy sigh, I have somehow managed to incorporate a French baddie into the current WIP.  A very small role, mind you. I resisted. I fought it hard. Only— I had a French code wheel, which I’d painstakingly researched. And I didn’t want to take my characters to France. And if you’ve got a code, someone needs to break it. And someone needs to try to stop them. 
So one thing led to another, and there I am, a spy at the end of my book. The shame of it. The things we’ll do for our romantic couples…

So how do you feel about historical fiction that takes liberty with reality? (Okay, so I’m the one who invented an invisible island in the English Channel, but I never pretended it was real history!)  Should we start calling our genre by another name? Instead of historical romance, maybe we’re writing “Romance written in a historical time period without regard to fact”?  Does anyone still care about history? With vampires and zombies romping through Austen these days, have we given up all pretense of seeking reality? And if so, why?

Ready, aim, fire tomatoes!

A room with a view...

 Hi, Anne here. I'm just back from a week-long writing retreat, the annual one I take with a small group of excellent writing friends. 

It's always an intensive writing week, as we're all published writers determined to get the most we can out of the week, professionally and personally, so we all got a lot of writing done. We also brainstormed our various plots, ran workshops on writing topics and shared approaches and strategies for improving our productivity and our writing lives. At night we relaxed, ate fabulous food, drank beautiful wines and talked our heads off.

This time we stayed in a hotel on Coogee beach in Sydney, and this was the view from my balcony. We chose Sydney, even though none of us lives in Sydney,  because it's only one plane flight for any of us, even the New Zealander in our midst.  

We're just a small group but we live thousands of kilometers apart — the original group was formed to help overcome the barriers of isolation — so for many of us, it's the only time outside of a national conference we get to talk to our peers about the passion we share — writing. So it's very stimulating as well as productive.

As a consequence, our brains were buzzing and it was hard to sleep in, so some of us started writing at dawn, getting pages done before we all met for breakfast. Our rooms overlooked the sea, so watching the sun lift slowly out of the sea was a beautiful start to the day. Again, this is taken from my balcony.

 

Some people were more energetic and swam before breakfast in the 20 meter (approx 60 ft) ocean pool, built exclusively for the use of women. It's been in continuous use as a women-only bathing spot since before 1876. The pool itself was built in 1886.  Built into the cliff, with a rock floor, its occupants can swim in complete privacy, virtually invisible from the cliff path above — I took this photo from well down inside the women's area. You can see my friends in the bathing hats, waving. 

 

The bathing hats were a fun gift to us all from one of the retreat-writers and as you can see, we put them to good use.

 The hotel had two kinds of occupants that also stimulated us. The first was of the genus footballer — when we arrived the South African rugby team was in occupation, and they were replaced by a succession of teams full of large, strong young men — all grist to the romance writer's mill. One time I was in the elevator with three women attending a conference, and we were chatting when a big gorgeous guy dressed in nothing but a pair of swimming trunks got in. The conversation stopped in mid word as four women's brains turned to mush and I swear nobody remembered to breathe until he got out again at the pool level. 

The other kind of occupant of the hotel hit a very different mush factor. In a program new to me, new mothers from the local maternity hospital spend their first few days after giving birth in the hotel, instead of staying in hospital. They're given  lovely balcony rooms overlooking the sea, and all their needs are met, including food. A midwife visits them each day to check their progress. They're not sick, of course — they've just had a baby. Husbands and children are also allowed to stay with them, for an extra cost, I assume.  Most of the young mothers seemed to be on the same floor, so I guess they could visit each other if they were so inclined.  

It was a beautiful sight to see young mothers sitting on the balcony, peacefully feeding their tiny baby as they gazed out to sea. I met a young father bursting with pride as he came from work to visit his wife and brand new new son. He told us in the elevator-- the news was just bursting from him, and his joy and pride were palpable.  He had a most receptive audience, too, in a bunch of romance writers, but there was another guy in the elevator who was a biologist and he was just as touched as we were.

It's a brilliantly innovative way to reduce hospital bills, and at the same time it gives new mothers a lovely rest and a bit of a treat before they return home.  And I never once heard a baby crying — I don't know whether it was because of good building design or an outcome of having a happy, relaxed mother. I'd never heard of this kind of program before, but apparently they do it in several cities in Australia.

I feel blessed to be part of such a retreat — it really is a wonderful experience for any writer. Now I'm home and it's head down again, working hard on my next book, feeling refreshed and stimulated but still wishing for my room with a view...

So what about you? Have you ever been on a retreat of some sort? Shared a hotel with footballers? Swum in a special place? And what do you think of this program for young mothers? 

Michelle Willingham - Honorary Word Wench!

Michelle, it give me very great pleasure on behalf of the Word Wenches to appoint you an Honorary Word Wench and thank you for the fascinating blog post on the great days of the luxury liners. It is a Wench tradition that we offer our guests a virtual present as a thank you for visiting us so we would like you to accept this stateroom on your very own yacht so that the next time you take to the seas it will be in style!

Congratulations are also due to Janice, who wins the draw for a signed copy of Michelle's book, The Accidental Princess. Congratulations, Janice!

Back To School

Cara/Andrea here,

  As some of you know, this spring I went back to school. Back to university, to be more specific. I’m co-teaching an undergraduate seminar on historical romance at Yale with fellow author Lauren Willig, and the experience has been amazing. I’ve had such a wonderful time engaging in discussions with our students, and I hope I have been able to impart some of my knowledge—such as it is—about the Regency genre. (But more on that in a future blog . . . to the right is where I teach. Our seminar room is the two twin leaded glass windows to the left of the archway gate.)

In addition to the satisfaction of teaching, I’ve also really been enjoying just being around an academic environment again. The creative energy just thrums through the air. Like music? Check the campus bulletin boards and you see there are recitals  in chamber music, jam sessions of jazz, rock ‘n roll, hip hop . . . you name it. Like art? There  constantly rotating student exhibitions in painting, sculpture, photography, computer animation and graphic design. And the libraries routinely showcase some of the university’s more esoteric collections, including Babylonian seals, playing cards, musical instruments and fossils. As for theater, it’s flourishing—seems there is some sort of play going on most every night.

Everywhere you turn, there’s something HAPPENING. People are experimenting, testing, shaping, honing their ideas. There’s an exuberance, an excitement about the process of learning, and no fear of failure. Imagination is at play! It’s incredibly inspiring. I find myself walking with a real bounce in my step.

This week, there is a special conference sponsored by the Medieval Academy of America. Here are some of the topic listed: Medieval Elementary Education: Schools, Schoolrooms, Schoolbooks; Outside In, Inside Out: Medieval Theologies of the Self; Literature and the Courts; The Middle Ages in Film . . .There’s also an interactive exhibit on Lyme disease at the natural history museum . . . a woman’s lacrosse game  out at the athletic fields . . . a lecture on Japanese choreography . . . an exhibit of letterpress posters.

Some afternoons before class, I wander through the main library, gleefully accessing the stacks and online data bases that my precious university ID gives me access to. I’m currently working on a historical mystery manuscript and needed some information on the stock exchange in 1813 London. Finding it here was way more fun than google. I discovered hard-to-get books were right at my fingertips. (I had to laugh when I checked one out and saw that I had been given it for a year!) When I ran into a snag, a research librarian answered my e-mail query within 24 hours. (To the left is one of my favorite stone carvings in the main library. It shows a sleeping student overwhelmed by a pile of books.)

Insert an audible sigh of bliss here.

I appreciated my college days, but I would probably appreciate them even more now. (there is that old adage that youth is wasted on the young.)  I would love to go back to school for a semester and really immerse myself in learning a whole host of new subjects. I know little about Tudor England, and would love to explore that world.

I know that I’m probably not going to become a full-time student any time soon—life gets more complicated as time goes by. But if you are like me and love learning, here’s something that you might find of interest. There is an online site called Open Yale. If you go there, you will find 25 classes from a wide variety of disciplines available to download as podcasts video lectures or text files. Each selection is the exact set of lectures heard by an undergraduate enrolled in the class, (complete with reading list, etc.) And they feature some of the top professors at the university. Best of all, it’s free and open to “all who wish to learn.” (I’m proud of my alma mater—they feel it’s a Good Thing to share knowledge.) I’ve downloaded “Introduction to Ancient Greek History.” Professor Donald Kagan (shown above) is a legend at Yale, but somehow I missed him first time around. Now I get a second chance. I’ve also just put a course on Milton’s poetry on my i-pod, and the courses on ‘European Civilization, 1648-1945’ and ‘Introduction to the Old Testament’ look really interesting.

So how about you? Would you like to go back to college? What class would you love to take?

New Wenchly Covers!

Have the Wenches got a Saint Paddy's Day surprise for you! Keep reading ... and get out your sunglasses - you're about to be dazzled!!

First and foremost - Happy Saint Patrick's Day to one and all! It's a fine day for the wearin' o' the green for good luck! If you have Irish blood in you, the luck and the green will bring good fortune your way today (and if you don't have Irish blood, the green will bring luck to you too, for the Irish are not only a lucky but a generous sort!). So enjoy the day with some green clothing, Celtic jewelry, Celtic music, green beer,  Irish stew, colcannon, shamrock cookies and what-all else reminds you of Ireland. Being more than half Irish (and loving green), I have to say that March 17 is a particular favorite holiday of mine.

The Wenches have found a great way to celebrate today -- the generous cover gods have smiled upon us lately at Word Wenches, and some of us have received beautiful new covers for upcoming books! We'd like to share the good luck and the beauteousness with you -- here we go ... we hope you enjoy this sneak preview!

Patricia Rice, The Wicked Wyckerly, Signet/Eclipse, July 2010

In Regency society the best hope for sustaining the family fortune is to breed “an heir and a spare.” But if the heir claims the title and all the wealth, what’s the spare to do?

Inheriting a bankrupt earldom and acquiring a hoydenish five-year-old daughter, John Fitzhugh Wyckerly does what any self-respecting gambler would do ... he hunts for a wealthy wife.

Mary Jo Putney, Never Less Than A Lady, Kensington, May 2010

As the sole remaining heir to the Earl of Daventry, battle weary Major Alexander Randall knows his duty: find a demure, ladylike wife and sire a son. But the woman who haunts his imagination is Julia Bancroft—a widowed village midwife with shattering secrets that thrust her into Randall’s protection.

 

Though a union with the handsome, enigmatic major she barely knows offers safety, Julia fears she can never trust any man again. But as passion slowly warms her damaged heart, she starts to hope that perhaps a Lost Lord can teach her what a true marriage can be…

Nicola Cornick, Confessions of a Duchess, MIRA Books, June 2010

 

Laura, Dowager Duchess of Cole, has sworn never to marry again. But the arrival of Dexter Anstruther, the man with whom she once shared one forbidden night of passion, throws her plans and her heart into turmoil...

Jo Beverley, The Secret Duke, Signet, April 2010

A Georgian romance:
His secrets could break her heart, but her own could cost her life...

Cara Elliott, To Sin With A Scoundrel & To Surrender With a Rogue

Because of my graphic design background, I think I tend to annoy art departments. Whenever I am shown cover sketches, I offer LOTS of detailed suggestions, complete with color swatches asking (quite politely, I might add) for tiny changes in hue . . . Most of the time, I'm politely ignored. However, I was quite delighted with the new cover for my Cara Elliott launch, To Sin With A Scoundrel. I love the simple, striking image of the couple, as well as the colors (and I must say, they did adjust the headline color, which I thought was lovely of them!)

The upcoming June cover for To Surrender To A Rogue is very pretty too, though I would have liked to see the figures a little larger . . . see, I told you was a pain! 

And here's my own new cover ...

Susan Fraser King, Queen Hereafter: A Novel of Margaret of Scotland, Crown/Random House hardcover, December 2010

A Saxon princess in need of sanctuary--and a roughshod king in need of a bride...

Shipwrecked on a Scottish shore while fleeing the enemy, the Saxon royal family must beg protection from the powerful, brutish King Malcolm Canmore, who bargains his help for the chance to found a dynasty. Soon a foreign queen in a strange land, Margaret must learn quickly who is friend and who is foe in an era where trust is a dangerous thing...and her own courage is the key to all she could ever desire...  

There's the lot of the new Wenchly covers for now (more gorgeous new covers in the works!). As you can see, our cover karma is in pretty good shape just now! We hope you'll look for these in bookstores starting soon . . . 

And may the lovely luck o' the Irish be with you today and always! 

Susan

Ask A Wench: It Started with a Place...

Nicola here, with the March Ask-A-Wench feature, where a number of Wenches answer a question sent in by a reader.  Cheryl Castings asked this question and wins a book from me:

"I love to travel, and I have seen some wonderful sights.  I was wondering if any of the Wenches has ever been so captivated by an historic or scenic site that she felt compelled to write a story with that setting.  I know that many authors start with either characters or a plot as a story idea, but have any of you STARTED with a PLACE?"

Anne Gracie was inspired by the exotic:  Cheryl, I, too am a keen traveller, and many of my books have been set partially in places other than England. Various editors, however, have gently encouraged me to rein in this desire, claiming most readers prefer familiar settings.

My second book, TALLIE'S KNIGHT was inspired by an old print I saw of aristocrats on the Grand Tour being carried over the Alps in a kind of basket (like a sedan chair) with hefty Swiss peasant lads providing the muscle. I immediately knew I had to write a Grand Tour story. When I was researching for the story, I came across this description:

"You would have been diverted at seeing us cross the barrier into Piedmont called Mount Cenis. The day before yesterday we left Lansleburg tied on litters like cripples, muzzled and pack'd in straw, our chairs supported by wild Savoyards, and relays of them running by the side, who hopp'd nimbly with us rock to rock, singing and emulating each other in feats of activity..."

My most recent book, TO CATCH A BRIDE, is set in Egypt. I'd been to Egypt when I was a little girl (though I never saw the pyramids except in the distance.) I was fascinated by the narrow cobbled streets only as wide as a donkey, the crowded markets, the colorful throng of exotically-dressed people, the street beggars and conjurors, the strange and wonderful things for sale, the scent of exotic spices and strange food cooking and so on. They're still vivid in my mind, and I'd always wanted to set a book, or part of a book there. My heroine, rather than being an archaeologist, as in so many Egypt-set historicals, is the lost daughter of an Englishman, and she's been living on her wits in the narrow streets and marketplaces I remember.

Cara Elliott loved the Irish mountains: I’ve not yet created an entire book based on a location, but I have been inspired to add certain scenes because of a specific place that I’ve visited. Two examples quickly come to mind . . .

When I was traveling along the Ring of Kerry in southwest Ireland, I drove through Killarney National Park, a hauntingly beautiful wilderness which features breathtaking vistas, scenic lakes and the rugged McGillycuddy’s Reeks, the highest mountains in Ireland. It was such a dramatic setting that I knew I wanted to use it in a story. So in SEDUCED BY A SPY, one of my Andrea Pickens books, I created a chase scene where my heroine and hero eluded their enemies among the rocky trails.

A second inspiration was Bovey Castle, a magnificent country estate hotel set in England’s Dartmoor National Park (the setting of Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles.) With its rambling stone manor house, formal gardens, rolling lawns and mist-shrouded woodlands, the place had a wonderfully mysterious ambiance. Not long after my visit, I needed a remote ducal estate in which to stage a rare book auction and immediately thought of Bovey Castle as my “role model for Marquand Castle in THE SPY WORE SILK.

Jo Beverley featured dramatic coastal settings: This isn't exactly a matter of a place inspiring a story because I already had part of the story for THE DRAGON'S BRIDE. It was taking place on the coast, and I picked the Dorset/Devon border because the geography felt right and I knew it  had smuggling history. As we were coming over for a holiday and research trip, we went to the area, in particular the small town of Bee, which might be a good setting.

It was perfect for my story, but I hadn't realized that a famous smuggler, Jack Ratterbury, was operating there exactly when my story was taking place! That  wasn't going to work with my book, in which there already was a local smuggling  master, "Captain Drake." Strangely enough, a previous Captain Drake, Melchisedeck Clyst,  had semi-retired and run a pub there, as Rattenbury was in 1816 in Beer.

My solution was simple -- I renamed the location, but Dragon's Cove is Beer, and when you look at this picture of the Beer headland,  imagine Crag Wyvern up there, a bizarre house built to look like a medieval keep.

Mary Jo Putney journeyed through the Outer Hebrides : I've never had a story kicked off by a particular place, but setting is really important to me, and I've certainly had scenes and settings inspired by places I've been.  Many years ago, before I started writing, I visited the Outer Hebrides island of Harris and Lewis, and we visited a crumbled, deserted village that was all blackhouses.  This is a primitive form of building with dry stone construction and thatched roofs and absolutely no creature comforts.  Smoke from a peat fire formed a layer in the air before making its way out of a hole in the middle of the roof.  Often people lived at one end and animals at the other.  You can see why people abandoned them when better became available!

All the blackhouses in the little village had fallen into ruin, with remnants of walls and tumbled rocks and long fallen beams.  I thought at the time it would be a great setting for a romantic suspense chase scene, with lots of places for the hunted to hide.  And sure enough, that's what happened to my poor hero and heroine in my historical, SHATTERED RAINBOWS.  Bits and pieces of places like this are always showing up in my stories.  Not only is this fun, it's why writers can take tax deductions on research trips.

Pat Rice was enchanted by France: This doesn't happen to me often. As you say, I usually start with character and maybe a situation.  So I probably had a psychotic moment while traveling with a busload of hormonal teenagers through France... 

But as we drove through the French countryside, passing magnificent palaces and fields and valleys, we also passed a beautiful forest on a distant hill. Not the chaotic confusion of our American forests but what was probably a planned planting since the trees were mostly the same height, although I didn't see an end to them.  And for whatever reason, I saw a silent young woman among those trees, one with silver hair looking almost ethereal, carrying a basket of flowers. From that sighting emerged the book THE SILVER ENCHANTRESS, one of my real oldies.

Nicola Cornick dreamed of islands: When I first read the question I thought "that never happens to me; I start with character, or occasionally a plot idea." But actually when I started to think about it I realised that I am frequently inspired by location. One example is from one of my oldies, LADY ALLERTON'S WAGER. The wager in question is made between a lord and a lady over possession of an island called Fairhaven which had been in her family for centuries but had been lost in a game of chance. She plays the hero for the island and wins but then he reneges on the bet. Fairhaven was inspired by Lundy Island in the Bristol Channel, a place I have visited several times. It's remote, stunningly beautiful and packed with intriguing history. The medieval castle has been converted into three apartments and staying there is a fabulous treat!

More recently I was inspired by a trip to Spitsbergen in the Arctic. I was stunned by the beauty of the landscape and remember feeling that I absolutely had to set a book there. When I read about the history of the island and discovered what an important role it had in the voyages of exploration at the start of the nineteenth century I began to visualise my hero, a rugged Naval captain and explorer, a reluctant celebrity  who was impatient with the ways of polite Regency society. I'm very excited about WHISPER OF SCANDAL, which comes out later this year and kicks off a new series of mine with unusual backgrounds or settings.

Thank you for giving us all the opportunity to dwell on some of our favorite settings, Cheryl. Now it's over to all of you. Is there a place you've visited and were struck by what a marvellous setting it would make for a story?   Do you have any favorite books when it comes to unusual locations?

Book Winners and a New Newsletter!

Happy Daylight Saving Time, everyone!

Our newest book winners are: Cynthia Parker.  Cynthia has won a copy of Cara Elliott's To Sin With A Scoundrel.  Helen Vreugdenhil, who wins a backlist book of her choice from Jo Beverley.  Congratulations, Cynthia and Helen!

Have you seen our newsletter lately? We've made some big changes to our monthly e- newsletter, and now we're including pictures.  To subscribe, just click on the "Word Wenches e-Newsletter" link in the sidebar on the right.  Each newsletter will include a little something extra for subscribers, over and above what visitors to our blog see.  Be a part of the "in" crowd.  Sign up for the newsletter today!

Confusions of the season

 Anne here, confessing that when I'm working on a book, I sometimes have to think twice about what season I'm in. It's what happens when you're in the writing cave. I live in the southern hemisphere, but communicate almost constantly with people in the northern hemisphere, so they're in winter and talking about ice and snow and blizzards and sending me pictures.  I'm also very much in the season of the book — currently early Spring in England. So at times, when I go to take the dog for her daily walk, I'm surprised to find it's a warm and balmy summer evening.

It's also complicated because where I live, in Melbourne, Australia, we're famous (infamous?) for having four seasons in one day. It couldn't have been more true recently, where we went from roasting temperatures to an incredibly severe hailstorm, then to sunshine and blue skies and then cold again.

Hailstones as big as tennis balls  

The hailstorm was one of the worst in years -- huge hailstones, bigger than I've ever seen. In fact the first I knew of the storm was a loud crack! on the roof. I thought kids were chucking stones onto the roof. But more followed, and when I looked up from the computer screen, the sky was really dark. (Pic source: The Age)

It took a moment to register what was happening because although my body was in an early afternoon in late summer, my mind was still caught up in the word of my current story, in a cold, late winter's night in Regency England. So the cold and the darkness seemed appropriate. Even the stones landing on the roof suited the story. 

  Then there was a blinding flash of lightning, followed immediately by a roar of thunder all around and the computer screen and everything else went black. No electricity. Then the heavens opened and the hail just pelted down. The air was white with it. Hailstones bounced off the car and slammed against the windows. I thought the windows might break, it was so loud and violent. But I didn't really believe they would. (Herald/Sun reader pic)

 In minutes my front lawn was covered in large, icy white pebbles. For me, the hail was merely spectacular and exciting. And when it was followed by a torrential downpour  and then heavy rain set in for the rest of the day, I was pleased, as we've been in drought for years. I had no idea of  wider damage, such as this.  (Herald/Sun reader pic)

 I learned later I'd experienced the outer edge of the storm and people in the heart of it did have their windows -- even their car windows--and roofs smashed by hail. A huge amount of damage was done and many people were badly injured, traumatized and bruised by the huge balls of ice and the floods that followed. (Herald/Sun reader pic)

 Holidaymakers in summer gear pelted by ice  

It was a long weekend, our Labour Day holiday and in Melbourne we have a festival called Moomba. The city was thronging with holiday makers and children -- it's very much a family and child-friendly festival and, as I said, it was warm before the storm, so people were caught in their summer clothes and with no protection. .(Herald/Sun reader pic)

But some people always find a silver lining.

Undoubtedly it was a dreadful storm, and many people suffered as a result of it and they have my sincere sympathy. But I also love the way some people refuse to be daunted and take the storm and the floods that followed as an opportunity.

 Why drive when you can kickboard?

(Herald/Sun reader pic)

Or kayack along the highway?  

(Herald/Sun reader pic)

We don't get snow in Melbourne, but when it hails, we make hailmen and have hail fights. Because it would be a sin to waste it, you understand.

  (Herald/Sun reader pics 1 & 2)

   And if a big pile of ice falls on a holiday, especially a summer holiday,  it's obviously been sent for A Good Reason, such as keeping your beer cold.  (Herald/Sun reader pic) 

And now the earth is soaked and fragrant in a way it hasn't been for months, and people are cleaning up the mess left after the storm. And I, blessedly free from storm damage, am back in Regency England, in late winter, wondering whether to give my characters a hail storm...

It seems to me that these freak storms of nature, whether seasonal or unseasonal, are becoming more frequent. What do you think? Had any crazy weather lately? And was there any silver lining?

Michelle Willingham Shares Her Inspiration!

Today I am delighted to introduce Michelle Willingham as my Word Wenches guest. Michelle is the author of seven novels and three novellas for Harlequin Mills and Boon Historicals.  Her most recent release, The Accidental Countess was available in the UK this past January. Most of Michelle's books are set in Medieval Ireland and her website at www.michellewillingham.com has a wealth of fascinating historical detail. It's the sort of site where I can happily lose myself browsing the articles, links and photographs. Today Michelle is talking about a different historical period, however, and treating us to an insight into the background to her current US release, The Accidental Princess.

Michelle writes:

"I don't think I'm the only woman who has a fascination with The Titanic.  Even after seeing the Leonardo DiCaprio/Kate Winslet version, I watched National Geographic specials about unearthing the secrets of The Titanic.  It was fascinating to see such luxurious ship quarters with crystal chandeliers, gilded furnishings, and rooms devoted to leisure.

When I wrote my historical romance The Accidental Princess, I knew the hero and heroine would journey
on board a ship to the fictional country of Lohenberg (nestled between Germany and Denmark).  I was a little wary of steam travel, having visions of tiny boats and horrendous conditions.  I contacted the Mariner's Museum of Newport News, Virginia, and made an appointment to look at historical photographs of 1855 steamships.  To my surprise, even back then, steamship travel could be a true luxury, particularly in transatlantic voyages.

Although my characters only traveled from England to Germany, I took the liberty of using a larger ship.  I used a combination of two real-life vessels to create my own steamship.  The first ship, The Great Britain , was completed in 1845.   The promenade deck was sheltered by the upper deck, giving passengers a way of walking around and getting fresh air within a sheltered space.  The first class state rooms had berths built into the walls, one on top of another, for passengers to sleep in.  There were also furnishings bolted into the floors, such as dressers and tables. 

In The Great Britain, the dining rooms could seat up to three hundred guests.  The high ceilings, oil paintings, column supports, and exquisite place settings provided nothing but the best accommodations and meals for passengers.  Potted plants were set upon the tables, along with crystal decanters and white tablecloths.  

Another ship, The Great Eastern, was begun in 1854 and finished in 1858.  Although primarily used for
transatlantic voyages, I used the interior of the Grand Saloon for another story scene.  The room was 63 feet long, 47 feet wide, and 14 feet high.  Mirrors disguised the funnels, and the floors were carpeted.  Velvet sofas and green marble-topped tables adorned the space, and gilt chandeliers hung from the ceilings.  No expense was spared.

I wanted the characters of Lady Hannah and Lieutenant Michael Thorpe to grow closer during the voyage, and since parlour games were popular among the passengers, I used a real game called Forfeit in the story.  Passengers would surrender up a personal item, and whoever bid upon it could have the forfeit of their choice (singing, nonsense behavior, or something scandalous!).  I'll let your imagination figure out what sort of forfeit Lady Hannah gave to the Lieutenant!

Although they aren't nearly as luxurious nowadays, I can only imagine that historical ships provided the inspiration for modern-day cruises.  Have you ever been on a cruise before?  Where did you go?  From the comments, I'll draw one lucky winner to receive a signed copy of The Accidental Princess (available in North America now and in the UK this November).

Michelle, I love the opulent sound of the background to this book and I'm looking forward to reading Hannah and Michael's story very much! I've visited the Great Britain and it is fascinating to step into such a different world. Thank you for giving us an insight into your inspiration. There's much more information on Michelle's website and don't forget to comment for a chance to win a copy of the book!

If it's March....

...it must be Tempting Fortune.

(That's Charlie hanging out in Versailles, a few years back.)

It's "interesting" to have such a busy publishing schedule. As soon as one book's out, another shoots in the door! Let's see -- October, Lord Wraybourne's Betrothed; November, Lady Notorious in the UK; a breather over Christmas, and then January, Chalice of Roses; February, The Stanforth Secrets; March, Tempting Fortune in the UK; April, The Secret Duke.

I feel as if that should be a choral !!!!!!!! like "Five Golden Rings!"

June, The Stolen Bride; October, Emily and the Dark Angel.

(That green is called "spring frost." Rather strange. If it were frosted, would it be white? We've had a lot of that in the mornings recently.)

To add to the interest, being over in England does make me feel slightly less connected to the North American publishing scene. It makes no sense in this Global Village, but not seeing the books around is sort of odd.

Book Of The Month

For any of you in the UK, Tempting Fortune will be out on the 22nd of March, though if you're in the Blackpool area you can get a copy on March 19th, when I'll be signing books at Morrison's there. This is the UK cover, and it's proving to be a bit controversial. One person on line called it "butt ugly" and I find it a bit grim. However some people love it.

They've chosen to show Portia on her way to be auctioned off in a brothel, which accounts for the grimness. What do you think?

There's an excerpt here.

This book is out of print in North America. If you're looking for a copy, you could order it from The Book Depository which ships free world wide.

Weather of the Month

I'm pleased to announce that spring is springing here in Britain. The air's still cold up here, but we have sunshine from a clear blue sky and birds are tweeting, twittering, and occasionally singing their little hearts out all around. It's not dawn chorus time yet. Apparently the official dawn chorus day is May 2nd, according to this site. You can listen to a recording of the dawn chorus there. It truly is a wonder. Though I remember as a student cursing it when I'd rolled back to my room in the early hours, and there it was, at incredible volume, celebrating the dawn.

One problem with Whitby is lack of trees, which probably means it'll be a very muted affair. We've been studying the local birds, however, trying to remember what's what after so long away. My husband took this rather nice photo of a sparrow.  Do click on it to see the bigger version.

Historical tid-bit.

On my blog, Minepast, I posted the following about sinecures, which were very common in the 18th century. One of the characters in the book I'm working on (An Unlikely Countess) celebrates the fact that he has a few, thus allowing him to live a gracious London life.

A sinecure is a job that provides income without requiring much if any work. There are still a lot around today, requiring only occasional attendance as a figurehead. Promotional use of athletes in advertizing can be considered a sinecure as little actual work is involved for large amounts of money.

In the 18th century sinecures were usually actual jobs, but someone else was hired to do any necessary work at a much lower income. There were also court appointments which did require some work, at the least attendance, but still paid very well while also giving access to royalty with all the benefits that can bring. I came across a list of the household of Princess Augusta in the mid 18th century.

http://www.history.ac.uk/resources/office/augusta

Princess Augusta was King George III's mother, so her household is grand. Why is she not queen? Because her husband, the Prince of Wales, died before becoming king.

Among the grander people of her household, we have:

Groom of Stole and Mistress of Robes
Lady Hamilton had £500 as Groom of Stole and £400 as Mistress of Robes and possibly also £400 as Lady of Bedchamber. 900 pounds a year was a lot of money back then.

When she retired as Groom of Stole and Mistress of Robes c 6 June 1745 she was granted pension of £1200

Perhaps the business people with their bonuses and grand severance packages are just following an old aristocratic tradition!

How's spring doing where you are? Or autumn, perhaps. Have you ever heard the dawn chorus? I'm not sure where it happens other than in the leafier parts of of Britain. Please report here if you have it near you.

I'll send a back list book to one randomly picked commenter this time. Anything I have (don't have everything!) published before 2007.

Jo

(1) Michelle Willingham - March 10 and (2) Book Winner

Michelle Willingham will be Nicola Cornick's guest on Wednesday and Thursday, March 10 and 11.  Michelle writes historical romances for Harlequin Mills & Boon, most of which are set in medieval Ireland.  On Wednesday and Thursday, however, Michelle will talk about the research she did for her new Victorian series just out. 

We have another winner!  Chelsea Brooks, our newest winner, won a book from Jo Beveley.  Congratulations, Chelsea!

A Love letter to Jane Austen

Hi all, Cara/Andrea here,

As spring fever begins to waft through the air, bringing with it beguiling hints that the long, cold winter is finally waving goodbye, I decided it was high time to take off my fuzzy synchilla sweatpants and venture outside of my cozy little writing room. I love sitting for hours on end at my computer, tapping out my stories with my patented two-fingered hunt-and-peck technique. But I also love research forays, which I find are like a breath of fresh air to the creative process.

Whether it’s a museum exhibit, a history lecture, a library talk—I always find something new and exciting to get my heart thumping. Imagination is a wondrous thing, and it’s fascinating to see how each of us has a unique perspective on the world around us.  

My foray this week was to the Morgan Library in New York, where they were featuring an exhibit entitled: “A Woman’s Wit: Jane Austen’s Life and Legacy. A small but fabulous show, it consisted mainly of her personal letters to family and friends, along with related prints from the era and early editions of her books. (The Morgan owns the largest collection of Austen’s correspondence, and much of it not been shown for over twenty five years.)

It was an incredible experience to see her actual handwriting, and read her astute observations and pithy comments! She becomes so very real as a person, and at times I was almost laughing aloud at her tart humor and acerbic wit. Not that it was any surprise, but it highlighted how much of her own personality is in her books. Here’s one of my favorite examples: in writing about a new acquaintance, Jane comments, “I do not perceive any Wit or Genius in her . . . She seems to like people rather too easily.”

Her brother Henry notes that Jane loved party-going and was very fond of dancing. (It is noted in the exhibition that most of her heroines and heroes were excellent dancers—Jane and Elizabeth Bennett included.) Indeed, one of Jane’s letters says, “I believe I drank too much wine last night at Hurstbourne.” Not that I think she would give Paris Hilton a run for her money, but apparently Jane liked to cut loose on occasion!

Just to give you all a bit more of the flavor, I’m going to share some more actual quotes, as listed in the Morgan’s exhibit notes:

Austen's niece Caroline recollected: "As to my aunt's personal appearance, hers was the first face I can remember thinking pretty. Her face was rather round than long, she had a bright, but not a pink colour—a clear brown complexion, and very good hazel eyes. Her hair, a darkish brown, curled naturally, it was in short curls around her face. She always wore a cap." (Note, this painting on the right is an idealized portrait of Jane, taken from the unfinished sketch done by her sister Cassandra.)

In her letter dated 24 May, 1813, Austen reports seeing a painting of how she imagines Jane Bennet, who marries Mr. Bingley at the conclusion of Pride and Prejudice. "Mrs Bingley is exactly herself, size, shaped face, features & sweetness; there never was a greater likeness. She is dressed in a white gown, with green ornaments, which convinces me of what I had always supposed, that green was a favourite colour with her." Scholars suspect that the painting she refers to is the Portrait of Mrs Q by the French portrait painter François Huet-Villiers. (shown at left) Harriet Quentin was a mistress to George IV when he was prince regent. William Blake's 1820 engraving reproduces the portrait. In the same letter, Austen suspects that Elizabeth Bennet, later Mrs. Darcy, would have different preferences: "I dare say Mrs D. will be in Yellow."

In Austen's letter to Cassandra, written from Bath on 2 June 1799, she commented on the style of contemporary hat decorations with evident amusement: "Flowers are very much worn, & Fruit is still more the thing.—Eliz: has a bunch of Strawberries, & I have seen Grapes, Cherries, Plumbs & Apricots—There are likewise Almonds & raisins, french plums & Tamarinds at the Grocers, but I have never seen any of them in hats." (The image at right is a detail from one of the Gillray prints that are part of the exhibit.)

I adore Jane Austen, and found this exhibit gave me an even deeper appreciation of her as a person and an author. How about you? Are you an Austen fan? Do you have a favorite book or character? (I love Lizzie Bennett and Anne Elliot.)

The Checklist Manifesto: How to Get Things Right

by Mary Jo

Lists.  Shopping lists, laundry list, to do lists.  They’re some of the most boring things in the world.  But lists are also one of the most powerful tools we have for dealing with the ever multiplying complexities of modern life.

I didn’t realize that latter fact until reading The Checklist Manifesto  by Atul Gawande, a doctor and writer whose resume is enough to make strong women reach for their smelling salts.

The Brooklyn born son of two Indian American physicians, Gawande is a surgeon at a top Boston hospital, an associate professor at Harvard in both medicine and public health, a Rhodes Scholar, a MacArthur fellow, director of a World Health Organization medical program, and somewhere in there he found time to get married and have children. <g>

TCM belongs to the fairly new non-fiction subgenre that uses science and really good writing to examine a narrow topic and give readers interesting new insights.  The books tend to be quite short, so you can read them quickly and come away feeling virtuous, entertained, and better informed.  While such books may be criticized for being simplistic, they’re still fun to read.

Godfather of this mini-genre is Malcolm Gladwell, author of the bestselling books The Tipping Point,  (about the “social epidemics” that create sudden change, Blink (the complex judgments that go into quick decisions), and Outliers, (about factors that help people really excel.)

Gawande’s thesis is that some errors stem from ignorance—we simply don’t know enough about a particular topic.  But many others stem from not properly using what we do know because the sheer volume of information is so overwhelming.  The subtitle of The Checklist Manifesto is How To Get Things Right.

Hence, checklists to ensure that all the critical steps are taken, and in the right order.  In hospitals and surgery, one of the top items is washing hands to prevent the spread of infection.  Everyone knows this needs to be done, but far too often, busyness or inconvenience interfere with basic hygiene, hands don’t get washed, and potentially lethal diseases are spread.
 
Gawande’s writing really reeled me in.  It’s witty, accessible, and full of human stories.  (It's that staff writer for The New Yorker thing.) 

As a doctor and surgeon, he deals with complicated medical procedures all the time, and knows how easily critical steps can be missed.  He starts with the gripping story of a little girl who spent half an hour in an icy pond in Austria.  She was pulled out pulseless and essentially dead, yet enormously complicated procedures over several weeks saved her life.  And this was done not at one of the world’s famous medical centers, but an average rural Austrian hospital.

That’s the spring board Gawande uses for a wide ranging discussion that goes from medicine to aviation to building skyscrapers.  The spine of the book is the author's part in developing checklists to improve operating room outcomes all over world.  Think of the challenge to develop checklists that will benefit hospitals from the West’s best to third world institutions that are desperately short of supplies and personnel!  Watching that operating room list being developed was fascinating.

Gawande's research into improving outcomes takes him to one area where checklists are really well established: aviation.  In 1935, the prototype of the B-17 Flying Fortress bomber crashed during a competition for the army because the highly experienced pilot had so many things to remember that he forgot to release the lock on the elevator and rudder controls. 

Two men died, including the pilot.  It was thought that the aircraft might too complicated to be flown, even with experienced pilots.

But the military wasn’t about to give up a great airplane without trying to solve the complexity problem.  The solution was a checklist, and they’ve become mainstays of aviation at all levels.  (I think that even Han Solo and Chewbacca used checklists when flying the Millennium Falcon.)

TCM has a whole riveting chapter on the “miracle on the Hudson,” when a USAirways jet was landed on the Hudson River with no casualties after the engines were knocked out by a flock of geese.  The pilot, “Sully” Sullenberger was considered merely modest when he said that that the fortunate outcome was a result of teamwork, but as Gawande shows, it truly was a team effort—and checklists had a lot to do with the miraculous results. 

Effective checklists have to be short enough that they won’t be ignored, and they have to hit the salient points, which means a lot of experimentation.  I loved reading about how Gawande and his team devised checklists for operating theaters and the adjustments that were made after testing.

The bottom line on The Checklist Manifest is that A) checklists can be incredibly valuable, and B) people often hate to use them.  A successful investor on Wall Street uses a checklist when evaluating potential buys, and does very well. He’s made his list widely available, but virtually no one else uses it.  There is something about the boring routine of checklists that makes it easy for attention to wander.  Some people feel checklists crush creativity and intuition, and they’re boring. 

Plus, experts who have spent years developing their skills don’t like to be told that they might miss a crucial step.  That’s why implementing the surgical checklists had to be a team effort.  Some of the surgeons surveyed sneered at the idea that checklists were needed in THEIR operating rooms.

Yet tellingly, when the same surgeons were asked if they would want checklists used if they themselves were being operated on, 93% said yes.  Because the checklists work. 

Gawande ends the book with an example of an operation he performed when he knows with absolute certainty that the checklist saved the life of one of his patients.  The point involved seemed so unnecessary that it was almost skipped, but Gawande and his team followed their own rules, and a life was saved.

If this is the sort of book you like, you’ll like this book. <g>  I have a fondness for well written essays whether they’re Atul Gawande, Barbara Kingsolver, or John Scalzi. 

The book got me thinking about checklists in daily life.  When I was the art editor of a small magazine in England in the old-fashioned days of paste-ups, every page had a checklist of items that must be looked at—headers, page numbers, photographs, etc.  A friend of mine always uses checklists when evaluating autistic children. 

Heck, a recipe is a form of checklist. Checklists can be really useful when packing for a journey so you don’t end up in Moscow with no winter coat.  (And yes, I know an absent-minded professor who did this because it wasn’t cold at home when he left. <G>)

So how do you feel about checklists as a tool of managing life’s complications?  Do you work in a field that uses them?  Do you think you might profitably apply them in some area of private life? 

And do you feel a deep sense of satisfaction when another item is ticked off on your to do list?  I certainly do!

Mary Jo