Word Wenches

Reindogs!!!

Reindogs!
by Mary Jo

The Wenches Christmastide celebration has a loose theme of “Favorite Things,” and one of my favorite holiday things is the pictures of the Cincinnati SPCA’s annual Reindog Parade that my friend Laura Resnick sends me every year.

 

Much as I love cats, it’s just not possible to imagine persuading them to wear costumes and parade along the streets, but the dogs seem to love it.  Certainly the people do!

So enjoy the reindogs!. This is a selection of some of my favorite pictures from several different years. 

And remember: we should all be so lucky as to have the cheerful disposition of a Golden Retriever! <G>

The Parade Begins

I think this fine fellow has appointed himself the parade police dog. <G>

Elf pups from Santa's workshop.

A bling hound?

And if a pooch is tired, mom will carry him. <G>

 

Small dog, big costume.  (Okay, it's not Christmasy, but how often do you get a chance to wear your elephant costume???)

There must be a third king around here somewhere...

This one really is a reindog!

The Hannukah Hound.  I think this little guy is my favorite.  I've seen him in a number of the parades from over the years. 

So there's your annual dose of reindogs! 

Do you have pets?  How do they feel about the holidays?

Happy New Year's!

Mary Jo

 

 

Eat, Drink and Be Merry!

Cara/Andrea here, wishing all our Wenchly friends a happy holiday season. As is our tradition here, we’re all doing daily posting to celebrate the 12 Days of Chistmas and some of our favorite things about the season. Well, I don’t know about you, but festive food is always one of my favorite treats (did someone say chocolate?) especially when celebrated with family and friends.

I spent Christmas with my older brother and his family—who all love to cook. (Here’s my adorable niece—with SIL in the background enjoying the kitchen chaos—who helped her Dad prepare the amazing wild mushroom risotto.)  Friends brought an array of scrumptious dishes, included a fabulous assortment of cheeses, smoked salmon. Add bright salads, vegetarian specialties, lots of wine, flickering candles, vintage glasses and silver . . . the groaning board was overflowing with good cheer.

I brought a dessert, and as I always enjoy perusing recipes, I decided to try something new I had recently discovered—a Chocolate Guinness cake (which I thought was a fun homage to my SIL, who did her PhD dissertation on James Joyce.) It was a big hit (and I have to say, it really was fabulous, and quite easy to make) So, it’s my favorite recipe of the 2011 Holidays, and I’d like to share it. (Sorry, it disappeared so fast I didn’t have a chance to photograph it! But here's a shot from Nigela Lawson's food site.)

Nigella Lawson's Absolutely Fabulous Chocolate Guinness Cake

1 cup Guinness
1 stick plus 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa
2 cups superfine sugar
3/4 cup sour cream
2 eggs
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/2 teaspoons baking soda

Ingredients for the topping:

8 oz Philadelphia cream cheese
1 1/4 cups confectioners' sugar
1/2 cup heavy cream

Preheat the over to 350 F, and butter and line a 9 inch springform pan.

Pour the Guinness into a large wide saucepan, add the butter — in spoons or slices — and heat until the butter's melted, at which time you should whisk in the cocoa and sugar. Beat the sour cream with the eggs and vanilla and then pour into the brown, buttery, beery pan and finally whisk in the flour and baking soda.

Pour the cake batter into the greased and lined pan and bake for 45 minutes to an hour. Leave to cool completely in the pan on a cooling rack, as it is quite a damp cake.

When the cake's cold, sit it on a flat platter or cake stand and get on with the frosting. Lightly whip the cream cheese until smooth, sift over the confectioner's sugar and then beat them both together. Or do this in a processor, putting the unsifted confectioners' sugar in first and blitz to remove lumps before adding the cheese.

Add the cream and beat again until it makes a spreadable consistency. Ice the top of the black cake so that it resembles the frothy top of the famous pint.

Enjoy! Best wishes to everyone for a happy, healthy New Year!

Book Trees

Joanna here, celebrating the holidays in Paris.

This means cooking filets of duck, new potatoes, and little bitty baby cauliflowers 'au fromage' on a tiny two-burner stove on Christmas Eve.  I had just about forgotten how to cook with this sorta minimum equipment. 

We ate quite lovely Chinese food in the Chinatown of Paris on Christmas Day.  

Ultimate yummy. 

 

Many presents were sent by mail.  They all arrived in time -- isn't that amazing? 

Then there was the technical feat of an international video conference call.  Two countries. Four locations.  Times zones all the way round the world.  And toddlers.
It all worked, somehow.  I am in awe of myself. 

No tree though. So I'm giving myself a 'book tree'.  

food cc attrib mbrochh

 

Holiday Books

This Christmastide, we Wenches are blogging about some of our holiday favorites, and now that it's my turn -- it's not easy to choose! There are so many aspects of this magical season that I love -- the decorations, the lights, the gifts and gift-giving, the chance to see friends and family . . . the angels on our tree, the cookies to share, the crumpled tangle of wrapping paper and ribbon in the living room after friends and family have been here. Of course it's the family and the friends who add the most meaning to the season -- and I love the memories of past Christmases too. 

Other Wenches have mentioned stories, and I agree - the stories of Christmas are so special and so much a part of my own Christmases, past and present, that I have to say that, hands down, Christmas stories are a constant favorite. I've written a few and read a zillion . . . (and this December is extra special to me with the release of Queen Hereafter in gorgeous paperback -- where I got the chance to write about medieval Christmas traditions!).

But having raised three kids, if I have to choose -- it's the children's stories that are my absolute favorhite Cristmas stories. They are just magical, and that sort of storytelling magic endures. 

When my three boys were younger, every year as the holiday season began I’d buy them a new Christmas book or three, which they could open the week before Christmas. We would sit together and read the new stories every night through the holidays (and sometimes beyond if a story became a favorite). Later in the year, often by Thanksgiving, we would get the books out again and read the favorites as well as the newest. Over the years, we have acquired an extensive collection of holiday-themed books.

Some of their (and my!) favorites: Dr. Seuss’s How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, Tazewell’s The Littlest Angel, Dylan Thomas’s A Child’s Christmas in Wales, The Polar Express by Chris Van Allsburg, Tolkein’s Letters from Father Christmas, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson, and my middle son’s absolute all-time favorite, Little Dracula’s Christmas by Martin Waddell (that one he read all through the year, for years - we had it memorized. There's something unique about the combination of vampires and Christmas...).

And many, many more stories -- we read The Polar Express and The Grinch, along with Berkeley Breathed's A Wish for Wings that Work... and then there were our very special favorites, Father Christmas and the brilliantly wordless The Snowman by Raymond Briggs, read so often that we dog-eared the pages together.  (illustration from The Snowman)

"He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming! It came! ... 'It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!'" -- Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas

“The Herdmans were absolutely the worst kids in the history of the world.” --Barbara Robinson, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.

  "But here a small boy says: 'It snowed last year, too. I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea.''But that was not the same snow,' I say. 'Our snow was not only shaken from white wash buckets down the sky, it came shawling out of the ground and swam and drifted out of the arms and hands and bodies of the trees; snow grew overnight on the roofs of the houses like a pure and grandfather moss, minutely-ivied the walls and settled on the postman, opening the gate, like a dumb, numb thunder-storm of white, torn Christmas cards.'"

-- Dylan Thomas, A Child's Christmas in Wales

My three little guys are big guys now, but whenever I come across a good Christmas book, I’ll still add to the family collection. The box of books we keep with the Christmas decorations is very full, and very heavy, and we don't bring it out much any more -- but I still take time to look through them. And the family tradition of Christmas stories will stick with my guys through their lives, too. When their dad played the part of Marley in A Christmas Carol, they read the Dickens again. And not so long ago, they dog-eared a copy of Christopher Moore’s The Stupidest Angel: "Christmas crept into Pine Cove like a creeping Christmas thing...."

I look forward someday to sharing these great books with grandchildren, but until then, they still remain as my own holiday favorites! 

What favorite holiday stories for children hold great memories for you?  

 Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Wishing all of you a happy, healthy, prosperous 2012, filled with peace and genine joy.      

  ~Susan          

 

A Word Wench's 12 Days of Christmas

Anne here, wishing you all the very best of the Christmastide season. In case you're wondering, Christmastide is another word for the 12 days of Christmas, and contrary to popular belief, those 12 days start on Christmas Eve and finish on Epiphany, 6th January.

The WordWenches traditionally post a short post on each day of Christmastide, returning to our usual thrice-weekly posting after 6th January.  I'm starting a blog tour for my book, BRIDE BY MISTAKE, which goes on sale on 3rd January, so I'm shamelessly recyling the poem I wrote for us last Christmastide.

A Word Wench's 12 Days of Christmas...

On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me an Eric Partridge Slang Dictionary.

On the second day of Christmas my true love sent sent to me, two Japanese mangas and an Eric Partridge Slang Dictionary.

 On the third day of Christmas my true love sent to me, three French translations, two Japanese mangas and an Eric Partridge Slang Dictionary.

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me four calling agents, three French translations, two Japanese mangas and an Eric Partridge Slang Dictionary.

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love sent to me five golden RITAs, (these are Jo Beverley's), four calling agents, three French translations, two Japanese mangas and an Eric Partridge Slang Dictionary.

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love sent to me six critics gushing, five golden RITAs, (these are Jo Beverley's), four calling agents, three French translations, two Japanese mangas and an Eric Partridge Slang Dictionary.

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me a seven figure advance, six critics gushing, five golden RITAs, (these are Jo Beverley's), four calling agents, three French translations, two Japanese mangas and an Eric Partridge Slang Dictionary.

On the eighth day of Christmas my true love sent to me eight wenches writing, a seven figure advance, six critics gushing, five golden RITAs, (these are Jo Beverley's), four calling agents, three French translations, two Japanese mangas and an Eric Partridge Slang Dictionary.

On the ninth day of Christmas my true love sent to me nine ladies dancing, eight wenches writing, a seven figure advance, six critics gushing, five golden RITAs, (these are Jo Beverley's), four calling agents, three French translations, two Japanese mangas and an Eric Partridge Slang Dictionary.

On the tenth day of Christmas my true love sent to me ten lairds for loving, nine ladies dancing, eight wenches writing, a seven figure advance, six critics gushing, five golden RITAs, (these are Jo Beverley's), four calling agents, three French translations, two Japanese mangas and an Eric Partridge Slang Dictionary.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me eleven warm fan letters, ten lairds for loving, nine ladies dancing, eight wenches writing, a seven figure advance, six critics gushing, five golden RITAs, (these are Jo Beverley's), four calling agents, three French translations, two Japanese mangas and an Eric Partridge Slang Dictionary.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me twelve movie options, eleven warm fan letters, ten lords a'loving, nine ladies dancing, eight wenches writing, a seven figure advance, six critics gushing, five golden RITAs, (these are Jo Beverley's), four calling agents, three French translations, two Japanese mangas and an Eric Partridge Slang Dictionary.

Have a wonderful Christmastide, everyone. Thank you for a year of fine discussion, book recommendations, shared reading pleasure, fascinating facts and fun. 

The Christmas Visitors

Nicola here, wishing you a Happy Boxing Day! I hope that your Christmas Day brought you all the things you hoped for. Today, 26^th December, is the feast of St Stephen and in some parts of the world is celebrated by eating St Stephen’s Day Pie, which is similar to cottage pie but made using the leftover turkey and ham from the Christmas Day meal. The tradition of Stephening takes place in some English villages, whereby parishoners descend on the rectory and ask for as much free bread, cheese and ale as they can drink!

The name “Boxing Day” can be traced back to the late Roman/early Christian era, when a special collection was made in metal boxes outside churches to be given to the poor and needy. It is this idea that is thought to have inspired the carol Good King Wenceslas who, on the Feast Day of Stephen, set out through the snow with his trusty page to take food and wine to a poor peasant.

From the Middle Ages onward it became the custom to give money and other gifts in the shape of “Christmas Boxes” to servants, who were also given 26^th December off to visit their families. This developed into the Victorian tradition of giving gifts to tradesmen such as the lamplighter and the postman.

These days Boxing Day is often a day for visiting the family and we have lots of relatives coming to eat with us today. A different sort of winter visitor comes to our garden too – this beautiful fieldfare, feasting on the apples in our garden!

When is Christmas?

 

Charlie and Billy are ready, guarding the tree and presents, and each with one of their own to open.

Christmas Day greetings to everyone from me, Jo, and the Wenches.

Are you wondering about the title of this blog? It comes from a snippet I picked up on line.

I went to Wikipedia to check a Yule detail and found this quote.
"About AD 730, the English historian Bede wrote "They began the year with
December 25, the day some now celebrate as Christmas; "

We know that the placement of Christ's birth round about the winter solstice was arbitrary, but I thought it was fixed around the winter solstice earlier than that. I wonder what other days were in use at the time.

"Happy Christmas!"
"What? That's in May. Who'd be traipsing around to pay tax in t'middle of
winter?"
"Well it's different over in the Holy Land, isn't it? Hot over there."
"Then it should be in a hot month here, shouldn't it? Perhaps the neighbours
are right, having it in July. Not that you can always depend on hot in
July...."
"Too much to do in the fields then, and what'd be the point of mince pies, when there's fresh fruit to eat? Better to have it in a quieter time like now, I say. Well, have to be off to wassail someone else. Happy Christmas!"

I haven't done any research, so if you're looking for something diverting to do, see what you can discover about exactly when Christmas became fixed on December 25th.

When you have some time, I've put up a Christmas newsletter here.

It includes a link to the first excerpt from A Scandalous Countess, which will be out in February, which really isn't that far away!

May your day be merry and bright!

Jo

 

Christmas Stories

by Mary Jo

I adore Christmas stories.  This is the season of the year when we can be as gooey, sentimental, and over the top as we want, and IT’S ALL RIGHT! 

We all know the original Christmas story with no room at the inn, the birth, the adoration of shepherds, sheep, and kings.  (And if you like amusing Christmas stories, here’s an interview with the Nativity Innkeeper from the Whatever blog by science fiction writer John Scalzi.) 

Christmas stories have become their own genre, and in recent years it’s become common for bestselling authors to write short Christmas novels.  There are lots of Christmas movies, of course, including beloved ones that are played over and over and over at this time of year:  It's a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th Street, A Christmas Story, and at least four versions of A Christmas Carol.  (My favorite is the George C. Scott version.)  Obviously Charles Dickens was a pioneer in the short Christmas novel category. 

And the Christmas music!  Musicians across the whole spectrum of music from country to gospel and all points in between have recorded Christmas album—and I’ve bought a ton of them.  <G>  An early favorite was Joan Baez’s Noel, which surprised me when it came out because she was known more as a protest/folk singer then.  But it was, and is, exquisite.

Christmas stories deal with reconciliation, returns of the prodigal, unexpected blessings, and finding love and happiness. 

This is a terrific fit with romance, of course.  The first romance Christmas anthology I remember was from Harlequin, and it made a huge splash.  A year later there were lots of Christmas anthologies, and they are still the most popular type of anthology. 

The Signet Regency Christmas anthologies were popular for years and years.  (By the way, it was only a couple of years ago that I learned that an anthology is multiple authors and a collection is several pieces by one author.  I used the terms interchangeably for years.)

All of the Wenches have written Christmas novellas and other short works.  Pat Rice and I have written enough that we can now e-publish whole collections of earlier stories, like Pat’s recently released Christmas Surprises and my Christmas Mischief.  (I have enough more Christmas stories that when I have time, I’ll e-pub a second collection of them.) 

And you don’t even have to be Christian to play.  Our much missed Wench, Edith Layton, was Jewish and she wrote some of the Best. Christmas. Novellas. Ever.  She wrote enough for four or five collections of her holiday stories, and I hope someday they will be available in e-book form.

Mary Balogh is another master of the form who has written many, many Christmas novels and novellas.  She has one collection of five of her Regency Christmas stories, Under the Mistletoe, which is still available in print.  I like to take credit for the collection.  I’d come up with the idea of packaging five of my Christmas stories together as Christmas Revels, and I persuaded my contemporary romance publisher, Berkley, to publish it. 

Not long after, I was talking with the Signet Regency editor who worked with Mary Balogh and me for years.  I forget the context, but I suggested she do an all-Balogh Christmas collection, and she jumped on the idea, with Under the Mistletoe the happy result. 

One of my favorites among my own stories is “The Christmas Cuckoo,” now available in my Christmas Mischief collection, and it contains all the holiday tropes, plus the kinds of characters I write about over and over because I love them. 

A weary soldier named Major Jack Howard comes home from the wars just before Christmas, steps off a coach, and is intercepted by a representative of his distant family who gives him orders about how to make himself presentable.  Not in the mood to be bossed around, Jack gets on the next coach leaving the inn, not caring where it’s going.

Riding on the bitter cold top of the coach, Jack drinks some very potent spirits to keep from freezing, and falls asleep in an inn during a short stop to change horses.  Meanwhile, a warm-hearted young lady named Meg Lambert comes to the posting inn to collect Captain Jack Howard, the best friend of her soldier brother, whom she’s never met.

So she goes home with the wrong Jack Howard because he doesn’t know who she is, but he’d follow her ANYWHERE. And then he wakes up sober, and doesn’t want to leave because he is discovering the warmth and happiness he’s never known.

“The Christmas Cuckoo” is outrageous.  It is shameless.  It is schmaltzy.  It is the one of the Mayhem Consultant’s favorite stories, and one Christmas he had me read favorite scenes out loud to him. 

Is there a happy ending?  Do we even have to ask?   <G>  Here’s a very short Christmas story, "Sarah's Sister," also by science fiction author John Scalzi. The story is not science fiction, it’s shamelessly emotional and I loved it.

So what are your favorite Christmas stories?  Ones you’ve read, or ones you’ve lived?  I’d love to hear!

Happy holidays to all from the Wordwenches.  From Christmas to Twelfth Night, the Christmastide period, we'll be posting little holiday favorites  of various sorts, so stop by for some fun. 

May you have a holiday of warmth and laughter--

Mary Jo

Looking at the World Through Regency Glasses

Joanna here, talking about eyeglasses in the Regency period.

The idea of eyeglasses isn't new.  Dipping into wayback history, folks were getting a close look at small stuff with a clear, curving crystal in ancient times.

Here's the Nimrud Stone, a piece of ground, polished rock crystal found in the excavation of a 3000-year-old Assyrian palace.  Lenses like this have turned up in Greek burial sites that are even older. 

These first magnifying glasses gave the users up to 10X enlargement, which is to say they compare favorably with the magnifying glass you have in your desk right now and use for reading the print in your OED or threading needles or staring in bemused enjoyment at the whorls and ridges of your thumbprint. 

Scholars figure these very early lenses were used by Greek and Sumerian craftsmen to produce the unbelievably fine detail in some of their art work.  Or gazing at the rings of Saturn.  Or, y'know, looking at their thumb.

What limited the number and quality of these first lenses — the reason Cleopatra didn't wear eyeglasses — was they hadn't got around to making cheap and clear glass yet.  High quality glass was precious. That's why Tutankhamun's hoard of jewels is made of gold, ivory, lapis lazuli, carnelian, turquoise, and . . . glass.  This must have come as a disappointment to the Victorian treasure-seekers in the Nile valley.  They'd open a tomb and pull out a fancy pectoral or amulet and it was brilliant, colorful glass, instead of, say, brilliant colorful emeralds.


Folks finally made reliably clear glass on a large scale in Italy. 

Thirteenth Century Italy was the hotbed of glass technology for its day.  Venice — the Medieval Silicon Valley of glasswork — turned out round, hand-held magnifiers on a regular basis.  About 1280 some bright lad, his name forever lost to history, mounted two of these glass disks in round frames and joined them together.  Presto.  Eyeglasses. 

And, lickety-split, as historical innovation goes, we get portraits of people with spectacles.  This 1352 portrait to the left may be the earliest representation of eyeglasses.



There were two kinds.  Perch-on-the-nose glasses, for one.  Pince-nez we'd call them now.  That's a circa 1700 example on the left.  This picture to the right is from 1466.

We also get a scissors-type eyeglasses that joined together at a hinge and could be adjusted to fit.  This kind of glasses could be held up as we see to the left, or held up from below.  The scissors glasses seem awkward, but they appear in portraits right along to the Regency so they must have had hidden charm and utility.

You can see the difficulty with both kinds.  They were always ready to fall off.  You had to tie a ribbon around your head or keep one hand on your glasses.  Tedious, to say the least. They'd be for reading and close work only.

In the early 1700s a London spectacles maker, Edward Scarlett, advertised a clever solution.  His glasses had folding hinged struts on the sides and two arms to hold the optics onto the head.  There were even loops, sometimes, to tie the glasses on.  Now your spectacles didn't fall off every time you incautiously reached for a new sheet of paper. 

It became practical to walk around wearing the things.  All this improvement in eyeglass technology meant people could pay intelligent attention to where they were going. This lasted till the invention of the ipod.
Benjamin Franklin, one of my favorite people — he's up at the top of the page — invented bifocals in 1784.
It was also in the Eighteenth Century that glasses met the masses.  They were no longer for scholars and artists.  This traveling glasses pedlar on the left argues that glasses were cheap enough that a country woman in a cottage was likely to buy a pair. This ragged tailor on the right can afford glasses to pursue his trade.
 
I haven't found examples of these Georgian and Regency glasses with a curve to fit neatly around the ear.  They seem to have hugged the head in a steely embrace, doubtless leading to many a Regency headache.  Some, intended to tuck into the fashionable wigs of the time, had fierce and sharpish-looking points.

Now, with all this development of practical eyeglasses that gripped the head and stayed on and didn't require constant fidgeting, you'd think the old, precarious sort without side pieces would disappear. 
Not so much.  As the new utilitarian eyeglasses spread through the hoi polloi, the inconvenient older optics were now considered spiffy and upper-crust.

So, you had your quizzing glass. 
This was a single, hand-held lens, like a magnifying glass. 

Single lenses that you held had long since been replaced by spectacles for everyday use.  Round about 1790 the French, as the French will, turned this passe object into a fashion accessory.  If you needed glasses, or even if you didn't, you could walk around with a quizzing glass handy, maybe hanging it on a long chain worn around the neck. The you whipped it out to inspect something.
Fashionably.

 
The double-barreled version of the quizzing glass was the lorgnette, which is sort of glasses-on-a-stick.  Like the quizzing glass, the lorgnette was a decorative social prop, capable of depressing pretension all the way across the ballroom. 

The word lorgnette, you will be pleased to know, comes from the French lorgner, 'to peer at', from Middle French lorgne, 'squint'.  The French, being contrary, call this instrument a face-a-main — a 'face-to-hand' — and then use the French word lorgnette to mean, not that, but a quizzing glass or small telescope.
The word English word 'lorgnette' appears in 1803 so you should probably not have your character raise her lorgnette to intimidate an encroaching mushroom before that.  Unless she is French.  In which case she is talking about a quizzing glass. 
Life is complex.

One thing you notice, when you're looking at paintings of Georgian and Regency crowd scenes, is how few people are wearing glasses.  When you do see glasses in a crowd, they're generally perched on the nose of a plump parson or peering, bent old woman.  I set aside the possibilities of Eighteenth Century Lasik surgery, contact lenses, and a general eagle-eyed-ness in the population and ask myself why.


Regency Romances portray glasses as a bit fuddy-duddy.  Our Regency heroines hide their spectacles in their reticules (and our Regency heroes have better eyesight than the average squad of fighter pilots.)  This is a Regency Romance convention that seems to have good evidence on its side. 

Nimrud stone and quizzling glass attrib British Museum. Scissor glasses and lorgnette attrib The Met. Pectoral of Senusret cc attrib John Compana. Glasses with wig points and glasses with loops Museum of Vision by permission. Spectacles and case attrib V&A.
 
 
So.  Thinking about the impact of eyeglasses on the world . . .  Imagine a life with no eyeglasses, and you with not-so-good eyes.  What would you miss most?
One lucky commenter will win a still-fairly-hot-off-the-presses copy of Black Hawk.

Looking at the World Through Regency Glasses

Joanna here, talking about eyeglasses in the Regency period.

The idea of eyeglasses isn't new.  Dipping into wayback history, folks were getting a close look at small stuff with a clear, curving crystal in ancient times.

Here's the Nimrud Stone, a piece of ground, polished rock crystal found in the excavation of a 3000-year-old Assyrian palace.  Lenses like this have turned up in Greek burial sites that are even older. 

These first magnifying glasses gave the users up to 10X enlargement, which is to say they compare favorably with the magnifying glass you have in your desk right now and use for reading the print in your OED or threading needles or staring in bemused enjoyment at the whorls and ridges of your thumbprint. 

Scholars figure these very early lenses were used by Greek and Sumerian craftsmen to produce the unbelievably fine detail in some of their art work.  Or gazing at the rings of Saturn.  Or, y'know, looking at their thumb.

What limited the number and quality of these first lenses — the reason Cleopatra didn't wear eyeglasses — was they hadn't got around to making cheap and clear glass yet.  High quality glass was precious. That's why Tutankhamun's hoard of jewels is made of gold, ivory, lapis lazuli, carnelian, turquoise, and . . . glass.  This must have come as a disappointment to the Victorian treasure-seekers in the Nile valley.  They'd open a tomb and pull out a fancy pectoral or amulet and it was brilliant, colorful glass, instead of, say, brilliant colorful emeralds.


Folks finally made reliably clear glass on a large scale in Italy. 

Thirteenth Century Italy was the hotbed of glass technology for its day.  Venice — the Medieval Silicon Valley of glasswork — turned out round, hand-held magnifiers on a regular basis.  About 1280 some bright lad, his name forever lost to history, mounted two of these glass disks in round frames and joined them together.  Presto.  Eyeglasses. 

And, lickety-split, as historical innovation goes, we get portraits of people with spectacles.  This 1352 portrait to the left may be the earliest representation of eyeglasses.



There were two kinds.  Perch-on-the-nose glasses, for one.  Pince-nez we'd call them now.  That's a circa 1700 example on the left.  This picture to the right is from 1466.

We also get a scissors-type eyeglasses that joined together at a hinge and could be adjusted to fit.  This kind of glasses could be held up as we see to the left, or held up from below.  The scissors glasses seem awkward, but they appear in portraits right along to the Regency so they must have had hidden charm and utility.

You can see the difficulty with both kinds.  They were always ready to fall off.  You had to tie a ribbon around your head or keep one hand on your glasses.  Tedious, to say the least. They'd be for reading and close work only.

In the early 1700s a London spectacles maker, Edward Scarlett, advertised a clever solution.  His glasses had folding hinged struts on the sides and two arms to hold the optics onto the head.  There were even loops, sometimes, to tie the glasses on.  Now your spectacles didn't fall off every time you incautiously reached for a new sheet of paper. 

It became practical to walk around wearing the things.  All this improvement in eyeglass technology meant people could pay intelligent attention to where they were going. This lasted till the invention of the ipod.
Benjamin Franklin, one of my favorite people — he's up at the top of the page — invented bifocals in 1784.
It was also in the Eighteenth Century that glasses met the masses.  They were no longer for scholars and artists.  This traveling glasses pedlar on the left argues that glasses were cheap enough that a country woman in a cottage was likely to buy a pair. This ragged tailor on the right can afford glasses to pursue his trade.
 
I haven't found examples of these Georgian and Regency glasses with a curve to fit neatly around the ear.  They seem to have hugged the head in a steely embrace, doubtless leading to many a Regency headache.  Some, intended to tuck into the fashionable wigs of the time, had fierce and sharpish-looking points.

Now, with all this development of practical eyeglasses that gripped the head and stayed on and didn't require constant fidgeting, you'd think the old, precarious sort without side pieces would disappear. 
Not so much.  As the new utilitarian eyeglasses spread through the hoi polloi, the inconvenient older optics were now considered spiffy and upper-crust.

So, you had your quizzing glass. 
This was a single, hand-held lens, like a magnifying glass. 

Single lenses that you held had long since been replaced by spectacles for everyday use.  Round about 1790 the French, as the French will, turned this passe object into a fashion accessory.  If you needed glasses, or even if you didn't, you could walk around with a quizzing glass handy, maybe hanging it on a long chain worn around the neck. The you whipped it out to inspect something.
Fashionably.

 
The double-barreled version of the quizzing glass was the lorgnette, which is sort of glasses-on-a-stick.  Like the quizzing glass, the lorgnette was a decorative social prop, capable of depressing pretension all the way across the ballroom. 

The word lorgnette, you will be pleased to know, comes from the French lorgner, 'to peer at', from Middle French lorgne, 'squint'.  The French, being contrary, call this instrument a face-a-main — a 'face-to-hand' — and then use the French word lorgnette to mean, not that, but a quizzing glass or small telescope.
The word English word 'lorgnette' appears in 1803 so you should probably not have your character raise her lorgnette to intimidate an encroaching mushroom before that.  Unless she is French.  In which case she is talking about a quizzing glass. 
Life is complex.

One thing you notice, when you're looking at paintings of Georgian and Regency crowd scenes, is how few people are wearing glasses.  When you do see glasses in a crowd, they're generally perched on the nose of a plump parson or peering, bent old woman.  I set aside the possibilities of Eighteenth Century Lasik surgery, contact lenses, and a general eagle-eyed-ness in the population and ask myself why.


Regency Romances portray glasses as a bit fuddy-duddy.  Our Regency heroines hide their spectacles in their reticules (and our Regency heroes have better eyesight than the average squad of fighter pilots.)  This is a Regency Romance convention that seems to have good evidence on its side. 

Nimrud stone and quizzling glass attrib British Museum. Scissor glasses and lorgnette attrib The Met. Pectoral of Senusret cc attrib John Compana. Glasses with wig points and glasses with loops Museum of Vision by permission. Spectacles and case attrib V&A.
 
 
So.  Thinking about the impact of eyeglasses on the world . . .  Imagine a life with no eyeglasses, and you with not-so-good eyes.  What would you miss most?
One lucky commenter will win a still-fairly-hot-off-the-presses copy of Black Hawk.

Of Schools and rules and uniforms...

Anne here, talking about schools and rules and uniforms.I've always worn a uniform to school, ever since my first year at school. It's standard practice here — and in the UK. That's me in the group on the right, the year we lived in Scotland. I was eight. (I'm in the middle of the second front row, next to the girl in the dark tunic.)

A friend of mine has been discussing school rules with her young teen daughter. She (the daughter) recently received a detention because... well, this is how she answered the punishment sheet when asked, Which rule did you break? 
She answered: I was wearing two small parts of my hair out.

 Why did you choose to disregard the school rule?
I don't know, really.

We have school rules so the school community will operate smoothly.
Yes we do need rules but some of them are too strict. I don't think they should have the rule in the first place - how is wearing my hair in the way I want it going to disrupt my learning?

What changes will people around you start to notice if you abide by rules?
That my hair is off my face

 I had to laugh.  It seems very little has changed since I was a schoolgirl many years ago. Or indeed, since my mother was a schoolgirl — that's her on the left with the long plaits.

The two high schools I attended had the same very strict rules about hair and uniforms. Most schools in Australia — government and private —have uniforms, and one of the rules at my school — and that of my friend's daughter — was that if hair (for girls or boys) touched the collar, it was to be tied back. So all the girls had tiny pigtails, some really tiny — an inch or so long.
And we all thought it was ridiculous.

Uniform rules were also strict. I got busted once in year eight for being out of uniform — I was spending the night at my married sister's house and had gone straight from my suburban high school to the central city library where she worked and was helping out in the library until she finished work. They needed milk for coffee, so I ran around the corner to buy some and was caught — at 6.15 pm — in uniform but not wearing my hat and gloves. So the next week I had detention.

And when we moved to the city and I went to a different school, I used to meet my brother after school at the university across the road so we could drive home together and he used to tell me to "lose the lid" — ie take off my bottle green school hat, which was mega uncool. I did, but I kept a wary eye out in case I was caught.

At various times in various schools, there are debates about the wearing of school uniforms — occasionally about whether school uniform should be compulsory or not, but mostly the debate is about how strictly the uniform rules should be enforced. 

As a young teacher at inner suburban government high schools I was supposed to discipline  students for not wearing full uniform, sending boys home for not wearing a tie in summer, and girls for wearing white socks with their summer uniform instead of the official  brown ones. I never could see the point in sending children home because of their socks or ties.

It took me a while, as a young teacher, to understand that strict uniform rules were not so much valuable in themselves and were not even really about the uniform, but were more a symbol of school discipline. If uniform rules were strictly enforced, the school had a reputation as "a good school."  But it still went against the grain to me to be spending so much time fussing over petty rules and regulations.

Uniforms have long been a way of identifying the students who go to a particular school.  Here are schoolboys heading off by train to attend Eton school in England in 1937. Very much being branded as young gentlemen.

And these days here and in the UK and in many parts of the world, a school uniform is standard wear for all school children. I well remember seeing the kids in Malaysia emerging from poor kampongs (villages) with limited facilities yet proudly dressed for school in gleaming, beautifully pressed white uniforms. And I love the look of Japanese schoolchildren in their cute sailor suits.

So I must admit, it was rather a nice surprise to see that some things hadn't changed all that much, that my friend's young daughter is being disciplined for the exact same sort of infringements as I was as a girl — and for that matter, my mother — that no matter how much we think the world has changed, some things haven't — not the schools who enforce the rules, nor the kids who mutter about them. 

What about you? Did you ever wear a uniform to school? Ever get busted? Do your kids wear uniforms? Do you like the idea of school uniforms or not? And what rules did you break when you were at school?

 

Scottish Settings with Christina Courtenay!

Today it is my very great pleasure to welcome back to the blog Honorary Word Wench Christina Courtenay! Christina is the award winning author of wonderful historical fiction and today she is joining me to talk about her latest novel Highland Storms and her love of Scotland. As I have recently returned from a trip to the Highlands and the Scottish Borders this was a very popular topic with me and I hope with lots of other Wench readers too.

"The world is full of romantic settings, but I think for me the absolute favourite has to be the Scottish Highlands.

Being half Swedish, I ought to enthuse about the Scandinavian forests and lakes, the midnight sun and the aurora borealis of course, but although these are lovely too, I’m even more drawn to the lochs and craggy hillsides of the Highlands.  I really can’t explain it, but every time I go there I just feel as if the landscape pulls me in and casts some kind of spell on me.  It’s steeped in history in a way that’s hard to pinpoint, and when the mists hang over the glens or the sun illuminates the heather, I fall in love, completely and utterly.

I take every opportunity I can to visit and the last time I was there I drove around scouting for locations in which to set my latest novel Highland Storms.  I have to say I was spoiled for choice.  First, I needed a castle (as you do) and visited several to see which one I liked best.  In the end I couldn’t decide on just one so I made my fictional one an amalgamation of them all.  The setting of Eilean Donan, for instance, on a tiny island/peninsula sticking out into a loch was perfect, as was the craggy exterior.  The inside of other castles seemed more suitable though as sadly Eilean Donan doesn’t have its original interior, having been reconstructed in the early 20^th century.  Culcreuch Castle, which is now a hotel, had extremely thick (twelve foot?) walls – essential to my plot – and the views over Loch Ness from Castle Urquhart are superb, exactly what I wanted.  The area around Loch Leven provided me with even more inspiration (as well as a chance to test how cold the water was!).  Of course, wherever you go in the Highlands, you are bombarded with sights that set your mind turning.  Even my younger daughter, who normally finds landscapes and sight-seeing boring, was hanging out of the car window exclaiming in awe at every new vista that opened up before us.  I had to agree and I could totally understand why the people who were forced to emigrate never forgot their beautiful homeland.

On a practical level, visiting the Highland Folk Museum at Newtonmore near Kingussie (and isn’t that a lovely name?!) proved the most rewarding for me.  There, I had the chance to see for myself what an old Highland dwelling looked like and how it was built using materials available locally – stone, timber, turf and heather.  I was also able to experience what it felt like to be inside one.  I sat next to a peat fire, breathing in the scent of wood smoke (which also stayed in my hair and clothes afterwards – and how!), my eyes had to adjust to the gloom, and I imagined what it must have been like to huddle in there by the meager fire on a cold and wet autumn evening.  With a few cows at one end in a byre, and the hut crammed with people, it was probably a lot warmer than just being on my own in there and quite cosy.  Sitting on tiny stools round the fire you escape the worst of the smoke, which rises and seeps out through the thatch in the roof.  A cauldron hanging over the hearth would spread the appetizing aroma of nettle soup or beef broth and I saw how bannocks would have been cooked on a griddle.  It was all very simple, but since the inhabitants spent most of their time outdoors and had very few possessions, all they needed was warmth and shelter for the night.  It was perfect!

This outdoor folk museum contained lots of different dwellings, a larger one for the tacksman – the most important man of the township (village) – and smaller ones for the cottars and for craftsmen such as the weaver.  I was surprised to find that weavers were most often men who went from village to village, being employed to make cloth out of the supply of wool created by the women during the year.  I suppose the women were too busy with other things most of the time as the inhabitants would have been largely self-sufficient – it was definitely a hard life!

Near the township was a reconstructed shieling hut.  The shielings, as you probably know, were the summer pasture grounds high up on the hillsides, where at least half the village spent a few months while the cattle grazed and grew fat.  I needed a shieling hut for the plot of my story and if I hadn’t seen one with my own eyes and gone inside I wouldn’t have known that my six-foot-plus hero would have to stand bent over inside as well, not just in the very low doorway.  Not to mention having to sleep curled up, which wouldn’t be very comfortable - the sleeping platform was too short even for me and I’m only 5 foot 3 on a good day!

Another open air museum in Auchindrain (again, such a lovely evocative name!) near Inveraray gave me further inspiration, even though the buildings there were of a later date than my story.  When I visited, a wet mist hung all around the fields and hills nearby and the moisture in the air really felt as though it was seeping into my very bones.  All the houses were damp inside and I realized that a peat fire wouldn’t have stood much chance in conditions like that.  No wonder Highlanders were said to be used to being wet and not mind it!

I could go on, but instead I’d love for you to tell me which is the most romantic setting in the world for you?  I look forward to reading about them! One commenter between now and midnight Tuesday will win a copy of Highland Storms.

Thank you very much, Christina, for a peek into your research and your inspiration. I do agree that Eilean Donan Castle has to be one of the most wonderful settings for a castle anywhere in the world. I'm looking forward to hearing about the other places people think are equally romantic!

Highland Storms, ISBN: 978-1-906931-71-1, is published by Choc Lit 1^st November 2011 and is available from http://amzn.to/vuef8C

Here is an extract:

Who can you trust?

Betrayed by his brother and his childhood love, Brice Kinross needs a fresh start. So he welcomes the opportunity to leave Sweden for the Scottish Highlands to take over the family estate.

But there’s trouble afoot at Rosyth in 1754 and Brice finds himself unwelcome. The estate is in ruin and money is disappearing.  He discovers an ally in Marsaili Buchanan, the beautiful redheaded housekeeper, but can he trust her?

Marsaili is determined to build a good life. She works hard at being housekeeper and harder still at avoiding men who want to take advantage of her.  But she’s irresistibly drawn to the new clan chief, even though he’s made it plain he doesn’t want to be shackled to anyone.

And the young laird has more than romance on his mind. His investigations are stirring up an enemy.  Someone who will stop at nothing to get what he wants – including Marsaili – even if that means destroying Brice’s life forever …

There is a link to an excerpt here - http://bit.ly/svPrBg

 Christina's website is at: www.christinacourtenay.com 

Guest Christina Courtenay

Tomorrow Nicola Cornick welcomes back Honorary Word Wench Christina Courtenay.  Christina writes historical romance with a trace of the Far East, but tomorrow she will talk about the lure of Scotland as a setting for historical romance.  Please join us Monday, December 12, and find out why Scotland has endured as a popular venue for historical romances.

Kill or Cure

Hi, here's Jo. I'm late today because I'm a little bit ill and had a doctor's appointment. (Billy and Charlie are trying to do some work for me.) If I'd been weller I'd have had the gumption to do the blog last night! I'm generally very robust, and when I get ill I'm reminded to be very grateful to live today with so much excellent health care available.

Treatments in the past could be brutal, which might not have been so bad if they were effective. Many believe that Charles II died prematurely because of the violent "cures" applied and that Princess Charlotte's death in childbed could be put to tde account of her meddling doctor.

Browsing the annals of the Royal Society in the 18th century -- Isn't the internet wonderful! -- I came across an account of a 12 year old girl in an orphanage who got what seemed to be lock-jaw. It's clear that the name tetanus was still not in common use. To keep her alive they had to remove two teeth in order to feed her, which though unfortunate was doubtless a good idea. Beyond that, they couldn't help as her body gradually stiffened and contorted. They tried, though, and again perhaps we shouldn't criticize, but the poor child endured purging, blood-letting and blistering without any improvement and was wasting away.

There is a happy ending, however. The 1760s was the beginning of practical exploration of electricity and a doctor interested in that decided to apply electricity to the girl. Slowly, she was released from the tetanus and soon she was completely restored to health.

You can visit the Royal Society's site here. That page is about a new exhibition of 17th century books and you can click on them to learn more.

For obvious reasons most of us avoid realistic medical treatment in our historical novels, and I'm no exception. Would you like to see more of it? Would you like to see doctors as heroes? Somehow with heroines they're generally gentle herbal healers, which tends to ignore that a good part of a herbalist's trade would be in abortifacients and purges. People in the past were great believers in getting rid of disease by bleeding, sweating, and purging.

BTW, cupping wasn't blood letting as such but a method of drawing blood and fluids out through the skin, taking any toxins with them, short term results shown on the right. If you want to know more, or even have it done, check out here.

What's the most memorable medical scene you remember from a historical romance? One commenter will received a copy of a Christmas collection that includes my novella The Wise Virgin, which begins with the memorable line, "They've stolen the Blessed Virgin Mary!"

Cheers,

Jo

 

 

 

Queen Margaret's Video

The trade paperback of Queen Hereafter is available in bookstores and online today from Random House and Broadway Books! There's a beautiful book trailer to accompany the book's release -- and I'm delighted to bring you a conversation with Jim Lefter, who created the video.

A few months ago I was talking to Jim, a friend and video producer, about books and ways to promote a new release. He asked if I had ever tried a book trailer. I hadn’t, but I love them--I'm very visual and they can quickly draw me into a story and catch my interest.

Jim offered to do a video for Queen Hereafter, and I was ready to try something new — so we set out on a creative adventure. Jim Lefter is a video producer with twenty years’ experience doing video and television work for Discovery Network and A & E among other production houses. He now does freelance projects through his own company, Cosmic Stuff Media. Recently we chatted about the experience of creating Queen Margaret's video (this medieval lady has a gospel, a chapel, a reliquary, a loch, a bay, a book - and now her own video!).

But first – click here to watch it on YouTube: Queen Hereafter Book Trailer!

Susan: Hi Jim, welcome to Word Wenches! Can you tell us about the starting point for a book trailer?

Jim: The book! I like to have a good knowledge of the book and a feel for the story, so first I read the book. I love reading, so no hardship there.

Susan: Do you prefer to collaborate, or do you produce what you think works best and then run it past the client?

Jim: It’s a collaborative process if the author wants that. I certainly enjoy that. The outcome is better if the author takes part in the process.

Susan: Could you tell us about the steps involved in creating a book trailer?

Jim: We start with a script -- the foundation. I prefer that the author write it for an authentic voice, though I’m open to writing it myself. The script needs to capture the essence of a story in a few sentences -- and no one can get inside the story like the author can. And I like to work with a narrator. A voice reading the script carries the viewer into the story more than text onscreen can do. Video is a visual medium, and I want to paint the story in multimedia to evoke mood and tone.

Susan: Do you sometimes use text onscreen instead of narrative?

Jim: Text is appropriate sometimes. It depends on how it works with the story, whether it distracts or enhances, and what the author and I both think works best.

Susan: And after the script comes the image search.

Jim: Right. We discuss what images might work, and then scour the best stock photo houses, tailoring our ideas to what’s available. Great stock photos can be found at reasonable fees, and an image search might inspire new ideas for the trailer.

Susan: For the Queen Hereafter video, we both searched, emailing images back and forth and choosing. For example, Jim found photos of a guy in medieval armor who to me looked like a thug, but Jim liked his toughness for King Malcolm. Good point -- but then we found Jimmy Thomas. He’s more a romance hero sort than the real Malcolm Canmore — but what a great stand-in for a medieval Scottish king!

Jim: When a group of stock photos popped up showing a long-haired blond woman in a medieval gown in outdoor settings, we had our Queen Margaret. A variety of images of the same model is very useful. And finding images involves going back and forth, being particular. We looked for naturalness and authenticity, and for visually interesting images. We also used some of Susan’s own photos of Scotland.

Susan: What’s the next step after the images are selected?

Jim: Recording the narration is next. I often work with my wife, Anne, who is a great narrator. The right voice and a nuanced read is essential—the narrator is an artist who portrays what we envision.

Susan: We auditioned a few narrators, but I loved Anne’s warm, rich voice and her natural reading the best! After selecting the images and recording the script with a narrator, what do you work on next?

Jim: Music – and that can be the most difficult part of the process. I want to find a sound to match the story and tone. Searching stock music clips – much of which are quite good – takes longer than image searches. Music by the original artists is not always available, but it can be a great element in a video. Susan was able to get permission from Scottish singer/songerwriter Dougie MacLean for his song “The Search," which adds a richness and elegance to the Queen Hereafter trailer.

Once the music is decided, I edit the images to fit the rhythms and pace of the song. The mood of the whole video really comes together at this point. As a producer, I do the editing and production, and I mostly act as a guide, helping to find and blend the elements to create a story. It’s important to communicate and to help the author discover what they want. Using various software, I create a rough cut and run that past the author.

Susan: The Queen Hereafter video took only a couple of weeks or so. Jim worked so efficiently and with real artistry, and has an infallible sense of what works. I was thrilled the first time I saw the rough cut!

Jim: This has been a wonderful collaborative process, with give and take and great communication. My goal as a producer is to create a visual production that is high quality and really enjoyable. And I want the client to be happy with the process as well as the result.

Susan: Even though I changed my mind a lot, you were patient, amiable, and always creative throughout. Thank you!

We had so much fun making this video that Jim and I are now collaborating on a book trailer for Lady Macbeth, and I can tell you that his work in this one is stunning. We'll debut it soon on Word Wenches!

Meanwhile, I hope you all enjoy the Queen Hereafter video -– please share, like, tweet and send to your friends! (If you are interested in talking to Jim about a book trailer of your own, you can contact him at jlefter2@gmail.com.)

Be sure to look for Queen Hereafter in trade paperback and ebook as well.

And speaking of multimedia ... Queen Hereafter is now available in audiobook from Audible.com! Click here to listen to an audio sample.

What do you think of book trailers? Leave a comment below to be entered in a giveaway: an autographed set of paperback copies of Lady Macbeth and Queen Hereafter!

 

Cooking Up A New Historical Mystery

  Cara/Andrea here, wearing my “Mystery” hat today (decorated with gaily wrapped Holiday chocolates) as I celebrate the release this week of the second book in my Regency-set Lady Arianna historical mystery series. December is actually a perfect month for it, because eating, drinking, dancing and partying—all to lavish excess—play a prominent role in the plot.

It all starts with chocolate—my hero and heroine possess a number of unconventional talents, including an expertise in Theobroma cacao. So when Arianna spots a rare book of botanical engravings on the subject in a fancy London bookshop, she decides to purchase it for her new husband, the Earl of Saybrook. The trouble is, someone else is equally determined to possess it and she must fight him off (luckily she knows some very unladylike moves from her rough-and-tumble childhood.)

The episode is forgotten, until she and Saybrook are invited to attend a country house party for an elite group of international diplomats, where she is shocked to discover that her erstwhile assailant is one of the guests. But even more ominous is the discovery that the chocolate book contains hidden documents that implicate someone near and dear to them in a plot to betray Great Britain at the upcoming Congress of Vienna. To find the real culprit, they must travel to Austria, where rulers of Europe—along with the crème de la crème of high society—have gathered to make peace . . . and make love, not necessarily in that order. And so, amid the swirl of lavish entertainments, opulent balls and sumptuous suppers, their sleuthing talents are put to the supreme test.

One of the fun things about writing the book was adding some of the real life people who attended the Conference as “color” characters. And trust me, they were colorful indeed! Metternich, Talleyrand, Alexander I of Russia—a writer would be hard-pressed to make up more flamboyant personalities. So they play a role in the story. But so does an even more delicious historical figure.

Marie Antoine Carême served as the personal chef to Talleyrand, the charismatic French Foreign Minister, during the time period of my story . . . now forget Bobby Flay and Gordon Ramsay—Carême was the first celebrity chef, and in his astounding career, he cooked not only for Talleyrand but also for Napoleon, the Prince Regent, Tsar Alexander and the Rothschild family. Known as the Chef of Kings, (and the King of Chefs) he revolutionized many elements of haute cuisine, but he is perhaps best known for his amazing skills with pastries. So how could I resist having him and Arianna cross cooking spoons! 

The heat is on . . . but I’ll leave you to discover the details of my story on your own. Right now, let me give you a little taste of the real-life adventures of Marie Antoine Carême.

Carême was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth. One of many children, he was, at age ten, abandoned by his family in revolutionary Paris during the tumultuous days of 1793. He was taken in by the owner of a cheap chophouse, where he was put to work in the kitchen. In 1794, Carême was apprenticed to a well-known pâtissier, whose shop was located close to the Palais-Royal . . .and it was here that his genius began to soar!

Pastry shops at the time featured elaborate display windows to attract their clientele, so fanciful creations would be made out of spun sugar, almond paste and dough. Now, Carême was a quiet, serious boy who spent his free time in the Bibliothèque Nationale, where he was fascinated by the architectural books showing ancient ruins, classical monuments and famous buildings. He began to copy these structures out of confectionary materials, creating what came to be known as his signature “Pièces Montées.” Pyramids, castles, cathedral—his art quickly became famous throughout the city and attracted the eye of a notable gourmand—Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord.

A lover of fine wine, sublime food and beautiful women, Talleyrand commissioned the young Carême to create centerpieces for a number of his lavish parties. Impressed with his skills, he offered him employment at his Chateau Valencay, which was purchased with government funds so that Talleyrand could entertain diplomats and VIPs in proper French style. (Napoleon was famous for his utter disinterest in food, but he was savvy enough to know that sumptuous meals were an important weapon in winning allies around the Continent.)

But first, Talleyrand challenged Carême to come up with a full year’s menu using only seasonal produce. The chef succeeded, and voila—his career rose to even greater heights. Working for Talleyrand, he expanded his repertoire to all the different dishes served at a meal. In the course of honing his skills, he is credited with pioneering a number of innovations. The chef’s toque, and the serving of meals “a la Russe” (with each course brought to the table in succession, as we do today) instead of “a la Francaise” (where all the courses were set out at the beginning of a meal) are among his contributions to cuisine. He also wrote a number of cookbooks, including the multi-volume L’Art de la Cuisine Francais), which redefined haute cuisine.

Carême won further fame by creating a spectacular wedding cake for Napoleon and his new Austrian Empress. A year later he followed it up with a magnificent spun sugar creation for the christening of their infant son—a Venetian gondola crafted in sweet shades of celestial blue!

When Napoleon was forced to abdicate, Tsar Alexander of Russia entered Paris to be part of the diplomatic negotiations, and Talleyrand quickly invited him to stay at his palace on the rue St. Florentin. The Tsar  became so fond of Carême’s cooking that when he moved to the Elysee Palace, he asked to borrow the chef for the duration of his visit. (Carême created the now-famous dessert Charlotte Russe in honor of Alexander. Nesselrode Pudding—which became a favorite sweet of the Prince Regent, was named after the Russian Foreign Minister Karl von Nesselrode.)

The next King he served was the future George IV. After Waterloo, Prinny set out feelers to Paris, anxious to engage a top French chef for his own kitchens. Carême agreed to cross the Channel, and for a time cooked in London and the Prince’s Royal Pavilion at Brighton. (I find that a lovely pairing—the fanciful centerpieces gracing the tables of the fairytale Pavilion!) Prinny was said to have remarked that Carême’s luscious foods would be the death of him . . . to which Carême responded, “Your Highness, my concern is to tempt your appetite; yours is to curb it,”

Alas, Carême could not stomach the English weather and returned to France after several years . . . where Tsar Alexander promptly offered him a king’s ransom to come cook in St. Petersburg. That lasted only a short while (I assume the Russian winter was no more palatable than the English rain) and back he came to Paris, where he became the private chef to James Rothschild of the famous banking family.

Carême died at the age of 48, his lungs ruined by years of toiling over charcoal fires. But his legacy of culinary genius has inspired generations of chefs to be artists in the kitchen.

So what about you? Do you like to cook . . . especially pastries? Do you have a favorite sweet for the holidays? Please share! I’ll be giving away a copy of THE COCOA CONSPIRACY to one randomly chosen reader who leaves a comment here between now and Tuesday evening.

Winners!

WINNERS

We have another batch of winners!  Congratulations to the following book winners:  Rachel Grime and Lisa Hutson each won a book from Nicola. Malvina Yock won a book from guest Kerry Greenwood.  And last but not least, Gail Mallin won a book from Mary Jo.

HOLIDAY STOCKING STUFFERS

We have just the thing for you last-minute shoppers:  stocking stuffers!  Namely, some Wench classics, anthologies, and novellas in many formats, all of them suitable for tucking into those holiday stockings!  Just click the below links to do your shopping.  Season’s greetings and best wishes for a Happy New Year to one and all!

Three of Mary Jo Putney's classic Regency Christmas novellas are now available in e-book form as Christmas Mischief.  Happy holidays!

Nicola Cornick’s novella is “The Pirate’s Kiss” in the Christmas Wedding Belles anthology.

Patricia Rice’s Christmas Surprises anthology is available at Regency Reads.

Jo Beverley’s Winter Fire (Christmas at Rothgar Abbey!) is perfect for the holidays.

Susan King’s The Black Thorne's Rose (Author's Cut), is available in e-book for Kindle, Nook and other e-book venues.

Cara/Andrea’s first Regency, The Defiant Governess by Andrea Pickens is now available as an e-book at Regency Reads (all formats) and Amazon (Kindle).

Happy shopping and Happy Holidays!

Twins & Hellion: Dancing on the Wind

by Mary Jo

As I warned when I blogged about proofing two earlier books for e-editions, I find the process of rereading and returning to an earlier story makes me want to reminisce about research and how the story came about.

Dancing on the Wind was published third in my Fallen Angels series, but chronologically, it takes place second.  The book originally published second, Petals in the Storm, was a former Signet Regency that I was able to revise quickly and fit into the series, and the publisher wanted that.  Now that I'm e-pubbing the series, Petals is officially Fallen Angels #3 and DOTW is #2.  So no, I’m not e-publishing the series out of order. <G>

Very seldom is there one specific incident I can point to and say, “That’s the plot trigger!” but I can with Dancing on the Wind.  The hero, Lucien Fairchild, Earl of Strathmore, is a Regency spymaster who would now be considered an expert in counter-espionage—that is, catching the bad guys in Britain so they won’t pass information to the French.

Yes, spies in Regencies are a cliché (though rather less so when I wrote DTOW) but they’re such useful plot devices!  I loved Lucien, who is gorgeously blond, dangerous, and mysterious, but what was his story?  And who was his mate???

Inspiration:

I found out when I was watching a rerun of Star Trek: The Next Generation’s “Captain’s Holiday”episode, in which Captain Picard meets a charming and unreliable (but hot) archeological thief named Vash. 

Eureka!  Lucien’s story is about a sneaky man who meets a sneakier woman!  I love when a story manifests complete with a punchy tagline. <G>

Of course the core idea is just the spark.  An awful lot of scaffolding needs to be built around it to create a story.  Luckily, I had a thin and incredibly worn used book about the Hellfire Club.  Since DOTW was written pre-internet, I couldn’t do an easy search on line, but the book was full of glorious details that I used for my fictional Hellions Club, which is set several decades later than the original.

Boys will be boys:

Robes! Silly ceremony!  Orgies!  Obscene statues!  Ruined abbeys with underground chambers!  It was a veritable feast of material to build a story around. 

Lucien, who is the tight, controlled sort, has to investigate the Hellions because he believes that some of the aristocratic members are passing information to the French. But as he investigates the Hellions, he keeps meeting, and sometimes rescuing, a mysterious young woman of many names and disguises.  Who is she, and what the devil is she up to? 

She won’t tell him and she’s driving him crazy, but Lucien is very aware, in his controlled Regency way, that she is seriously hot.  (The image to the left of him wearing her was the original stepback.)

Twins:

The heroine, Kit Travers, is on a desperate mission to save the life of the person she loves most in the world: her twin sister. This gave me a wonderful change to research and write about a subject that has always fascinated me.  Among my cousins was a pair of identical twins, so I’d always wanted to write about two people who look so much alike, but are individuals with different souls and different goals despite their similarities. 

I’d always taken mental notes of interesting twin data, but for DOTW, I had the opportunity to interview at length the identical twin sisters of a bookseller friend of mine.  They were not only bright and articulate and very aware of the aspects of twindom, but they were also rather psychic, and some of the remarkable connections between my fictional twins were taken right from the real ones. 

For example, one of the real twins could walk into a store and know her sister had been in earlier that day.  They could lend energy to each other.  Sometimea Twin A would have to call Twin B and say, “I need more energy today so don’t try drawing on mine.” 

The more extroverted twin was a better transmitter between them, the more introverted one was a better receiver.  Amazing stuff—so if you read it in the book, no, I didn’t make it up. <G>

Here’s a Dancing on the Wind excerpt of one of the first times Lucien meets his woman of mystery.  He’s been at a tavern during a Hellion meeting, trying to ingratiate himself with the leader so he’ll be invited to join.  And there’s this barmaid he’d been noticing…

    By one in the morning, most of the Hellions had left and Lucien was thinking that it was time to go home himself. Then he saw the most vocal of Sally'syouthful admirers, Lord Ives, lurch to his feet and purposefully follow the barmaid out of the room. Though she seemed quite capable of taking care of herself, Lucien was unable to suppress his protective instincts. After saying good night to those of his companions who were still awake, he rose and quietly followed Sally and Ives.
    The old tavern was a maze of flagstoned passages. Briskly the barmaid went down one, heels tapping, and turned left, then left again, ending in a storeroom half filled with kegs. Apparently unaware that Ives was close behind her, she set her candle on a keg, then stooped to draw off a pitcher of ale.
    Lucien paused in the shadowed passage. If his assistance wasn't needed, he would fade away. It would be bad for his pose as a rake if he kept defending beleaguered damsels, and where the Hellions went, damsels were beleaguered regularly.
    As the barmaid straightened, Ives asked in a slurred voice, "If you won't run off with me, pretty Sally, will you at least give me a quick tumble before I go home?"
    She started, the ale sloshing from her pitcher, then said good-naturedly, "Even if I was willing, which I'm not, I doubt you'd be much use to me, lad. Alcohol may increase the desire, but it takes away the ability."
    Lucien was startled to hear a Shakespearean quote from a barmaid. Still, there was no reason why Sally shouldn't enjoy the Bard as much as an aristocrat.
    Less literary, Ives said, "If you doubt my ability, try me and I'll prove otherwise."
    Her carroty curls bobbed as she shook her head. "My man is called Killer Caine, and he wouldn't like it one bit if I spread myself around." She gave Ives a playful push. "You go home to your bed, lad, and sleep off the punch alone."
    "Give me a kiss, then. Just a kiss."  Before she could reply, he pulled her into an embrace, his mouth crushing hers and one hand squeezing her bounteous breast. Lucien guessed that Ives meant no real harm, but in his drunkenness he didn't realize his own strength, or notice that the woman was struggling to escape. Unpleasantly reminded of the chambermaid at Bourne Castle, Lucien decided to intervene.
    He started forward, but before he could enter the storeroom, Sally stamped hard on her admirer's foot.
    "Ouch!" Ives yelped and raised his head. Keeping his hand on her breast, he asked reproachfully, "Why did you do that?"
    "To get rid of you, lad," Sally said breathlessly.
    "Don't go," he pleaded, his hand kneading the ripe globe that filled his palm.
    She shoved against his chest and managed to break his hold. Before he could embrace her again, she snapped, "'Tisn't me you want, it's these."
    Reaching into her bodice, she wrenched out an enormous bust improver and threw it into her assailant's face. "Have a good time, lad."
    Ives released Sally and rocked back on his heels as the soft, pillow-like object bounced off his nose and fell to the floor. After staring in befuddlement at the undulating cotton curves, he raised his gaze to the barmaid. The folds of her bodice now fell loosely over a chest of modest dimensions.
    To his credit, the young man began laughing. "You're a false-hearted woman, Sally."
     "It's not me heart that's false," she said pertly. "Now get along with you so I can do my work."
    "I'm sorry—I behaved badly," he said. "Will you be here next time the Hellions meet?"
    She shrugged. "Maybe yes, and maybe no."
    Blowing her a kiss, Ives left the storeroom by the other door, which led toward the front of the tavern. Sally was watching him go when she heard Lucien's chuckle. She jumped, then spun and spotted him in the shadows. "If it isn't old Lucifer himself," she said waspishly. "Did you enjoy the show?"
    "Immensely." He moved forward into the storeroom. "I had thought you might need help, but obviously I was mistaken."
    "Lucifer to the rescue?" she said with heavy sarcasm. "And 'ere I thought you wanted a piece of my padded arse."

Bits and Pieces:

**The title, Dancing on the Wind, is a period euphemism for being hanged and is a good description of the peril both characters are in.

**I chose Lucien’s title, Lord Strathmore, because back in my designer days, I’d sometimes ordered Strathmore paper for different design projects and I liked the name.  It wasn’t until much later that I realized that there is a real earldom of Strathmore in Scotland, and that the Queen Mother was a daughter of an Earl of Strathmore.  Oh, well.

**If you're wondering why most of Lucien's head is cut off in the gorgeous new e-book cover by Kim Killion, it's because blond male cover models are really hard to find, so off with his hair!

**The mechanical toys that are a plot thread were inspired by reading the title of a book on mechanical toys that was listed in the Hamilton remaindered book catalog.

**To my great delight, Dancing on the Wind won the RWA Rita for best long historical the year it came out.  Alas, the conference was in Hawaii so I wasn’t there.  But the golden girl herself is sitting on a bookcase watching me. <G>

I’ll give away a print copy of DOTW to someone who leaves a comment between now and midnight Saturday.  Do you have any more questions about the makings of the story?  I’ll be happy to answer them!

Mary Jo