Word Wenches

The Sounds of Silence

Anne here, pondering the meaning of silence in the modern world.

Today I had to catch a tram (trolleycar) into the city to meet with someone from my publishers. It's a fifteen minute journey, not a long commute at all. It makes frequent stops, and since most of the journey is inner city and through popular shopping areas, there's a lot of getting on and off.

And yet most of the people sitting  around me wore earplugs of various kinds in their ears — mobile phone (cell-phone) earplugs, i-pods, whatever. The few who didn't wear earplugs were busily texting or talking on their mobiles. Loudly — the talking, not the texting. There were even three young boys, all wearing earplugs playing loud music, who also had a conversation at the same time — loud, because they couldn't hear over the music otherwise. 

I sat there, watching and listening, and it occurred to me to wonder how often people  experience quietness, how often they are simply alone with their thoughts.

I thought about how frequently I see walkers and joggers and all kinds of exercisers wearing earplugs — some even walk their dogs wearing earplugs — the people, not the dogs. I've even noticed cyclists wearing earplugs, which I think is pretty dangerous, hearing being a good warning device.

I don't understand it. I don't know if I'm simply old-fashioned, or out of touch, or whether it's a writer thing, but I love being alone with my thoughts, yet in the world. 

I see people all the time walking along the creek, oblivious to the twitter of the birds, the honk of a duck, the song of frogs, the rustle of the leaves by the evening breeze —  it's all blocked out by the doof doof sound of music in their ears. And it's often so loud that I can hear it from six feet away. 

But for me, that half hour of interaction with the natural world, my dusk walk along the creek— a band of "wilderness" that runs for miles —  breathing the air, hearing the twilight sounds of birds and bats and small critters, feeling the breeze on my face and hearing the wind rustle the leaves overhead and the reeds and long grass that edge the creek — all that adds to the peace that comes from my evening walk.

Sometimes on that walk I'll come up with a scene for a book, or sort out a knotty problem, but more often I'll just "be" in the moment of the walk. 

Not that the sound of nature is invariably peaceful. Anyone who has cicadas in their area knows that. And a friend who was so delighted when her husband and sons built her a frog pond, and who celebrated the birth of a thousand tadpoles, quickly changed her mind when those taddies grew up and found their froggy voices. 

And I recently spent a week in a place where hundreds of rainbow lorikeets came to roost in the trees at night and they chattered so loudly that we had to shut the windows to hear ourselves talk. They quietened down after a few hours. But those of us foolish enough to sleep with our windows open, wafting off to dreamland to the peaceful sound of the ocean, were rudely awakened well before dawn by hundreds of lorikeets chattering and shrieking with excitement as they greeted the day. If you want to see and hear rainbow lorikeets in the wild, there's a video here. Multiply the sound by a thousand.

Even so, I couldn't imagine going out for a walk or a run and blocking out all the natural noises with loud music. Not even quiet music. I adore music, but I don't crave it all the time, a constant background to everything I do. Nor do I have the radio or TV on unless I'm actually listening or watching it. I love audio books, but I'm not sure I'd want to listen to them while I'm walking. On an exercise machine, possibly yes, outside near the creek or by the beach, no.

I hate sitting in waiting rooms where there's a TV blaring, or muzak playing. On planes, trains and automobiles, I might listen to an i-pod or audio book, or watch a movie, or read a book, but I'm also just as likely to stare out the window and think. Being alone with my thoughts. Pondering. Being in the moment. Daydreaming.

I'm wondering whether that's becoming a lost art. 

It's a pity, I think. Loud and constant noise is said to be stressful on the human nervous system, but we seem to have forgotten that. The desire to block out the rest of the world with noise of your choice — or someone else's — is increasing all the time.

Many people have the TV or radio on all their waking hours. Some can't go to sleep without noise of some sort playing, whether it's music or the TV or something else. I know people who habitually go to bed with their phones plugged into their ear, and are lulled to sleep listening to some ambient electronic sound, instead of the "real" sounds around them. It seems to me they're disconnecting themselves from the real world, and it worries me, though I can't put a finger on why.  It's obviously a valid choice for them, and who am I to argue? It's not for me, though.

Time uninterrupted, being alone with my thoughts, simply "being in the moment" is, to me, precious. 

Some years back another author friend and I were invited to present a series of workshops at a week-long writers retreat in the mountains of North Queensland  —tropical rainforest — simply beautiful. This group went on a writing retreat every year, and one of their rules was no talking in the morning, no music or anything else, no human or artificial sound until the first workshop started at 9 am. Some of them rose early and meditated, others wrote or walked, and their communal breakfast was conducted in silence. 

It was amazingly powerful. And very special.

So what about you — are you in the "I love my i-pod" camp or do you relish silence when you can get it? Does the TV in waiting rooms entertain or annoy you? Do you jog or exercise to music or audio books, or to your own thoughts?  Do you live in a place where nature deafens you? Do you like to have music or the Tv on all the time? And what do you do on public transport? ;) Share your stories.

Neighbourhood

Nicola here. A week or so ago we Wenches were chatting about history and the way that places change through time. Shops and houses come and go, building change their purpose. It made me think about my own neighbourhood and what has changed in the time that we have lived here. So I thought I would share some stories about the place where I live, a bit about its history and the changes that have occurred through time.

I live in the south of England in a tiny hamlet near a larger village on the Lambourn Downs. The first written record of my village in history comes from a Saxon Charter of AD 840 in which Ethelwulf, King of the West Saxons, granted land for a manor here to one of his followers. In the Domesday Book of AD 1086 the village was recorded as having two water mills and a church, signs of a thriving settlement. The water mills were powered by the springs that flowed down from the chalk hills to the south. These mills probably ground corn for the local population to make bread but they may also have been used for timber cutting (we know that a saw-yard was established in the village in the medieval period) and possibly even to power a forge. At this time it was the English monasteries that were the most technologically advanced places and it was the church that owned the manor here up until the Dissolution of the Monasteries in the 16^th century. There was certainly a blacksmith's forge here from the 15th century as the Roman road that passes through the village was an important thoroughfare. This is the forge today.

These days there are still two mill houses in the village, Upper and Lower Mill. These are buildings on the site of previous mills that date back to Norman times. Their function has changed though. Although Lower Mill House still has its 18^th century wheel, as you can see in the picture at the top of the blog, and Upper Mill was rebuilt in 1792 according to this plaque, both of them are now houses not working buildings. In fact they have been transformed into some of the most desirable properties in the village.

The Manor House itself, dating from the 15^th century and pictured below, has also changed in function. It used to be the monastery guest-house for travellers from Glastonbury Abbey in the south west on their pilgrimage to Oxford and Canterbury in the east. Now it too is a beautiful home. Many of the cottages that were built for workers on the estate have been gentrified with modern interiors beneath their thatched roofs. I set one of my early books, The Larkswood Legacy, in this village, using a local house as inspiration for the Larkswood of the story.

One house standing all on its own on the outskirts of the village is the medieval Pest House. This was built as an isolation hospital for patients suffering from leprosy and other communicable diseases. It originally belonged to the Abbey and was run by the monks. Like many other houses in the village it has been transformed into a beautiful country cottage and in recent times has been rented by a film star seeking some rural peace and quiet!

If we skip forward to the Regency and Georgian period there was plenty going on in the village. A “charity school” was established in the early 18^th century to educate the poor.  The very first Sunday school in the UK was set up here in 1777. The village sent men to fight in the Napoleonic Wars and one villager was a sailor who died at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805. During this period there were watercress beds to the south of the manor where cress was grown commercially and sold at market in the local towns. These markets are still held on Saturdays in the same towns that hosted them in the Middle Ages. Some things don’t change.

Some things do change, though. In the 19^th century the village was a hive of industry with shops and small businesses. These included a haberdasher, a shoemaker, a carpenter, two wheelwrights, a baker and grocer, and even a greyhound trainer! There was a reading room and a library. The local grocer’s shop also served as the Post Office, and this role continued up until a few years ago when both shop and post office were closed because it was no longer economically viable to keep the service going. Nowadays we have a travelling library visiting every two weeks and some different small businesses have grown up. One is a chocolatier so it’s not all bad!

With the plentiful supply of water here, there was also a malt house making beer. Often these breweries were run by the local innkeeper. Which brings me to the local pub. The Rose and Crown, which is now a pub, hotel and restaurant, was once a coaching inn and dates from the 16^th century. It was established during the reign of Henry VIII and the sign featuring the Tudor rose and a crown indicates loyalty to the monarch and to England. You can see in the photograph where the original gateway for coaches has now become a window. Public houses are in decline in Britain now as a result of high taxes on alcohol and changes in the way that people enjoy their leisure time. It’s no longer as popular to spend your evenings in a smoky pub drinking a pint of warm beer and chatting to the neighbours.

Back in the Regency period, tourism became popular in these parts. The Stone Age long barrow of Wayland’s Smithy was excavated by an antiquarian and turned into a beauty spot to take advantage of the popularity of romantic looking ruins with a mysterious history. Trees were planted around the barrow and people would travel by carriage to enjoy picnics there. These days walkers and cyclists along the ancient track, The Ridgeway, do exactly the same thing.

Sometimes things go full circle. The Red Kite, a bird of prey, disappeared from English cities and countryside in the nineteenth century, hunted to extinction. Prior to this it had been a common sight even in the streets of London, swooping down to take carrion. Kites reintroduced from Wales during the 20^th century have spread so successfully that they are now a common sight in the skies here again.

What is your neighbourhood like? What do you like about it and how has it changed in the time you have lived there? 

Georgian reading

The Marquess of Rothgar was, of course, very interested in science and engineering, and so he would be reading the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society, which was first published in 1665. The word "philosophical" might mislead. It referred to "natural philosophy" which is what we now would call science.

This link will take you to content from 1765, round about the time of the current Malloren books.

The thing I love about this Enlightenment age is the keen desire for knowledge on all matters. This is a partial list of the contents and I've poked into a few to see what was there. You can click on them to read more.

CHINESE PHESANT XIV
CHELSEA GARDENS XV
BUOYANCY OF CORK XVI
ERGOT OF RYE XVII
HEAT XVIII
VOIDED STONE XIX
ASTRONOMICAL XX
HYDROPHOBIA XXI
TWO THEOREMS XXII
EVAPORATION XXIII
METEOROLOGICAL XXIV
SMALL POX XXIV

(This is a statistical account of the beneficial results of innoculation in parts of the American colonies.)
WOOL MANUFACTURE XXV

(A better way to weigh skeins of wool.)
AIR IN WATER XXVI
SALT ON WOUNDS XXVII

(Rattlesnake victims cured by sea salt. Could be of use in someone's novel!)
MICROSCOPES XXVIII
GREEN HEMLOCK XXIX
LIGHTNING XXX
(An account of a thunderstorm in Oxford, in which the lighting was red and people felt heat from it. It seems almost supernatural, and could form an interesting element to a paranormal historical. Some war between mages?)

In another issue I found An Account of the Success of the Bark of the Willow in the Cure of Agues.

In other words -- what we now know as aspirin or acetylsalicylic acid and its effects on pain.

Do you like to think that the heroes of Georgian romances were probably enjoying such publications and even contributing to them, or does it seem to geeky?

Jo

Julie Cohen - Honorary Word Wench!

As Word Wench readers will know, it is our custom to give virtual gifts to our guests as a thank you for visiting the Wenches. Today I would like to thank Julie Cohen for joining us here on the blog a couple of weeks ago and confer upon her the title of Honorary Word Wench with all its ancient rights and privileges. On behalf of all the Wenches I would also like to give Julie a virtual gift of this beautiful Regency bookcase, originally from Ashdown House, in which to keep all her treasured Regency romances and her own wonderful books. Hopefully it will also remind her of the fun to be had as a re-enactor in a stately home!

This particular bookcase was brought back to England by a gentleman who found it in Florence during his Grand Tour at the beginning of the 19^th century. It is made of laburnum and inlaid with beautiful images of birds and flowers in semi-precious stones. Julie, we hope that you enjoy your virtual gift. Thank you very much for visiting the Word Wenches!

The Return of The Rake

by Mary Jo

A frequent interview question for authors is to name our favorite among the books we’ve written.  I hate that question.  Sophy’s Choice! 

I usually reply that I love all my books and characters, or I couldn’t write about them.  This is entirely true. 

 

But if pressed, I will admit that the book that is closest to my heart is The Rake.  It’s a long book that was written in a mere four months (very fast for me), and which was created out of the visceral experience of alcoholism. 

Not my own—I come from generations of Yankee teetotalers.  Two glasses of wine a week is wild times for me.  But I knew an alcoholic.  (Doesn’t everyone?)  I observed the slippery slope as a social drinker comes to crave alcohol with increasing urgency until self-control crumbles and life becomes an ever more frightening downward spiral.

I also observed the difficulties of recovery, of attempts to moderate.  The temporary successes, the backsliding, and the growing desperation until the shattering of the soul that comes with hitting rock bottom.  And then the long, painful, and uncertain struggle toward recovery.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is the source material of The Rake.  The book itself grew from my very first Signet Regency.  In The Diabolical Baron, the hero is a reserved former army captain who is unsure if he wants to take on the vast responsibilities of the earldom he finds himself heir to. 

One of the reasons Richard decides to declare his identity and take on his heritage is his obnoxious cousin, Reginald Davenport, the heir presumptive to the earldom.  Reggie is a rude, ill-behaved jerk who has been hanging out on the town for years, waiting for his uncle to die so Reggie can inherit.

Reggie was invented as a foil for the noble, wounded, and conflicted Richard (clearly this hero archetype was in my mind right from the beginning <g>), but as characters do, he started to develop dimension.  At the end, he shows surprising grace in defeat. 

My critique partners loved Reggie and wanted to see more of him, but—well, he was an obnoxious jerk.  Then I realized that all his bad behavior came when he was drunk—which was more or less all the time. 

Inspiration struck. Regencies were full of hard drinking, womanizing rakes who never suffered any consequences.  I figured it was time someone wrote a book about consequences.  Having had the opportunity to observe the whole cycle of alcoholism and recovery close up, I had a pretty decent grasp of the subject—and off I went, illustrating that fools do indeed rush in where angels fear to tread. <G> 

Reggie's story begins his cousin gives him the estate where Reggie had been born—and which should have been Reggie’s if not for his uncle’s nasty machinations. Richard basically says, “Here’s an estate with a good income, sink or swim, you’ll get nothing more from me, and you might want to keep the steward, he’s very good.”

Except that the steward is a female working under her initials—and quite the surprise for Reggie when he returns to Strickland!  Alys Weston, known as Lady Alys for her imperious ways, had run away from her life and reinvented herself as a steward with three foster children and a fluffy imperious cat named Attila.  (The cat was really Rocky, the feline belonging to a schoolteacher neighbor of mine.  I used to cat sit him when she was out of town.  Definitely imperious.) 

Alys is a strong character in her own right, with her own pains and sorrows and hidden dreams.  She shares Reggie’s subversive sense of humor, so there's a fair amount of banter.  This is also the most agricultural book I've ever written, showing something of what it was like to run an estate. (Yes, I grew up on a farm.)

But ultimately, it’s Reggie’s book. Here's a very brief excerpt, when Alys checks up on him after he's had a very bad episode with his drinking:

(Alys) took the prepared tray and entered the library.  Reggie was a lean, silent shape slouched in his favorite chair, half turned away from her.  The room too shadowed to see his face, but his clothing was neat.  With luck, he had not availed himself of the liquor cabinet. 

She set the tray on a table to the left of the door and said quietly.  “Are you still among the living?” 

His head turned in her direction.  After a lengthy silence, he said in a slow, rusty voice, “I've read of penguins that jump around on an ice floe, trying to decide if there are sharks in the water.  Eventually they push one of their number into the sea.  If the sacrifice isn't eaten, they all dive in.  You, I assume, are the sacrificial penguin.”

She had to smile.  Obviously there was some life in the old boy left.  “I’ve have been called many things in my life, but never a sacrificial penguin.  How did you know there was a committee outside trying to decide what to do about you?”
 

“Occasionally the door would open, very quietly, then close again.”
 

“After they had determined that the shark was still lurking here.”  Without asking if he wanted any, she poured two cups of tea, with heavy dollops of milk and sugar in Reggie's cup, then went and put it in his hand.  Close up, he looked dreadful, with haunted eyes and a gray tinge to his dark skin. 

As he stared at the dainty cup, she said helpfully, “It's called tea.  People drink it.  It's the British cure for whatever ails you.”

The first version of Reggie and Alys’s story was a SuperRegency called The Rake and the Reformer. and it caused a modest sensation when it was published.  I received some remarkable letters and the book won a RITA, among other awards.  On one occasion, a woman walked up to me at a conference, said the name of the book, then burst into tears.  (I led her to the nearest sofa, patted her hand, and we talked.)

Later NAL gave me the opportunity to revise my early Regencies into historical romances, and The Rake and the Reformer was transformed into The Rake.  People ask how much I added to the original story.  The answer?  I didn’t add anything.  Instead, I cut about 4000 words, making the story tighter and just a little bit sexier.  (I’d been threatened with actual bodily harm if I changed the story too much. <g>)

The story sold lots more copies as a historical romance, but eventually went out of print, as books do.  So I was pleased when Kensington chose to buy the rights to The Rake so they could reissue it again.  The official release date is April 27th, so it may already be showing up in stores. 

Needless to say, I’m delighted that a book so close to my heart is widely available again.  (Much as I love e-books, a lot more people still buy print.) 

As an amusing sidelight, a couple of years ago the Mayhem Consultant adopted a young tom cat to replace his much mourned Cleocatra.  Since the MC loves The Rake, he named the cat Reggie. BIG mistake—the Reg turned out to be a charming teenage thug who harassed my older cats.  ("Reggie makes other cats edgy!”)  In fact, a young feline troublemaker.  Maybe if we’d named him Cedric….

In honor of the reissue of this book of my heart, I’ll give away one copy of the very original version, The Rake and the Reformer, to someone who leaves a comment between now and midnight Saturday. 

I almost hesitate to ask you about your experiences with addiction—it is SO not a fun topic.  But if there’s anything you’d like to share, I have hugs to spare.

Mary Jo

 

Thinking Aloud . . .

Cara/Andrea here, musing today on evolution. Creative evolution, not biological evolution (though I suppose biology does indeed have something to do with the way we think.) It seems only fitting as yesterday was the first day of spring, a season that offers colorful reminders of how life as a whole is in a constant state of change.

Now, what got me to thinking about how ideas change and evolve is the recent project I’ve been working on—preparing my old Andrea Pickens out-of-print Regencies for reissue as e-books. I decided to read through them to correct some of the dumb errors I made as a newbie author—I’m ashamed to say that it took me a while to grasp the nuances of British titles, plus I somehow got the date of the Peninsular War mucked up. However, other than that, I decided not to alter the original text. Not, mind you, because it was perfect prose. On the contrary—my pen was itching to rewrite a number of scenes, but I restrained the urge. 

Despite all the faults—and there were many—there was a certain style and exuberance in them that I didn’t want to alter. They were my first books, and I see that glorious excitement at creating characters and conflict. My writing style has certainly evolved since those early days, but it’s fascinating to see the similarities too.  From the start, I liked creating outsiders, people who are dance to their own drummer.. Still do. I have fun exploring the nuances of individuals who don’t quite fit in to Society’s expectations. And while I like to think that my heroes and heroines have evolved, that they have gotten even more complex and interesting as I’ve gotten older and hopefully wiser, it is really interesting to see the essence of who they are—and who I am as a writer—is reflected in those first works.

What are those qualities? A heroine who summons up the courage to be true to herself despite the fact that Society does not approve of her passions. And a hero is trying to come to grips with his own flaws, and is struggling to be a better man. (Right now I have six of my traditional Regencies available as e-books, with three more to come in the next few weeks. If you are interested, you can go to my Andrea Pickens website to read excerpts.)

My thoughts about creative evolution were also sparked by another project I’m just beginning to work on. It’s something totally out of the box for me, and at this point I have no idea if it will progress past the present stage of randomly scribbled notes and memories. In any case, it had me digging through trunks and boxes of personal stuff from the past.

Among the things I pulled out were some class notebooks from my freshman year at college. It was fascinating to read through records of the lectures for History 59—Main Currents of European Thought. What seemed important to me, what I chose to emphasis, how I distilled concepts—the pages say just as much about my intellectual evolution as they do about Aquinas and Newton. Like my own storybook characters, my real life self is developing there on the page as the year goes on.

I also started sorting through some of my mother’s artwork. She was an immensely talented person, who was drawn to experimenting in a great many mediums. She loved watercolor paintings and did some really beautiful paintings of birds and flowers. But then her interest turned more to photography as she wanted to view the same subjects from a different perspective. Creative evolution.

It seems to me that all of us who are involved in any endeavor that calls for imagination and creativity are constantly evolving how we implement those ideas that are in our heads. “What if I tried it this way . . .” . . . “What if I added that . . .” Our minds are constantly questioning, our viewpoint is constantly changing. (To keep repeating the same old thing would be boring, right?” Exploration and inquisitiveness are part of the human spirit. So no matter the rough edges and glaring faults, my early endeavors made me sit back and smile.

What about you? Do you have a hobby or passion, and have you ever found a past project that made you laugh—or cringe? Are you like me and find it interesting to muse on how your personal perspective changes over the years, and to reflect on how you have “grown?” Or do you just like to live in the present?

Regency Pyrotechnics

Joanna here.

What do Vauxhall, the court of Queen Elizabeth, Cuper's Gardens, (which is described intriguingly as "the scene of low dissipation . . . and the great resort of the profligate of both sexes" — rather like our local mall,) the celebration of the wedding of George III, and Kensington Gardens have in common?

Fireworks.  Big, bright rockets and Catherine wheels and crackers.  Fireworks were the sound and light show of the Eighteenth Century.  The extravaganza that marked all great and festive events.

Sometimes there was music.  You can listen to Handel's Fireworks Music, for instance, here.  I'll admit I was expecting something with more booms in it.

 

“.... fireworks had for her a direct and magical appeal. Their attraction was more complex than that of any other form of art. They had pattern and sequence, colour and sound, brilliance and mobility; they had suspense, surprise, and a faint hint of danger; above all, they had the supreme quality of transience, which puts the keenest edge on beauty.”
Jan Struther, Mrs. Miniver

 

Fireworks came out of China, like printing, dim sum and Bruce Lee.  The original fireworks date back to the Ninth Century or so.  They, were firecrackers made of gunpowder, stuffed into thin bamboo shoots.  Oddly enough, the original use of pyrotechnics was not warfare.  All this gunpowder was set off at the new year to scare away evil spirits.  It probably worked.

Knowledge of gunpowder arrived in the Middle East and Europe in the 1200s.  Marco Polo sometimes gets the credit, and why shouldn't he? 

 

“You're much better than fireworks. They're all over in a moment, and you're going to stay for a fortnight. Besides, fireworks are noisy, and they make too much smoke.”
Kate Ross, Cut to the Quick

One of the first mentions of fireworks is in Roger Bacon's Opus Majus. 

"... that children's toy which is made in many diverse parts of the world, a device no bigger than one's thumb. From the violence of that salt called saltpetre, together with sulphur and willow charcoal, combined into a powder, so horrible a sound is made by the bursting of a thing so small, with no more than a bit of parchment containing it, that we find the ear assaulted by a noise exceeding the roar of strong thunder, and a flash brighter than the most brilliant lightning."
 
Early English fireworks specialists were — it's not surprising — military gunners.  The same men who used gunpowder to send an iron ball shooting out of a cannon, used that knowledge to create and explode fireworks.  They formed craft guilds across Europe, traveled, exchanged information, and wrote long treatises on the formulas and methods.    

This here is a vast fireworks display over the Thames in 1748 at the Duke of Richmond to celebrate the ending of the War of the Austrian Succession.  This is the shindig for which Handel wrote that music linked above.  

See there in the middle of the Thames?  Those rockets going up and letting off a globe and lights falling out were called 'stars'. 

To make falling stars —
"... the stuffe which is to be put into the Rocket for to flame and give crackes is made of twelve partes of Saltpeeter refind, of Citrine Brimstone nine partes, of grosse gunpowder five partes and 1/4 of a part mingled togeather with your hand."

That mixture was moistened and formed into small pieces, then packed into a ball and wound tightly round with packthread, given a fuse, and placed in the head of a rocket.  When the rocket exploded, the stars would stream down in the air.

One observer said it seemed "as if the sky has opened ... as if all the air in the world is filled with fireworks and all the stars in the heavens are falling to earth ...  a thing truly stupendous and marvelous to behold."

 

"We were ready for the apocalypse and when it didn't come we were very disappointed. So we drank more absinthe and set off fireworks."
Marilyn Manson

 

What our Regency folks would have called 'gun powder', what we might call 'black powder' today, was made from three main ingredients.  There were some other additives, but thee were the Big Three.

Ground charcoal.  The best charcoal, the sort used for fireworks — was made from willow, alder or black dogwood. 

Sulphur, which had to be perfectly clean and free from sulfuric acid. 

And saltpeter. Saltpeter is interesting stuff.  It's mainly potassium nitrate.  The name, sal petrae, 'salt of rock' is because it's found as an incrustation on rocks.  Eighteenth and Nineteenth Century folks mined it in dungheaps and farmyards and caves favored by bats for many years. Or they cultivated it deliberately by composting manure for a year, adding additional urine.  It was the urea in urine that bacteria broke down to the useful nitrates.

I haven't found any Regency reference to the idea that saltpeter suppresses sexual desire.  Either I just haven't found it or they hadn't thought that up yet.

Back to the ingredients for fireworks.
It's somewhat a matter of what they didn't have. Iron filings might be added to make a brighter and more intense flame, but fireworks were white and yellow.  They didn't have color.  It wasn't till the 1830s that folks started adding the metals that give color to fireworks.  All our red, blues and greens, the Regency folks never saw.

The rockets that launched all this display looked something like these Congreve rockets — military rockets — from 1805.
  Rockets for firework displays were made of paper, filled with powder.  The height of accent and the timing of the explosion was carefully controlled by the tightness of the packing, the size of the case and the length of the cotton fuse.  A long stick fixed the rocket to the ground, setting the flight at the proper angle.

And they had Catherine wheels.  As early as 1540, Florence and Siena in Italy erected huge wood and papier mache wheels set in motion by rockets and fire tubes. 

Fixed designs like modern fire fountains shot streams of lit powder into the air from rolls of pasteboard filled with gunpowder. I'm particularly impressed with this picture from the mid-Eighteenth Century that shows these fire fountains and the court ladies of Mohammad Shah playing with fireworks.  Brave ladies.

Another fixed display was a spherical 'sun'.

"In the centre of the block of the sun drive a spindle on which put a small hexagonal wheel whose cases must be  filled with the same charge as the cases of the sun…a sun thus made is called a Brilliant Sun because the wood work is intierly covered with fire from the wheel to the middle so there appears nothing but sparks of a brilliant fire."

For the entry of Louis XIII into Lyon in 1623, fireworkers constructed a huge artificial lion with fire bursting from its jaw.

Fireworks were spectacle, display, public celebration.  In 1814, in a jubilee in celebration of peace in London —


"The senses were next astonished and enchanted with a pacific exhibition of those tremendous instruments of destruction invented by colonel Congreve. Some notion even of their terrible power might be formed from the display of the night, and their exceeding beauty could be contemplated, divested of its usual awful associations. Each rocket contains in itself a world of smaller rockets: as soon as it is discharged from the gun it bursts, and flings aloft in the air innumerable parcels of flame, brilliant as the brightest stars: the whole atmosphere was illuminated by a delicate blue light, which threw an air of inchantment over the trees and lawns, and made even the motley groups of universal London become interesting as an assembly in romance."

 

What's the most memorable fireworks you've ever seen or participated in?  Anything from backyard sparklers to the aurora borealis or australis.  

One lucky commenter will win their choice of Black Hawk or Forbidden Rose.

 

 

Free Wench eBook!

 

Grab a free copy of a Wench ebook today!

The Raven's Wish, one of Susan King's early Scottish historical romances (and her second-ever book!), is available in e-book for Kindle, Nook and other formats ... and TODAY it's available FREEEEEEE on iBooks at Apple iTunes! This is a legit free download -- here's the link -- enjoy!

 

http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-ravens-wish/id442600327?mt=11 

 

When Elspeth Fraser, a beautiful Highland seer, has a vision of a handsome stranger's death, she is stunned when that same man rides into her life soon after. Duncan Macrae, the queen's lawyer, has been sent north to stop the feud between Elspeth's wild Highland cousins and a neighboring clan. Determined to send him south to save his life, Elspeth resists a strong attraction to the queen's dark-haired lawyer, who has secrets of his own. Duncan intends to complete his mission for the Crown, though he never expects the passion he feels for this stormy, vibrant Highland lass. But when a dangerous enemy threatens them both, Elspeth and Duncan face a shared destiny to change fate -- for if her prediction holds true, they will lose all... including the powerful love they have discovered...  The Raven's Wish

Winners!

Time to announce new winners!  Since our last winner announcement we've had several more blog commenters join our list of monthly book winners.  Triple winners Ellie Berger, Jenny Reed, and Felicia Ciaudelli won books from triple guests Elizabeth Rolls, Terri Brisbin, and Michelle Willingham.  Another guest, Madeline Hunter, awarded a book to Linda Young.  And rounding out the month, Cate Sparks won a book from Patricia Rice, and Sherri F.  scored a book from Mary Jo Putney.

Congratulations, winners!

Ask A Wench—What the Wenches Are Reading Now

Cara/Andrea here, Each month we try to respond to questions about  . . . well, whatever strikes the fancy of our readers! However, one of the most frequent questions we're asked is what books the Wenches are enjoying. And as we are all as passionate about reading as we are about writing, we are always delighted to share what's on our current list. So withour further ado . . .

Pat Rice:
I've not had a great amount of time to read lately, I'm very sorry to say. I have two books sitting beside my TV chair that I'm reading out of professional interest. I have a mystery thriller on my NordicTrak that is collecting dust because I'm just now getting back to exercising after the little wrist incident, and I have several books I'm reading on my Nook while I sit in waiting rooms or just before bed when and if I've finished all my work. Those are books by favorite authors, and the one I finally had time to finish this week is our own Jo's The Scandalous Countess. (I read Anne's Bride By Mistake and Joanna's The Black Hawk last month, which shows how far behind I am! And Nicola's Desired still languishes unread) I adore how smoothly Jo slips in fascinating tidbits of history, then hits us with one of the hottest, most original sex scenes I've read in a long time. And her scarred hero is utterly perfect in all ways, even if he wins the lady in a horse race!

Joanna Bourne
I seem to be going through a Young Adult patch in my reading right now.  I don't know why.  I've just finished War for the Oaks by Emma Bull.  It’s Urban Fantasy and very good. Readalikes are Peter S. Beagle's Folk of the Air, Robin McKinley's Sunshine, and Mercedes Lackey's Spirits White As Lightning .  Recently finished The Iron Duke by Meljean Brooks, a dystopian bit of fiction I'd like to call Young Adult Romantic Fantasy.  Is that hitting all the bases?  Beautiful work, and at the heart of the story is an examination of living with racial prejudice.  I finished off with C.S. Harris' Why Mermaids Sing.  Her Sebastian St. Cyr books are mystery, love story, and adventure set in the Regency/ French Revolutionary / Napoleonic War era.  They have spies.  Does this sound a bit familiar?

Susan Fraser King:
My eyes are bigger than my bookshelf -- so I accumulate quickly and just as quickly fall behind, but lately I'm diligently working my way through an eclectic assortment of fiction and nonfiction. I've just finished A History of Everyday Life in Medieval Scotland, 1000-1600, edited by Edward J. Cowan and Liz Henderson -- read it because I was asked to review it for an academic journal, and kept reading it because it's an excellent assortment of scholarly investigations into ordinary life concerns. Fiction-wise, I recently read I Am Half-Sick of Shadows, the fourth book in Alan Bradley's simply brilliant and totally charming mystery series about 11-year-old British sleuth Flavia de Luce (a series I adore, can you tell?). Right now, I'm deep into Keith Donohue's The Stolen Child, a fascinating story about the lives of a fairy changeling and the fairy-captured boy he replaces. Magical circumstances as every day occurrences, straightforward yet poetic writing, subtle characterization -- I'm loving it.

Mary Jo Putney
I just finished the delicious sixth Corinna Chapman mystery by Kerry Greenwood, Cooking the Books.  I discovered the series after Anne Gracie interviewed Kerry on the Word Wenches.

The stories are set in contemporary Melbourne and feature Corinna, former accountant and now a master baker, along with an extremely colorful cast of cats and other secondary characters.  The series is long on wit and charm and short on gore, which suits me.
 
In this just released book, Corinna has closed the bakery for a month after Christmas so she can rest, and finds herself ill-suited to holidays.  Bored, she lets an old school chum twist her arm into baking for the cast of a TV pilot.  She finds actors both horrifying and fascinating, and is soon up to her ears in baking, bearer bonds, and assorted other mayhem.  (There’s a tiger who loves anchovies, among other things. <G>)
 
I love Corinna, a happy and unashamed size 20, and it’s always fun when people are startled by the gorgeousness of her kind and clever Israeli P.I. lover.  Even more, I love Corrina’s world.  Having scarfed down all six in the series, I am impatiently waiting for new entries.


Jo Beverley
I'm reading Beyond The Night, an apocalyptic romance by Joss Ware, who also 
writes vampire Regency as Colleen Gleason. Generally I'm not into any sort of 
apocalypse, and I gave up SF for a while way back when that seemed to be all 
there was, but somehow Joss Ware makes her dark, ruined world fascinating. 
Plus, the characters and relationships are complex and very well done.


Anne Gracie
I've been reading a few debut books, recently. The first is Cecilia Grant's A Lady Awakened, which is an unusual historical romance with quite a risky premise, especially for a first book. I found it an engrossing read. The writing is very assured, and I'll certainly read her next book.

The other debut book is Deanna Raybourne's first book, Silent in the Grave, the first in a historical mystery series. I've come to her late and I'm glad of it because there are already more in the series, and though I'm only into chapter five, I suspect I'll be ordering the rest.

Next on my list is Lindsey Davis's Alexandria (and yes, I know I'm running behind, that there is a new book out now.) If you haven't discovered Lindsey Davis's Falco series of Roman-era mysteries, get thee to a bookstore immediately, because they're wonderful. Funny, clever, wry, beautifully researched and with a cast of delightful characters — and there's a lovely on-going romance as well. And if you're in doubt of whether you'll like her work, try her website with its delightful rants page. http://www.lindseydavis.co.uk/rants.htm

Nicola Cornick
I’m having something of a rummage through my keeper shelves at the moment and enjoying some of my favourites over again. I’ve just finished Ordinary Girl in a Tiara, a fabulous girl-meets-her-Prince story by Jessica Hart who is one of my favourite Mills & Boon contemporary authors. I’m a total sucker for stories like this – last year I fell in love with Sophie Page’s wonderful romance To Marry a Prince. Both Ordinary Girl in a Tiara and the sequel The Secret Princess are wonderful warm romantic stories.

I’ve also been re-reading The Belle Dames Club by Melinda Hammond, a traditional Regency that is a lot of fun. It’s all about the wicked antics of a secret club for ladies! Also on the historical side, but historical crime this time, I’ve just finished The Gilded Shroud by Elizabeth Bailey. It’s a Georgian murder mystery with a delicious romance and a wonderful sleuthing heroine in Ottilia Draycott. The second book in the series, The Deathly Portent, is out next month and I can’t wait! Next on my pile is The Rose Garden by Susanna Kearsley and I'm really looking forward to that!

Cara Elliott/Andrea Penrose
My recent reading choices have been two very, very different types of books—yet both were really enjoyable. Mysteries are one of my favorite genres, and I happened to spot an interesting title on the “New Releases” shelf at my local library by a new-to-me author and so decided to give it a try. Death and the Maiden, by Gerald Elias is set within the world of classical music, and the plot centers around a (fictional) world -renowned string quartet—they are about to perform Schubert’s famous work by that same name at Carnegie Hall—who are in the midst of internal feuding and a potentially crippling lawsuit by a disgruntled former member. When the first violinist goes missing, the curmudgeonly former concert violinist and teacher, Daniel Jacobus is convinced by his protege to do some investigating. “Jake” is a fascinating protagonist—to begin with, he’s elderly and he’s blind. And he’s got a sardonic view of the world. It’s very well-written, with pithy dialogue and twisty plot turns.  I learned a lot about the inner world of music, which I know little about, so it was a fun read. I’ll be looking for the two earlier books in the series.

And at the moment, I’m halfway through Catherine the Great by Robert Massie. I’ve been a big fan of Massie’s books for years. (Peter the Great and Nicholas and Alexandra are particular favorites.) I love how he makes his subjects so human, and how he weaves in the history of the times, so a reader really understands the personality in context to the world in which he or she lived. (I was lucky enough to hear Massie speak last week in New York, and he’s equally wonderful in person. His passion for his subjects is very evident as he reads excerpts from their letters and tells some of the amusing anecdotes that he has uncovered in his research.)

It would be hard NOT to make Catherine the Great a riveting read. Her story, from a loveless childhood as an obscure German princess to a bizarre marriage with the half-crazy Peter III to becoming one of the most powerful rulers of her age, is absolutely fascinating. She is truly one of the most remarkable women in history, so I really recommend it!

So, that's what we've been enjoying. How about you? See any of your favorites on the list? And now it's your turn—please share what books you've been reading that made you heart sing.

The Fallen Angels: Together Again at Last

by Mary Jo

Yippee!  This week, River of Fire is being released in e-book form, which means that all seven books of the Fallen Angel series are available.  (The seventh book, One Perfect Rose, was reissued by Kensington Books and has been available in an e-edition for the last two years.)

This series is the one that draws the most comments and requests for availability, but like most projects, it began in a rather haphazard fashion.  I’d just finished my Silk Trilogy, and while I loved the stories and the characters, the research required for the exotic settings was exhausting. 

Feeling flattened after delivering the third book, Veils of Silk, I decided it was time to return to the familiar fictional terrain of the Regency.  I’d still need to research each specific book, but it would be child’s play compared to digging for information about Central Asia and India in pre-internet days.

I hadn’t actually gotten as far as thinking of what I’d write when my editor called and said that Signet wanted my next book to be the launch lead for the new Topaz imprint, and she needed a basic idea for the story by the next day. SHRIEK! 

But my muse performs best in dire emergencies and overnight she produced the concept for what became Thunder and Roses.  That was also the seed for the Fallen Angels—boys who’d met and bonded at Eton because of their disastrous families, and who had vaguely Biblical names, hence “Fallen Angels,” a charmingly bad boy series title.

Because Signet wanted to build the new imprint, they wanted more books faster than I can really write.  Which led to me revising The Controversial Countess, a long early Signet Regency, into a historical romance titled Petals in the Storm.  It fit into the series structure beautifully, and the trilogy became a quadrology.  <G>

But the Countess had generated a spin-off Regency with one of my favorite heroes, so I revised The Rogue and the Runaway into Angel Rogue.  Dancing on the Wind, a new book, was released between Petals and Angel Rogue. 

Then came Shattered Rainbows, which would have been the last of the original trilogy, but you can guess what happened—the book generated two more spin-offs: River of Fire and One Perfect Rose.  At that point I quit since I felt that 7 books were quite enough for a trilogy. <G>  (You'll have gathered that I get way too attached to my secondary characters.  Especially if they're male and appealing.)

This is probably way too much information, but I do find a certain amazed satisfaction at looking back at how the series evolved.  I also found, over the recent months of proofing and production—that I still like the books just fine.  Though I fixed the typos and a few minor errors of fact (a reader informed me that Persians were not a cat breed in 1815 <g>), the characters and their stories still worked for me.  I hope they continue to work for other readers.

The series is built around the later Napoleonic wars, with many of the characters involved as soldiers or spies, and then the transition to peacetime.  The first book was set in 1814, the last in 1818. 

Which brings me to River of Fire.  I don’t see the book on many lists of favorites, but I love the story.  The hero, Kenneth Wilding, has the broad shoulders and burly strength of a stevedore--and the soul of an artist.  Though he was heir to a viscount, at eighteen he became estranged from his father because of the wicked manipulations of his young stepmother.  With few choices, Kenneth enlisted as a common soldier.

Because he had education and leadership ability, he eventually received a field commission and became an exploring officer, risking his life riding alone across Spain so he could draw maps and gather other information.  By the time Waterloo arrived, he was a captain.

With the war over and his father dead, Kenneth returns to an empty title and ravaged estate.  Then a stranger offers a devil’s bargain: financial salvation in return for Kenneth’s special subversive skills.

Reluctantly Kenneth enters the household of the greatest painter in England to unmask a terrible crime. Instead, he discovers something infinitely more dangerous: a tantalizing, creative way of life and an irresistible woman. Everything he has always wanted—and can never have.

Here’s a brief excerpt.  After proving that he knows and understands painting, Kenneth has just been hired as a secretary by Sir Anthony Seaton.   Sir Anthony’s daughter Rebecca does not approve.

    Rebecca thought wistfully of her father's previous secretaries. All had been pleasant young men of good family. Civilized. Easy to have around the house. Not a pirate in the lot.
    The captain said, "While I don't mind acting as a general factotum, I'm curious about why I'm needed for such work when you are so obviously competent."
    "I don't choose to spend my time as a housekeeper," she said in a clipped voice.
    Responding to her tone rather than her words, he remarked, "You don't like me very much, do you, Miss Seaton?"
    Good God, had the man no discretion? Well, if he preferred bluntness, she would oblige. She halted on the landing and turned to face him. He stopped a step below her, putting their eyes almost level. For some reason, that made her even more aware of his physical power. She repressed the urge to back away. "We've only just met, so how can I either like or dislike you?"
    "Since when is it necessary to know someone to dislike him? It's clear that you wish your father hadn't engaged me."
    "You look more like a marauder than a secretary," she said tartly. "And knowing my father, he didn't bother to ask for references. How did you learn about the position?"
    His gaze became opaque. "A friend of your father's told me."
    "Who?"
    "The gentleman preferred to remain anonymous."
    It was undeniably the sort of thing one of Sir Anthony's eccentric friends might do. "Do you have any letters of reference?" she asked. "Anything to suggest that you're not a fraud or a thief?"
    There was a faint tightening at the corners of his eyes. After a moment, he said, "No, though if you don't mind waiting, I suppose I could get one from the Duke of Wellington. He's known me for years, and I think he considers me respectable."

Conventional wisdom says that books about artists and musicians don’t sell well.  Perhaps not, but I loved writing a book where none of the three major characters know how they feel unless they have a brush or a piece of charcoal in their hands.  <G> 

I’m an art school graduate, and while my major was industrial design and I was always a designer more than an artist, I love writing about creativity. 

I think of River of Fire as my "Creative Process book, historical division."  (The Spiral Path is my "Creative Process book, contemporary division."  It’s about moviemaking, not painting.)  Both books are not unrelated to what I feel about my writing. 

So for all of those readers who’ve asked about the Fallen Angels series over the years, the whole series is now available in e-book mode on numerous platforms.  Enjoy!

Now for a question.  It’s possible to do POD (print on demand) copies of e-books.  It costs money to set up, the prices are higher than mass market (perhaps $12-14), and the authors generally make less money.

Nonetheless, plenty of people don’t have e-readers, so a POD book would make print available.  I have an e-reader, but I prefer print myself.  So how do you feel about POD?  Would you be willing to pay more for a good quality print book that is otherwise available only as an e-file?  When I have the time, should I put the first few Fallen Angels books out in POD form?  I’d really like to know what serious readers think.

To commemorate the end of the long road to Fallen Angel e-books, I’m going to give away—a PRINT copy of River of Fire. <g> It will go to someone who leaves a comment between now and Thursday midnight.

Mary Jo, adding that credit for the great covers goes to Kim Killon of www.hotdamndesigns.com 

An Interview with Julie Cohen!

Nicola here. I’ve been a fan of Julie Cohen’s writing for a long time, ever since I read Delicious, a Harlequin Mills & Boon contemporary romance. These days Julie writes contemporary novels for Headline and when I discovered that her new book, The Summer of Living Dangerously, has a strong element of the Regency about it, I was very excited! The book lived up to all my expectations; it's warm, emotional, funny and one of the best books I've read in a long time.

Nicola: Julie, welcome to the Word Wenches! Please tell us a bit about yourself and how you came to be a writer.

Julie: I grew up in a small town in the woods in Maine and I never really wanted to be anything other than a reader and a writer. I read everything I could get my hands on and started writing my first ‘novel’ when I was eleven. I received my first payment for published writing when I was twelve—a cheque for six dollars. And when I was fifteen I started co-writing romance novels with my best friend Kathy Love instead of paying attention in chemistry lessons.

There isn’t any guaranteed career path for becoming a writer, though, and I spent many years being a reader instead, studying English Literature at Brown University and Cambridge University, and doing an MPhil in fairies in Victorian children’s literature. I met a sexy guitar-playing Englishman and got married. It was only when I was teaching secondary school English full time that I decided to chase my writing dreams again. I started trying to write a Mills & Boon novel, and it took many rejections before my first one was accepted in 2004. Since then I’ve written fourteen novels, first for Harlequin Mills & Boon, and then for the Little Black Dress romance imprint and more recently standalone women’s fiction novels for Headline Review.

Nicola: Your new book, The Summer of Living Dangerously, is out now. It’s a contemporary novel but with a very strong Regency theme running through the book, a story within a story. What was it that inspired you to tell the story in that particular way?

Julie: My husband and I were in Brighton for our anniversary and we went to the Brighton Pavilion on a day when there were historical interpreters there. They were wearing Regency dress and speaking to visitors as if we’d come as guests of the Prince Regent; we were quite surprised to see the Prince himself walking the corridors, attended by servants and courtiers. It was great fun, but the thing that really struck me was that the interpreters stayed in character even when they weren’t actively working. They wandered the corridors trading period jokes and gossip with each other, as if they really did live there. And of course my novelist’s mind started working: what would it be like to pretend, every day, that you were 200 years in the past? What if you got so involved in the fictional past that it became more important in your mind than your real, present life? That’s exactly what happens to Alice, my heroine: she takes a job as a costumed interpreter in a stately home, and she tries to escape into a romantic 1814-world. But her real life keeps on getting in the way.

I also love writing dual narratives, where the secondary one reflects and illuminates the main story. I’ve done it a few times before, where the heroine has a fictional storyline that she’s creating since she’s a novelist or an artist, but this is the first time where my heroine has actually acted out her fantasies and tried to live in her dream world. All of my books, in some way, are about identity or about pretending to be someone you’re not. It’s an idea that really resonates with me for some reason, though I’ve never lived a dual life myself.

Nicola: I’ve known for a while that you are a Regency fan and we were on a panel together at the Romantic Novelists’ Association Regency Day, so where did your interest in the Regency period originally come from?

Julie: Jane Austen, of course, and Georgette Heyer. By training I’m a Victorianist, but let’s face it, Regency is where the romance is at. And the tight breeches. Ahem.

Nicola: Indeed it is! The historical elements of the book are very well researched. How did you set about your Regency research and which part did you enjoy the most?

Julie: Thank you! It was part of my terror that People Who Really Know These Things would find all kinds of mistakes so I did try to research everything as fully as I could. But because I only had to know certain things—mostly the things that a woman in 2012 would notice—it presented different challenges than writing an actual historical novel. A Regency gentlewoman would know what ratafia was, for example, and wouldn’t have to explain it to the reader. A modern woman would sniff it, taste it, wonder what the heck it was and whether it was going to get her drunk. Likewise, a Regency gentlewoman wouldn’t discuss her underwear. But my heroine Alice was going to have to adjust to wearing stays, and question why she hasn’t been provided with knickers.

Mostly, I tried to experience most of the things my heroine does for myself. I tried on Regency clothing and spoke to costume experts; I learned Regency dancing and went to a Regency ball. Wearing period costume makes you carry yourself differently; it really does educate you in the physical restrictions of the time. I think I liked the dancing the best, even though I did learn about the hazards of doing the Duke of Kent’s Waltz when you are wearing a tall plume and dancing with a short (though charming) gentleman!

Nicola: Ah, the pleasures and pitfalls of research! Alice, the heroine, works as a costumed interpreter in a stately home where they are re-creating the events of the summer of 1814. Is this a job that would appeal to you – or not?

It sounds like great fun, at least for some of the time. I think I’d enjoy the acting part of it, and the frocks of course. In the novel though I did skim over the more boring bits of the job, for example talking about the paintings on the wall over and over and over again all day, all summer. I talked to some NT volunteers and I learned that being a tour guide is not for the faint-hearted. (You know this already, Nicola, I imagine!)

Nicola: Well, yes, that’s true! As a reader and a writer I love a hot Regency hero so I was expecting to lose my heart to James Fitzwilliam in the Regency story. And don’t get me wrong – he is gorgeous – but in the end it was Leo, the contemporary hero who stole the book for me. How did you create two such different and appealing heroes in one book? 

Julie: It wasn’t easy. I always fall in love with my heroes and I was so, so in love with reckless, wounded Leo that I found in writing my first draft, I was reluctant to let James steal any of his limelight. But I needed responsible, aristocratic James to be attractive, too. Essentially I had to write the book twice: I did the first draft being in love with Leo, and then after I’d finished that draft, I let myself crawl into James’s head and fall in love with him, too, so I could rewrite the bits of the book with him in it, and do him justice.

Nicola: You certainly succeeded! Which was your favourite scene in the book? And I have to ask – what was the inspiration for the “chandelier and crotch” scene?

Julie: Ahhh well the chandelier and crotch scene really happened, and I believe you were there, Nicola. It was the evening of the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s anniversary gala dinner, in the Trafalgar Tavern, Greenwich, a wonderful historical setting. At one point between the starter and the main, the light shone in through the windows overlooking the Thames, struck a crystal on the chandelier, and shone a rainbow onto the large oil painting of Nelson and his compatriots: directly onto Nelson’s crotch.

I have a suspicion this is a deliberate thing—a sort of sundial. Anyway, I shamelessly stole it. I was wondering if there would be a rash of ‘rainbows on crotch’ scenes in RNA members’ novels, but I haven’t noticed any other ones yet.

My two favourite scenes are ones that came to me in dreams. One is the flashback to the moment that Alice and Leo fell in love. It’s several summers ago, and they’re innocent and unsuspecting, and this attraction flares out of nowhere and suddenly, they know they’re meant to be together. It was such a simple, romantic scene to write, and yet by the beginning of the actual novel, that relationship is in tatters and neither think it can be revived.

The other favourite scene is about another painting: Leo’s portrait of his dead alcoholic father, which he paints on the wall late one night in despair. It crystallised everything I was trying to say about how complicated love is and what a complex and yet inescapable relationship we have with the past.

Nicola: Nelson was always very proud of his prowess, wasn't he! I do love the picture and I can't believe I missed the whole illuminated crotch experience that night at the Trafalgar Tavern!

As well as making me laugh out loud, The Summer of Living Dangerously also tackles some tough emotional issues and made me cry quite a lot. How do you create such depth of emotion in a story?

Julie: The book is really about loss, and how the past can’t ever truly be recreated. Everything, all the Regency plot and all the contemporary plot, centres around the loss that Alice and Leo have suffered in the past; I tried very hard to make everything relate back to that one, core emotion in the story. For example, Alice’s 1814 character is wearing mourning for her fictional parents, and the real Alice is also mourning, though she is hiding it deep inside. Although not every reader will have shared Alice’s pain in their own lives, I think everyone can relate to loss, so hopefully it will strike a chord with many readers.

Nicola: You’re quite a guru when it comes to advice for authors. How did you get to be so famous for giving workshops on writing sex scenes?

Julie: It was sort of by mistake. Before I was published, I gave a workshop on writing sex scenes to my local writing group, and we had a lot of fun. A member mentioned it to someone else, who booked me to give it at an RNA conference. Apparently the people in the next room to that workshop could hear us laughing, and that led to a lot more bookings of the workshop so that they could find out what was going on! Over the past few years I’ve given the workshop all over the place to entirely different groups of people, and I’m next giving it at the Chipping Norton Literary Festival, on 21 April.

Nicola: What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever been given and what advice would you give to other aspiring authors?

Julie: The most liberating advice is the one I now always give to aspiring authors: give yourself permission to write crap. Your first draft doesn’t need to be perfect, but it does need to be written. Sometimes we need to write the wrong words in order to find the right ones.

Nicola: Thank you very much for chatting with us today!

Julie: Thank you so much for having me, Nicola and the Word Wenches!

You can find Julie's website here: http://www.julie-cohen.com and follow her on Twitter @julie_cohen and Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/julie.cohen.books

The Summer of Living Dangerously is available from Amazon: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Summer-Living-Dangerously-Julie-Cohen/dp/0755350650/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_1 and also from the Book Depository with free international postage: http://www.bookdepository.co.uk/Summer-Living-Dangerously-Julie-Cohen/9780755350650

Julie is offering a signed copy of The Summer of Living Dangerously to one reader who leaves a comment between now and Midnight Tuesday. Her question is: What would be your ideal romantic summer job?

 

Guest Julie Cohen

Happy Daylight Saving Time <yawning> and a pre-holiday Happy St. Patrick's Day from the Wenches!

Tomorrow, Nicola Cornick interviews author Julie Cohen, whose latest book, The Summer of Living Dangerously, is out this month.  Reviewers label the book "warm and funny."  It's the story of Alice Woodstock, who escapes her past by donning period clothing and conducting tours of a stately Regency home. But her past catches up to her when the man who broke her heart returns.

Join us for Julie's interview on Monday, March 12!

Awards and historicals

Hi, here's Jo thinking about awards and historicals.

The wider literary world doesn't take romance novels seriously, and historical romance perhaps lies at the bottom of that particular pile. The term "bodice rippers" was created to ridicule the books, but I have to admit that it arose in the -- to me -- dark days of the rape sagas, when clothes were ripped from well-endowed heroines, who apparently were severely inhibited (corset too tight?) and needed violence to realize she wanted to orgasm with the guy. 

But on to awards.

The long list has just been announced for the Orange Prize  for fiction by women. Chair Joanna Trollop was quoted in the Guardian as saying, "Yes, there are a fair number of historical novels, but they vary hugely from a gay cabaret artist in Berlin in the second world war to a preacher going off to deal with lost souls on a Hebridean island in the 1830s."

It's the "but" that interests me. It's as if historical fiction being on the list needs some apology.

This is the long list, and I admit, I haven't read any of them. Have you? Comments?

• Island of Wings by Karin Altenberg (Quercus) - Swedish; 1st Novel
• On the Floor by Aifric Campbell (Serpent's Tail) - Irish; 3rd Novel
• The Grief of Others by Leah Hager Cohen (The Clerkenwell Press) - American; 4th Novel
• The Sealed Letter by Emma Donoghue (Picador) - Irish; 7th Novel
• Half Blood Blues by Esi Edugyan (Serpent's Tail) - Canadian; 2nd Novel
• The Forgotten Waltz by Anne Enright (Jonathan Cape) - Irish; 5th Novel
• The Flying Man by Roopa Farooki (Headline Review) - British; 5th Novel
• Lord of Misrule by Jaimy Gordon (Quercus) - American; 4th Novel
• Painter of Silence by Georgina Harding (Bloomsbury) - British; 3rd Novel
• Gillespie and I by Jane Harris (Faber & Faber) - British; 2nd Novel
• The Translation of the Bones by Francesca Kay (Weidenfeld & Nicolson) - British; 2nd Novel
• The Blue Book by A.L. Kennedy (Jonathan Cape) - British; 6th Novel
• The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (Harvill Secker) - American; 1st Novel
• The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller (Bloomsbury) - American; 1st Novel
• Foreign Bodies by Cynthia Ozick (Atlantic Books) - American; 7th Novel
• State of Wonder by Ann Patchett (Bloomsbury) - American; 6th Novel
• There but for the by Ali Smith (Hamish Hamilton) - British; 5th Novel
• The Pink Hotel by Anna Stothard (Alma Books) - British; 2nd Novel
• Tides of War by Stella Tillyard (Chatto & Windus) - British; 1st Novel
• The Submission by Amy Waldman (William Heinemann) - American; 1st Novel

I don't count Second World War as historical, given that so many living people were around at the time, so I think this is the "astonishing" collection of historicals.

Madeline Miller's The Song of Achilles, the love story of Achilles and Patroclus.

Karin Altenberg's Island of Wings, a marriage tested by St Kilda in the 1830s

Stella Tillyard's Tides of War, a marriage tested by the Peninsular war

Three love stories -- not so very far from historical romance on the spectrum. What some would say sets them apart is roots deep in reality. Achilles and Patroclus is based on such reality as we have about Ancient Greece. Island of Wings apparently draws on the diaries of a minister of the time. Stella Tillyard is a well known Georgian historian and I gather her novel is notable for period detail.

Historical romances, perhaps by definition, do not use real protagonists, but many are notable for accurate period detail. The balance is probably different, however, for the historical romance author gets bonus points for using her period knowledge unobtrusively, whereas the historical novelist gets them almost by weight. That is not snarky, or even a criticism. Different readers look for different ingredients in fiction and it's lovely to see the ingredients used well and appropriately.

There have been award-winning historical novels that aren't love stories, so is the above list a fluke, or is it something to do with we women writers who so often find human love relationships the most fascinating part of history? Or is that true?

Here's another award. The UK Romantic Novelists Association just had its award ceremony and the winner for historical is Highland Storms by Christina Courtenay

Follow the link for more details and an excerpt.

You can also see the short list here, and perhaps find some new, interesting reading.

 

What do you think about the acceptability of historicals in the literary world? Is it a matter of real or almost-real protagonists, the weight of factual detail, or is it mostly presentation -- titles and covers? My enquiring mind wants to know.

Cheers,

Jo

 

 

 

 

Interview with Madeline Hunter

Anne here. I first discovered Madeline Hunter through her superb medieval romances— By Design is one of my all-time favorites. These days however Madeline sets her books in the very popular
Georgian/Regency era and by doing so has expanded her devoted following. A New York Times and USA Today bestseller and a multi-award winning author — she's twice won the RITA — her books  are always complex, compelling and unputdownable. 
Madeline, welcome to the Word Wenches. What made you decide to become a writer?

Madeline: I am one of those people who began writing as soon as she learned to read. I thought my stories were better than the ones in the books I had as a child, so I sat down and pecked them out on a manual typewriter.

Anne: At the time of this interview, Madeline was in Paris. How did you come to be in Paris? Could you share something special you've done there? 

Madeline: I take students to Europe over spring break every year, alternating Paris and Florence. The trips are parts of courses I teach. So I was there a week, visiting the museums and being part tour guide, part professor, part mom to this group of young people. We always go out to Versailles, which is special, and I have become very fond of the town that flourishes outside the palace grounds.

Anne: That sounds like a wonderful course.  Your new book, The Surrender of Miss Fairbourne, is the first in a new series -- the Fairbourne Quartet. Could you tell us about this series? Is it linked to any of your other books? 

Madeline: The new series is not linked to any other books. It takes place in the late 1790s, so it is earlier than any of my recent series too. There are four core elements that tie the series together. One is Fairbourne's auction house. It figures prominently in the first story and will be a hub setting for the others. There is also a group of peers who are old friends, and a diverse group of women who are as well, or becoming friends. Finally there is a thread regarding the death of one of the men right before the story opens, that will affect all the stories in one way or another until the questions about that death are resolved. 

Anne: I really like the sound of this set-up. What sparked the idea for a book about a woman running a prestigious London auction house?

Madeline: I am an art historian and loved the idea of using that background in a more direct way than I normally get to do. I only have had one other book where my expertise in art was essential to the story, and that was Lord of Sin. Auction houses were businesses, but also colorful places full of interesting people, and the idea entered my head to use one as a setting. It all evolved from there.

Anne: You always do a wonderful job of bringing the past to life. In your research for this book did you come across anything that surprised you, or which might be of particular interest to our readers? 

Madeline: I found it interesting that between the 18th century, when my book is set, and around the 1970s (when the biggest auction houses became corporations, and began dabbling in high finance), not much changed in the way auction houses were run, or in their policies. Back then the seller paid a commission to the house, as one does now. The seller would also pay for any special promotions. It was customary at the most prestigious houses, such as Christie's, to have a grand preview one of the nights leading up to a major auction of art. This would be a huge party to lure the weathy patrons to come and view the offerings.   

Perhaps most interesting to me was the law passed in the 18th century regulating the auction trade, by licensing auctioneers and taxing the proceeds of auctions. At a time when most business was pretty free of regulation, this one, that we think of as being "buyer beware" was actually one of the ones facing the most government scrutiny. My book makes reference to some of the practical reasons for this.

Anne: Fascinating. Can you give us a small taste of The Surrender of Miss Fairbourne?

Madeline: In this scene, Darius has gone to call of Emma after their first confrontation at the auction house. He walks in as she is interviewing for a man to replace the exhibition hall manager who has quit because she won't marry him. Darius does not know any of her plans, however. Indeed, he assumes she has held the last auction and will submit to his judgment that the business must be sold. He has come to explain the particulars about all of that. 

Maitland, the Fairbournes’ butler, did not open the door. Rather Obediah Riggles, the auctioneer, did the duty.

Obediah appeared just as surprised to see Darius as Darius was to see him.

“Has Maitland gone?” Darius asked quietly after Obediah had taken his hat and card. The young blood busied himself primping the hair around his face, making sure the artful wisps of his Brutus fell just so.

“No, sir. Miss Fairbourne asked me to man the gate, just for today. I’m to turn away unsuitable sorts.”

Presumably there were adventurers and even thieves aware that Miss Fairbourne was now a woman alone. Unsuitable sorts might well find excuses to impose on her, and it was unlikely she could identify who had been an associate of her father, seeking to offer condolences, and who had not been.

“I was told to bring visitors to the drawing room, sir,” Obediah said, angling his head for a private word. “I think it might be better to escort you to the morning room instead. I will tell Miss Fairbourne that you are there.”

“If she is receiving in the drawing room, take me there, Riggles. I will not have special accommodations made due to my station. I insist that you present my card exactly as you do the others. I can ask for a private word after her other callers leave.”

Obediah vacillated. The young blood cleared his throat impatiently.

“The drawing room?” Darius prompted.

Bearing the salver with two cards, the auctioneer led the way up the stairs. He opened the doors to the drawing room and stood aside.

Darius entered into a most peculiar scene. Miss Fairbourne had not come down yet. She had a great many callers waiting, however. Ten young men lounged around the chamber.

The callers gave the newcomers critical examinations, then went back to doing nothing. Darius turned to ask Obediah the meaning of this masculine collection, but the doors had closed and Obediah had returned to his post.

Darius positioned himself in front of the fireplace and took stock of his company. All of them were of similar cut—young, fashionable, and handsome. Miss Fairbourne was an heiress now, and perhaps these were suitors, lining up to court her.

He pictured the earnest entreaties that would be made as each one pressed his case in turn. Considering his own experiences with Miss Fairbourne, these young men would likely get their ears burned. He was rather sorry that he would miss the show.

He strode to a divan and sat beside a polished blond swain wearing a striped red and blue waistcoat of considerable cost but questionable taste. The fellow smiled an acknowledgment but scrutinized Darius at the same time.

“A bit old, aren’t you?” he said.

“Ancient,” Darius replied dryly. Thirty-three probably did look old to a pup barely out of university, he supposed. It had to him when he was that age.

His new companion thought the response droll, but seemed to realize the question had not gone down well. “My apologies, sir. I only meant that I think she is looking for someone younger. Perhaps not, though, and your maturity will put us all to a disadvantage.” He angled his body, the better to chat. “John Laughton, at your service.”

Darius believed that etiquette existed for good reasons, but he prided himself on not being a stickler. Therefore he introduced himself in turn. “Southwaite.”

Laughton frowned, perplexed. “Oh? Ohhhh.” He glanced around the chamber. “You are not here—that is, it goes without saying you are not competition.” He laughed. “I confess that is a relief to me.”

Darius was about to reassure him that he certainly was not competition, when a door opened at the end of the drawing room and a woman emerged from the connecting library.

It was not Miss Fairbourne. Rather Lady Cassandra Vernham, the notorious sister of the Earl of Barrowmore, immediately garnered the attention of every man in the chamber.

A tumble of black curls fell around her face and neck from beneath a white lacy cap perched high on her crown. The palest green diaphanous cloth flowed around her body from where a white ribbon bound it high under her admirable breasts. Her large red mouth pursed and appeared shockingly erotic while she opened a journal book and peered at its page.

“Mr. Laughton.”

Laughton sprang to his feet, smoothed his coat, and walked forward. He followed Cassandra into the library and the door closed.

Laughton had left behind a newspaper. Darius noticed that the page showing had been marked. He picked it up and read the advertisement that been worthy of John Laughton’s attention.

Wanted: For a very special and most pleasurable employment, a handsome young man of amiable disposition and notable wit, with excellent manners, advanced education, and unquestionable discretion. Must possess a fashionable appearance, a strong physique, an enjoyment of female company, and undisputed charm. Inquire at the chambers of Mr. Weatherby, on Green Street.

It was a peculiar and somewhat startling notice. Someone clearly sought something other than a footman or secretary.

Darius looked at the very amiable and fashionable young men lounging in the drawing room. Presumably they had all been sent here when they visited Mr. Weatherby.

Evidently there was much more to Miss Fairbourne than he had surmised. Her judgment left much to be desired, however. What was the woman thinking? Maurice must be turning over in his grave.

He strode from the drawing room, to go and find Riggles. Out on the landing a sound made him pause in his tracks. Clear as could be, he heard two women speaking around the corner.

“He is definitely the best of the lot so far, and we should ensure he will pass muster, Emma.”

“We can do that while he remains dressed.”

“I only asked him to remove his coat so his physique would be visible. Much is obscured by coats, and strong shoulders can become quite narrow once a man is in his shirtsleeves and nothing more.”

“He will be wearing coats all the time, so that does not signify.”

Silence then. Long enough that Darius assumed the ladies had returned to the library.

“Emma, I fear that you do not comprehend the practicalities,” Cassandra Vernham spoke again. “Do you really think that men forever remain in their coats when they charm and flatter to the extent you expect?”

Darius turned on his heel and returned to the drawing room. Standing at the door, he eyed the young men waiting to impress Miss Fairbourne with just how charming they could be.

Anne: Lovely. There's another excerpt here, on Madeline's site. Madeline, you usually have a strong suspense or mystery thread in your romances. Have you ever been tempted to change the balance and write mysteries/thrillers with a romantic subplot? 

Madeline: Yes, I have been tempted, more often in years past than presently. I like the character focus of the balance I use now, however.

Anne: You often write about people who are outsiders in society in some way. What's the appeal of outsiders do you think? 

Madeline: As a writer, outsiders are useful because they come with a built in conflict with the established order, whatever that order may be. I also like to have them in my books because they poke a few holes in the view of the period as being all about drawing room conversations and worrying about clothes. I think the outsider's view of that world grounds it in a sense of reality, and permits a bit of commentary via the outsider's perceptions.

Anne: I enjoy that, too. So, what's next on the Madeline Hunter agenda?     

Madeline: I am writing the second book of the series, The Conquest of Lady Cassandra. It will be published in October 2012. 

Anne: I'm looking forward to it. Thank you so much for chatting to us here, Madeline. 
Madeline will be giving away a copy of her new book,  The Surrender of Miss Fairbourne, to someone who leaves a comment or a response to this question: if you could take a tour in the company of an art and writing expert, such as Madeline, where would you like to go?

An Ode to Books and Browsing

Cara/Andrea here, grumbling a little about change.

Now don’t get me wrong—I’m a big believer in change . . . as in change is a Good Thing. Change is, after all, an organic part of growth, both physical and intellectual. It can challenge us, delight us, surprise us . . . and yes, it can often frustrate us too. As in many aspects of life, the key is balance. It’s often a fine line between clinging to the past and embracing the future.

Now, you are probably wondering where I’m going with this. Well, it’s a prologue of sorts. A setting of the scene, if you will, since we’re going to be talking about books. And the scene finds me walking up Madison Avenue in New York City, on my way to meet a friend at the Metropolitan Museum of Art to see the visiting exhibit on Renaissance Portraits. I was doing my usual City Stride—a fast-paced gait designed to go from here to there without any wasted effort. (New Yorkers will know what I mean.) However, as I was cruising up the west side of the avenue, I stopped in my tracks between 81st and 82nd Street, my gaze snared by a certain shop window. No, it wasn’t a chic little black dress or antique jewels that caught my eye (though I wouldn’t mind strolling into Antiquarium, a wondrous store located a few blocks south, and buying a few baubles.)

It was a bookstore—an independent bookstore that has been a landmark in the area for years. Crawford & Doyle offers an eclectic mix of bestsellers and more esoteric titles chosen by the knowledgeable book-loving staff, as well as signed first editions, mostly by 20th century literary luminaries. Every time I’m in the area, I spend a goodly amount of time dawdling on the sidewalk studying the displays.

Book, books, books! Shops like Crawford & Doyle remind me of how important browsing is to an avid reader. Oh, look! City of Fortune—I hadn’t known about that book on the history of Venice. It looks fascinating. Scribble, scribble. The title and author get written down on a scrap of paper. Hmmm, the book on the Stuarts looks intriguing too. As for Catherine the Great, it's already at the top of my TBR list.

And then there are the signed first editions of Tom Wolfe and J. D. Salinger. Ah, well, a girl can dream. C&D also displays children’s books, and a wonderful assortment of visual volumes—gardens, graphic design, theatre arts, country homes. All works that inspire the imagination.

(Thankfully in New York City there are still a number of quirky independent bookstores offering more than the standard array of recently released bestsellers—I kept my eye open on the way home and snapped a few shots, which you see here.)

I’ve discovered some of my now-favorite authors by walking through my local brick-and-mortar bookstore (now, alas, closed) and perusing the tables heaped with “New Fiction” or “New History.” Maybe I’m a hopeless romantic, but there’s something in the tactile experience of picking up a book, studying the cover, flipping the pages, reading the back blurb that creates a connection between me and the story . . . sometimes it’s that odd tingle that takes hold of the fingertips. Buy me—you won’t regret it.

As I said, I believe in embracing change. I have a Kindle and find it very useful for travel and train rides. I shop online for books. But the magic isn’t there. It’s more a straightforward shopping experience—like buying kitchen cleaners or light bulbs—and works best when I know exactly what I want. Browsing is frustrating online. Hey, I don’t KNOW what I want! I want to be seduced by the look and the feel of a book. I want its blurb to whisper to me . . . I’m the one.

I miss my bricks and mortar bookstores and fervantly hope that they will make a come-back.

What about you? Are you like me and love the physical experience of browsing for books in a real store? Do you still have one close by to visit? Or do you find the buying of books online works just fine?

Science vs Superstition

Pat stopping by today, to ponder how time changes our perceptions.

My Magic series begins in the mid 1750’s, at a time when science wasn’t clearly defined. Today’s Websters defines science as “the state of knowing: knowledge as distinguished from ignorance or misunderstanding.” At Dictionary.com it’s defined as “a branch of knowledge or study dealing with a body of facts or truths systematically arranged and showing the operation of general laws.”  I believe in high school I learned science was based on observation and proof from repeated experimentation, or some such.

But in the first Encyclopedia Britannica from 1770, science was defined as “in philosophy, denotes any doctrine, deduced from self-evident and certain principles, by a regular demonstration.”

Self-evident? It’s evident there are white glittering objects in the night sky, and those objects change with the season, but does that make astrology a science? Sure, as a Leo, born under the late July stars, I dress flamboyantly and display leadership qualities like Mae West, Jacqueline Kennedy, and Napoleon, but does that serve as “regular demonstration” that astrology is knowledge?

How fine is the line between superstition and science, astrology and astronomy, alchemy and chemistry? We don’t teach phrenology today, but some of the Victorian precepts led to today’s medical science of neurology. It sounds like ridiculous superstition to believe light particles know what is ahead and will adjust their behavior accordingly—leading to speculation about the time/space continuum and time travel—but this is one of the basic principles behind quantum physics. Warping time and space might warp my mind, so the theory impresses me about as much as astrology. But Newton figured out gravity from a falling apple and no one believed him either.

Which, of course, brings us to my psychic Malcoms. Are telekinesis, telepathy, and other so-called parnormal phenomena really superstition or have we just been put off by the bad rep and not applied sufficient scientific study? It’s been proven that animals have a higher order of smell and dogs can sniff the odor of cancer, so why is it so impossible to believe that some humans might have a highly developed sense of smell? And the army and computer geeks are working with human brain waves to control computers, is it so far-fetched to take that another step and believe there are human minds that can detect those electron patterns and literally read minds? And we’ve already located the brain receptors that respond to the ‘love” hormone oxytocin and proven some people are more empathic than others. Who is to say some people can’t read far more of emotion than others? Empaths, anyone?

Of course, the number of people who might be able to perform these feats are so far outnumbered by charlatans and scam artists that incredulity is stretched, but that doesn’t mean psychic phenomena are impossible. It just means that like phrenology eventually led to neurology, and alchemy gave way to the proven scientific precepts of chemistry, we just need more time and study.

It’s a pity my Malcolms are fictional. I’d love to see more psychics step forward to be studied, in hopes that one day we’ll be able to use our brains for better purposes than watching television. If you had one psychic ability, what would you like it to be? I believe I might have a copy of THE LURE OF SONG AND MAGIC left to give away to any creative commenters.

And as a reminder, I have a complete list of my reissued backlist e-books at www.backlistebooks.com/ and if you want to support a lot of great authors in their effort to build a better on-line store, look for my new material at www.bookviewcafe.com/  Michael’s book will be there in July!