Word Wenches

How are you reading these days?

by Mary Jo

I’m been ruminating on how many different ways we can consume books these days.  There’s classic print, of course, still a favorite for many readers, including me.  I like being able to flip through the pages and read in the bathtub without worrying about dropping an e-reader into the water, with expensive consequences.

Traditional Print:

Heck, I bought my present house because I’d run out of space for bookshelves in my former townhouse.  Now I’m running out of space in this place, and I don’t have the energy to move again, so I need to get better at thinning the herd!  (Those aren't actually my bookshelves, but you get the idea.)

As a writer, there are the books I have as a reader—tons of fiction in multiple genres, and I hate getting rid of anything I might read again, and who knows what I might want to reread? Plus, there are books written by friends that I cherish.  A lot of books. <G>

Then there are the research—or potential research—books that I buy as a writer, and I don’t want to get rid of them, either.  Part of it is sheer packrat-itis, but even in the days of the internet, there are times when a book will give you more of the detail a story needs than anything you’ll find online. 

Plus, print books last well.  Even mass market paperbacks can be readable for decades.  There’s no need to worry that the software or the distribution platform will change or fail and you’ll lose all the e-books you’ve bought.

E-books:

But the space advantages of an e-reader are hard to ignore.  Hundreds of books on one little device the size of a single book!  E-readers are great for travel because you can get so many books on them.  If I’m going on a trip of a week or more, by the time I pack my books and all the electronics I need, there is no room left for clothes, so an e-reader is a blessing. 

But they have their downside. Flying home from Rome to Washington, DC several years ago, my Nook ran out of charge halfway across the Atlantic.  I can’t really blame the device—I knew it was running rather low, but I hadn’t been able to recharge it before leaving Italy.  Luckily, I had a print book on the airplane to read for the rest of the trip.

Another great blessing of e-books is that they make older books that have gone out of print available again.  I love reading books I hadn’t been able to find, and I love that my own backlist titles are available for anyone who might be interested.

E-editions also make all kind of play projects avail.  Wenches Susan King and Pat Rice and I decided it would be fun to do an e-book anthology of three Christmas novellas that have been unavailable for years.  So Christmas Roses will be available in September. 

I’m also one of a small group of writers who chat back and forth daily.  When we realized that several of us had done cat short stories, someone suggested that it might be nice to do an anthology of pet stories with proceeds to go to charity.  The Sound and the Furry is just out in e-book and POD editions, and the picture on the cover is my sweet Fluffster, who made her transition before last Christmas at a fairly advanced age.  She was a very photogenic lady.

The anthology is fun and furry <G>, and the dozen authors are from the US, the UK, Canada, and Australia.  A nice global spread, so the charity we chose is the IFAW, the International Fund for Animal Welfare.  There are no end of the interesting things that can be done with e-publishing!

Print on Demand:

There’s also Print on Demand (POD) which enables people who prefer to read print to buy a print version of a book that is primarily available in e-editions.  Each book is printed basically to order--there are no print runs or cartons of the book in a warehouse. 

POD books are large paperbacks and the pricing is similar to what conventional trade paperbacks cost.  I just released a POD edition of my bestselling e-book,Thunder and Roses.  I don’t expect to sell many, and there is much less profit than on an e-book, but that’s okay—I just want my readers to be able to get print if they prefer.  We played with the formatting to get the price as affordable as possible while still being readable.  (It’s not a large print edition, though.) 

Audiobooks:

And then there’s reading that is actually listening.  Everything I’ve mentioned so far is really just formats for reading things with our eyes, but audio is a different game entirely.  I know several people, including our Word Wenches whipmistress, Sherrie Holmes, who “read” most of their books in audio form.  There are a lot of reasons for doing this, including eye problems and long commutes

It used to be super-cool for an author to have audiobooks made of her stories—it was one of the signs of career growth.  Most of my books published in the last sixteen years have audio versions, which has been great. But I’ve also received queries from people who would like audio editions of earlier books. 

Well, audio is another area where the walls are being kicked down, and not surprisingly, Amazon is leading the way, as they did with e-books.  Their ACX.com (Audio Creation Exchange) subsidiary is basically a platform where anyone can do audio books relatively easily, and then have them distributed to Audible (another Amazon subsidiary), Amazon, and I think iTunes. 

It’s a great site to explore, with over 11,000 narrator/producers listed.  You can search for narrator by genre, gender, accent, style and price.  However, while formatting for POD is not very expensive, audio production is pricey: narrators are highly skilled professionals.  Many are trained actors, and even among actors, not everyone has the gift for storytelling and interpreting different voices and characters. Talent commands a good price, and that’s as it should be. 

I’m in the process of producing my first indie audiobook, and again I’m choosing Thunder and Roses because of its popularity.  Currently I’m looking for a narrator and I’ve received several good auditions. A major factor in choosing a narrator is how well they do voices of both genders.

The legendary Laura Kinsale is now producing audiobooks of her backlist, and she’s found the most amazing narrator, an English actor called Nicholas Boulton.  He sounds exactly the way a Regency hero ought to!  The best narrators have fans would be happy to listen to them read the phone book. <G>

So—how do you like your books?  Are you a hybrid reader, or faithful to one format?  What books might you like to see in a different format?  And what formats might we see in the future?  There's film, but that's so expensive it's not even worth talking about. <G>

Mary Jo, mostly faithful to print, but not above flirting elsewhere

PS: Happy Canada Day to our Canadian readers!

 

Guest Louise Allen

This coming Wednesday, July 3, Jo Beverley will interview returning Honorary Word Wench Louise Allen.

(Picture copyright Mills and Boon)

Louise's new book, Walking Jane Austen's London, a Tour Guide for the Modern Traveller, is the catalyst for the interview--Louise will talk about the sights, the sounds, the smells of London, along with her special insights. Do drop by for a visit! We'd love to see you!

But wait, there's more! On Friday, July 26 Susan King will interview fellow Wench Nicola Cornick regarding the release of Nicola's latest, The Lady and the Laird. Mark your calendars. Get out your party duds. Come join the fun!

What We're Reading in June

Joanna here, talking about the books we're reading this month.

It's been a humid, rainy June up in my mountains.  I am overwhelmed by the beauty of it, with mist everywhere and deer coming out of the woods to eat the grass I just had mowed.  They like all that juicy, tender, new growth. 

On the free time front, I was harassed by deadlines and by all the little ills the flesh is heir to.  I learned, for instance, that it takes a team of men and a huge, noisy, orange machine three days to fix a well pump.  Who knew?  Also, if your car gets old enough, the repairs cost more than the car is worth.  

Did I mention I haz deadlines?
So I didn't get any particular amount of reading done, but instead watched my To Be Read pile grow like summer weeds.

I am rich in books, but I have no time to read them.  I am an object lesson in book misering and literary greed.
So what did I read?

From Grace Burrowes, who writes such warm, appealing characters, Lady Maggie's Secret Scandal. This is another of her infallible cheer-me-up books.  Right up there with Julia Quinn.  Beautiful and funny.

I also indulged myself in Ilona Andrews' Fate's Edge, Book Three in 'The Edge' Series.  Just to be contrary, I'll say that if Andrews is a new-to-you writer, I suggest starting with her Magic Bites. 
When I read that series I'm always saying to myself, "Like cats much?"

I also returned to an old favorite, Mary Jo Putney's The Bargain.  David Lancaster is one of my favorite heroes -- brave, warm-hearted, straightforward.

What can I say?  I think my character Grey has some of David Lancaster in him. 

 

Mary Jo herself picks a couple winners.  She says:

I’m currently reading Letters from Backstage: The Adventures of a Touring Stage Actor  by Michael Kostroff. 

Michael Kostroff was a reasonably successful TV actor in Los Angeles, but his long held dream was to appear in a big, splashy Broadway show, so when the opportunity arrived to join the first national tour of The Producers, he leaped on it gladly.  Kostroff is also a freelance writer, so his e-mails from the road to his friends were so much fun that they urged him to put them together into a book.  This is that book.  Besides being delightful to read, it does something I love in a book: it takes me in a new world in a compelling and believable way.  I have zero interest in touring with a theater company (not to mention zero talent <G>), but it was fascinating to read about.

In the fiction category, I was happy to see that The Mad Earl’s Bride,, a longish novella by Loretta Chase, is now available in an e-edition.  

Originally published in 1995 in the Three Weddings and a Kiss anthology, it has long been a favorite story of mine, and downloading it to my Nook was easier than digging the anthology out of the basement.  <G>  The story is a spin-off from Loretta’s much loved Lord of Scoundrels, and for a description, it’s hard to beat the blurb:

Gwendolyn Adams is about to propose to an earl. On his deathbed.

Gwendolyn Adams isn't shocked at being asked to save a handsome earl's dying line, even when she learns the prospective bridegroom is seriously ill and possibly insane. She's quite a good nurse, after all, and her family is famous for producing healthy male children. Those stories about his riding the moors half-naked on a pale white horse? Extremely intriguing—especially after she gets her first look at the gorgeous lunatic.

The Earl of Rawnsley wants only to lose what's left of his mind in peace and privacy. But his busybody relatives have saddled him with a surprise bride and orders to sire an heir forthwith. (And they say he's mad?) But with Gwendolyn, his health is returning, and his resistance ... crumbling. Is it possible that love is the finest madness of all?

 

 

Nicola brings us one of those serendipitous discoveries.  I love it when this happens.  She says:

 

I was visiting family and spotted a book called Arabian Sands by Wilfred Thesiger, which I promptly borrowed. Thesiger was a famous explorer who was born in Ethiopia and educated in England. He made his first expeditions in the 1930s so his books are not only a record of travels to exotic places but also a period of history that is now long gone. Arabian Sands is about a journey to the "empty quarter" of Arabia.

 

I first became fascinated with the "empty quarter" when I read The Singing Sands, one of the wonderful Inspector Grant series, by Josephine Tey. The hunt for the fabled lost city of Wabar seemed impossibly romantic and still inspires a frisson of excitement in me now. Unfortunately when I got Arabian Sands home my husband said: "That looks interesting" and promptly started to read it before me!

 

Fiction-wise, a fellow member of the Bath and Wiltshire Chapter of the RNA recommended You Had Me At Hello by Scots author Mhairi McFarlane. I'm waiting for my copy to arrive. The blurb says: "What happens when the one that got away comes back?" I'm looking forward to finding out!

 

And Joanna breaks in here to add another huzzah for Thesiger.  Just a fascinating book.  I read it when I was headed out for Saudi Arabia.  I'd also recommend Sir Richard Francis Burton's Arabian travel writing which you can find here at the wonderful University of Adelaide site. 

 

Cara/Andrea has this to say --
(She's recommending two of my reliably favorite authors, by the way)

 

 

 

I've been wrestling with starting a new book, and in the process of beginning to get to know the characters (and, um, figure out the plot) I tend to be reading a little less than usual. That said, I've been unable to put down A Spear of Summer Grass by Deanna Raybourn.

 

It's set in 1920s Kenya, and paints a beautifully evocative portrait of the era, and a quirky cast of restless souls exploring the boundaries of their own selves as they search for meaning in life. Africa—brutal and beautiful—is a metaphor for a world turned upside down by the Great War.

 

Many of you may know Deanna's Lady Julia series, which is also wonderful—the "heroine" here is equally compelling and the first person POV is so well done.

You have to love a book that begins:

  

Don't believe the stories you have heard about me. I have never killed anyone, and I have never stolen another woman's husband. Oh, if I find one lying around unattended, I might climb on, but I never took one that didn't want taking. And I never meant to go to Africa. 
 

I highly recommend it.

 

I've also grabbed up Midnight At Marble Arch, Anne Perry's latest book in her Thomas and Charlotte Pitt mystery series. I'm a big fan . . . but it's going to have to wait for a bit!

 

Moving right along . . .

Anne says:

I'm madly trying to finish a book, and though most people would imagine that reading would be set aside at such a time, for me, reading is a necessary part of unwinding and refreshing my brain.

 

I've been continuing my glom of Deborah Crombie's crime novels and I'm on #10 at the moment, In a Dark House. I'm reading them in order, because I like the ongoing development of the relationship between the two protagonists, Duncan Kinkaid and Gemma James.

 

Some romance writers don't read romance while they're writing, and I must confess I hesitated before picking up this next book, because Mary Balogh is so darned good her books can be depressing for someone in not-yet-finished-the-book mode. But I succumbed and thoroughly enjoyed her latest book, The Proposal. Sometimes it's good to be reminded why I fell in love with this genre in the first place.

I've also been browsing through A Writer's Book of Days, by Judy Reeves. She encourages people to meet daily (or regularly at least) and write for 15 minutes using random writing prompts. I don't do that, but it would be interesting, I think, to try.

 

I enjoy books about writing, and often find they stimulate me, as well as reminding me of things I know, but sometimes forget about. I'm taking a writing class that starts next month -- four Sundays over four months -- and I like to bring in a range of craft-of-writing books for the students to browse through.

 

 

So there you have it -- That's what we were reading; what we liked; what made us think; what brought us joy.

 

What about you?  Did you read anything recently that lifted your heart or challenged your mind? 

Or, you know, just made you smile a little?

Christina Brooke and the Secrets of a Scoundrel!

Cara/Andrea here,
Today I’m welcoming back my good friend Christina Brooke, and for all of you who have ever asked an author, “how do you come up with the ideas for your stories,” she has some fun stories to share about her latest book, LONDON’S LAST TRUE SCOUNDREL, which releases next week. Christina, a RITA Finalist last year in the Regency category, writes wickedly witty and passionate stories—and if you haven’t read her, you are in for a treat. So without further ado, I shall pass the pen to her!

Hello, everyone and thank you to the lovely Cara Elliott and all of the Wenches for having me here today.

When I’m among history buffs, I like to share a little inspiration for my novels in the way of some research tidbit that sparked an idea for a story.

However, LONDON’S LAST TRUE SCOUNDREL came about not because a piece of interesting research but because my editor came up with the title and emailed me, telling me I HAD to use it. This would be the beginning of a hero-centric series, a spin off from the Ministry of Marriage books, featuring the male cousins of the Westruther clan.

Those who are familiar with the Ministry of Marriage will know that Beckenham was due to have his story next. In fact, when my editor came up with this great title, I was already half way through the draft with about two months left until my deadline.

The problem was that Beckenham could not ever, by any stretch of the imagination, be termed a scoundrel. So I did something incredibly foolhardy that ended up working very well. I told my editor I would write a completely new book, featuring a fourth cousin I had intended to write further down the track. Jonathon, the Earl of Davenport.

Jonathon is everything the novel’s title implies, though some might say he has ample reason for his recklessness.

Having chosen my hero, I needed a heroine, and I selected one from the rough, ramshackle deVere family, a young lady who was determined to rise above her vulgar origins and reach the pinnacle of success by attaining vouchers Almack’s. Of course, in the end we see that what Hilary truly wants is to belong, but Almack’s becomes a symbol for that longing.

The book was a lot of fun to write even though I had so little time to write it (in the end it was more like four months than two) and I drew on inspiration from a number of sources, including the British television series, COUNTRY HOUSE RESCUE.

If you haven’t seen it before, you should buy, beg borrow or steal it from somewhere. The presenter of the program, Ruth Watson, has experience turning tumbledown country estates into thriving concerns. Each week, she visits a particular family and advises them how they can save their homes and turn them into self-sustaining and even profitable enterprises. There is a new host now and I haven’t seen his programs yet, but I admired Ruth’s ability to drive to the heart of the matter and tell these families some hard truths.

Solutions range from turning great houses into B&Bs to garden displays and tea houses. Every solution is tailored to the strengths and inclinations of the house and the people who live there.

At Riverhill, in Sevenoaks, Kent, an ancestor had been a botanist and brought back many rare plants from the Himalayas. The present owner’s wife was a school teacher and she had the wonderful idea of creating a “Himalayan Adventure” for school children in the woods, complete with Yeti sightings. They were such a delightful, hard-working family, it was such a pleasure to see their hard work and enthusiasm pay off.

Then there was Anselm Guise, whose family had come over with the Conqueror and been granted land at Elmore in Bedfordshire in 1262. As he stood in a rather somber dining hall surrounded by portraits of his ancestors, you could see a distinct resemblance!

Anselm is extremely gregarious and his background is in event and festival planning. He seemed to have a lot of friends who pursued an alternative lifestyle, memorably turning his drawing room into a repository for seedling pots at one stage as they assisted him to bring the estate into order. Ruth returned in one episode to find the kitchens he and his friends were supposed to be cleaning full to brimming with empty bottles from a hedonistic party the night before.

However, Anselm’s energy and passion won through, along with his success in finding an extremely capable (and wealthy?) wife. They aim to return the estate to its former productive self-sufficiency with a kitchen garden and cookery school where students can take produce from the soil to the table.

As death taxes and the dwindling resources of families who own these magnificent houses have taken their toll, many houses have fallen into shocking disrepair. Many had simply closed rooms as they crumbled, living in a very small part of the house so as to keep maintenance and heating costs down.

It was the remark of one such family that brought me to write perhaps the most memorable scene in LONDON’S LAST TRUE SCOUNDREL. They said they were walking past a disused wing of the house one day, looked in the window, and saw that the ceiling was on the dining room table. They wondered how long it had been there.

My heroine, Hilary deVere, comes from a family who spends their money on horses and hunting rather than their house. So when Lord Davenport stays over night and his ceiling falls in on top of him as he lies wakeful, plotting how he will seduce our fair heroine, she runs to the rescue:

A sound like the rumble of thunder made Hilary start awake from her drowse. Disoriented, she glanced toward the window. A masculine shout made her realize that the thunder had come from inside the house.
   “Oh, no!”
   She leaped out of bed and flew into the corridor. The commotion had come from the guest bedchamber.
   She hurried toward it and wrenched open the door.
   There, stark naked with his back to her, in the midst of a pile of ceiling plaster and debris, stood Lord Davenport.
   Hilary’s jaw dropped.
   He was covered from head to toe in grayish-white plaster dust. He looked like a statue of a Greek god as he surveyed the wreckage, one hip negligently cocked. A David, a colossus still standing proud and tall through the sacking of Rome…

I had a lot of fun with that scene!

While COUNTRY HOUSE RESCUE is entertainment, it’s also invaluable in picking up snippets of family history, stories of achievements and eccentricities and simply the way one lives in an enormous house with a grand estate. Of course, much has changed over the centuries since the Regency period in which I write, but human nature being what it is, there are a lot of quirks and customs that may be extrapolated to my books.

So, do you enjoy watching period dramas, documentaries, reality shows about your favorite historical eras? What are your favorites?

One lucky reader will be chosen at random from those who leave a comment between now and Thursday evening to win a copy of LONDON’S LAST TRUE SCOUNDREL!

Interview: Jayne Entwistle, Audiobook Narrator

Susan here ~ and I'm so excited today to introduce our very special guest, Jayne Entwistle, audiobook narrator and actress.

The first time I heard Jayne's narrative voice was in her reading of Alan Bradley's The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. I loved the book, and then had a chance to listen to the audiobook--and I was captivated by Jayne's amazing talent. 

Since then, I've listened to all of Jayne's recordings of the books in the wonderful Flavia de Luce series. Each time, I'm completely enchanted and thoroughly entertained -- whether I've read the book previously or it's a fresh listen.

Part of that delight is due to Alan Bradley's fabulous Flavia, a wonderful character--an 11-year-old genius, she's brilliant, mischievous, imaginative, whimsical and innocent--and part is due to Jayne Entwistle's exceptional, equally whimsical and beautifully nuanced readings. In any book she narrates, regardless of the author, Jayne brings the characters and stories to vivid, immediate life. 

A little about Jayne:

Originally from Blackpool, England, Jayne Entwistle  is an award-winning voice over (VO) actress. Her credits include a recurring role on "Desperate Housewives," a co-star on "Big Love," and a supporting role in the feature film Holy Ghost People. She has narrated over a dozen audiobooks for Random House, including the popular Flavia De Luce series by Alan Bradley, two Sophie Kinsella books -- I've Got Your Number and Kinsella's new release, Wedding Night - and the Arthur Slade series, The Hunchback Assignments. Jayne has won multiple AudioFile Earphones awards for her audio performances, and she can be seen and heard in commercials worldwide.

If you haven't yet heard Jayne Entwistle's narration, you're in for a treat. Here are some samples of her work (the links will open the Random House pages for these books; click on the "audio" buttons to listen to the audio clips).

The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley

I Am Half-SIck of Shadows by Alan Bradley

I've Got Your Number by Sophie Kinsella

                And now let's talk to Jayne!  

Susan: Welcome to Word Wenches, Jayne!  Thank you so much for visiting with us. How did you become an audiobook narrator? You're also an actress, so you must be very busy!

Jayne Entwistle:  When I moved to Los Angeles from San Francisco, I had some voice over experience but I wanted certain VO skills and experiences that would lead to more work. Narration was a skill I would see listed all the time in the breakdowns (audition notices) so I started scouring Craigslist for student projects that would provide me with that experience.

I saw an audition notice on Craigslist looking for a native of the UK who was both an actress and a voice over artist, someone who could effectively portray an 11 year old girl. Thinking I was responding to a student ad, I left a voice message. The following morning Janet Stark, Random House Producer and Director of the first two Flavia books, called asking me to come in immediately.When I arrived at the huge Books on Tape/Random House facility, I was shocked and terrified. This was no student gig! I did the audition and was immediately hooked on The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. I secretly hoped I would book the job just so I could finish reading the book!

Narrating audiobooks is the one of the best jobs I have ever had -- and to think I found it on Craigslist! Janet later told me that they had never advertised on Craigslist as they have a strong talent pool but Flavia was such a unique character, they needed to look farther afield. In regard to being busy, Los Angeles is an odd duck -- when it rains it pours with work but then, being the desert it is, things can dry up in a flash. Never have I had to practice letting go and riding an unpredictable current like I have here.

Susan:  You sound as if you're having so much fun when you read the Flavia books. You and Flavia are a match made in heaven. What do you like best about narrating Alan Bradley's books?

Jayne:  Oh my goodness, where do I start? I fell in love with Flavia in the first sentence! I couldn’t put the book down, often forgetting “this is work!” When I read anything, be it work or not, I get absorbed into the World of the book. I see every landscape, every detail. It plays out before me like a movie. Alan Bradley’s writing is exquisitely rich. The characters and worlds he creates are so vivid that I don’t feel I am just reading them, I’m living them.

Flavia is wickedly smart, precocious, inquisitive, stubborn and hilarious. She makes me laugh and, especially with the last two books, makes me cry. Sometimes I will be at the store, day dreaming in the cheese aisle (I love cheese!) wondering how Mrs. Mullet is doing when I am disappointed to remember that she doesn’t really exist. I feel relieved when I open a new Flavia book, settle back into Bishops Lacy and feel like, “Hello old friends, Oh how I’ve missed you!”

Susan:  Can you tell us something about your process for narrating a book? Do you record in a studio or in a set-up at home? Do you read the books first and work out what to do? And how do you keep track of all the accents and voice variations that you do?

Jayne:  The turnaround time for narration is fairly quick. Once the “approved for recording” draft is sent to me, I only have time to read the book once through. I love love love to read, so getting that manuscript delivered to my door is thrilling. I pack up my various highlighters, pencils and notebooks and settle myself into a coffee shop where there are ironically less distractions.

Jayne recording in the studio.

I highlight in the manuscript where a character first appears and then mark it in a notebook so I can easily reference that character. I also highlight any words I don’t know how to pronounce. My lists are very long with the Alan Bradley books. First, there are all the scientific terms I haven’t a clue at how to pronounce. Then there are the numerous references to musicians, wars, artists, scientists, historical events. The Crimean War, for example. Not a word I typically bandy about. Flavia is decidedly smarter than I am! I’m learning, however. I now know a thing or two about arsenic!

We record in a studio at the Random House facility. Each book is assigned a Producer/Director who not only handles the technical aspect of recording the sessions but also takes their own notes, researches words, liaises with the authors and provides direction. In regards to the various accents and characters, I practice voices out loud in the car and this being L.A, there is ample opportunity for that. Some of the characters talk out of a certain part of their mouth. Mr. De Luce sits up ram-rod straight with his hand on his left knee. Daphne De Luce sucks in her cheeks and bites down on her tongue. Mrs. Mullet talks out of the front of her mouth which is where Northerners tend to speak from whereas other characters pull their mouths down at the sides to give it that aristocratic feel.

Susan:  I love your descriptions of the characters! Are there some books you like to narrate and some you don't care to do? And what would be your dream narration assignment -- something you would love to read in audio?

Jayne:  I haven’t met an audiobook I didn’t like. I tend to like the books that have rich and varied characters. The Hunchback Assignments by Arthur Slade were challenging and the stories were gripping. I loved being on the dark side of Victorian England. I did two books in the series and wanted them to keep going forever.

I imagine I would be well challenged by a non-fiction book as I couldn’t rely on characterization but would have to pay more attention to delivery, tone and evenness of speech.

Susan:  What are some of your favorite books? Do you prefer reading, or do you listen to audiobooks yourself? (And do you read passages out loud when you're reading for pleasure?)

Jayne:  I usually only read fiction. I had my fill of non-fiction in graduate school. Some of my favourite authors are Ann Patchett, Kent Haruf, Kate Morton, Salman Rushdie and Annie Proulx. I need to have that book in my hand as opposed to hearing it. I like historical fiction and I read some historical romance, too. I love to learn some truths about the world while being transported into a fictitious world at the same time.

I read voraciously as a child, inhaling books like Nancy Drew. I was inconsolable at the end of  Heidi, feeling as if I had lost a best friend. I remember sobbing into my pillow with my poor Dad trying to assure me that Heidi would be fine even though the book was over. I credit this love of reading at an early age with my ability to narrate audiobooks now. And yes, I will read passages out loud because I love literature and language and the melody of words and well . . . my own voice!

Susan:  What's your next narration project? (I can't wait to hear it!)

Jayne:  I never know what projects are on the horizon. I am usually pleasantly surprised by the sudden announcement of a new book for me to narrate. The one book I am waiting for with bated breath is The Dead in their Vaulted Arches, the sixth book in the Flavia de Luce series!

When I first moved to Los Angeles, I told my friends with almost a sense of heartbreak that, “I just want to read. Oh, if only I could get paid to do that!” They teased me for being so dramatic. As hokey as it sounds, it really has been a dream come true!

Susan: A dream come true and a dream job - it doesn't get much better than that in the working world. Jayne, it's so fascinating to chat with you. Thank you for visiting the Word Wenches! 

Do you all listen to audiobooks? Are you a fan of Alan Bradley's mysteries, Sophie Kinsella, Arthur Slade -- and Jayne Entwistle's narrations?

Most of us who hang around this blog cannot live without books -- and I know some of you cannot live without audiobooks either. I'm listening to audiobooks more often than I used to, now that I've discovered the fun of Jayne's readings.

Questions and comments welcome!  :)

Upcoming Guests

Attention audiobook fans: On Monday, June 24, Susan King will interview audiobook narrator Jayne Entwistle. Jayne narrates the popular Alan Bradley Flavia de Luce mystery series, and has won multiple AudioFile Earphones awards for her stand-out performances.

Then on Wednesday, June 26, Cara Elliott/Andrea Penrose will interview historical writer Christina Brooke, a former lawyer who staged a brilliant escape from the corporate world and landed squarely in Regency England.

We know you'll enjoy getting to know these two guests. We'll be serving virtual tea and biscuits, so do please drop by for two fun interviews and virtual refreshments!

Family Heirlooms

Anne here, racing in with a bit of a hasty post — sorry, but I'm staring down the barrel of a deadline and can think of nothing but the book. So I looked around me for inspiration and spotted a gift I recently received from a friend of mine's mother who makes the most beautiful quilts. That's it below — she knows I like bright colors, and asymmetrical designs and I love this quilt to bits. 

So today I'm talking about home-made heirlooms, keepsakes and family treasures, not necessarily valuable to anyone except ourselves, and often with a story attached. I'll start with a few of my own, and I hope you'll come in and share your own stories.

I have an Italian silk bedspread that was my great grandmother's guilty secret. She was of hardy pioneer stock, and spent weeks, often months on her own with her kids on the family farm in what we in Australia call "the bush" which really means the middle of nowhere, miles from anyone else. I don't know what her husband was doing — droving cattle maybe, or shearing sheep, or doing some other kind of work to help make ends meet, because this was the depression.

In those days the people of the outback rarely got to see a shop, or even travel to a town very often, but traders travelled through regularly, bringing their goods by camel; all kinds of things, practical good, but also pretty and frivolous things to tempt the hearts of the deprived outback women.

The story goes that one day this trader came by and Nana fell instantly in love — not with the man, but with an Italian silk bedspread he was carrying. Of course, she couldn't afford it, so off he went, and she tried not to think of the bedspread again. Until he came back another time, and showed her the bedspread again. It was very expensive, but this time not quite as expensive — the price was lower, because times were hard and nobody could afford it. It took three visits, months apart before Nana finally succumbed and bought the bedspread, using every penny she'd put aside from her egg and honey money. The story also goes that it was months before she confessed the extravagant purchase to her husband. He, of course, forgave her.

That's it in the picture above, a little faded and worn, and I probably should have ironed it before taking the photo. It might not even be silk, or Italian for all we know — those traders were pretty nifty salesmen— but it's a family treasure, nevertheless, because of the story. From all accounts Nana was a tough, no-nonsense kind of woman, and I love it that she had a secret craving for a little luxury and beauty in the hard life she led — and succumbed to it. And then hid it from her husband.

My mother took up patchwork late in life — she was a full time teacher all my life, and had no time for crafts until she retired. Then it was knitted throw rugs and patchwork quilts in all directions — every bed in the house was spread with patchwork designs and half-finished pieces. She made some beauties, but my favorite is the one where I can identify so many of the patches as coming from clothes my sisters and I once wore. The small hexagons of color recall all kinds of small milestones in our lives.

She was a great recycler my mum — and I do recall my very mixed feelings when she presented me with this knitted throw rug. It was lovely — even the plain-looking squares are beautifully textured with knitted patterning — but see that pretty claret wool that is the foundation of the color scheme? It was once my favorite jumper (pullover /sweater) but one day it mysteriously disappeared. Thanks, Mum, mystery solved.

I have piles of beautiful things made by my female forebears — beautifully embroidered tablecloths, tray cloths and placemats, delicate hankies with dainty crocheted edges, but me? Nothing. I enjoy making things but I'm. . . slapdash. Too impatient to do the intricate or time-consuming stuff. 

And I was never a knitter — it seemed to take forever, but I taught myself to crochet and made this rug when I was fifteen. We'd just moved to the city and I traveled by train and tram to school, so it was very easy to just pull out my wool and hook and work on one little square at a time. That's it, my sole crafty contribution to posterity. 

So what about you — do you have any family pieces with a story attached? Do you make things that you hope your descendants will treasure, or are you not the crafty type? Have you ever lashed out and bought something you couldn't really afford, just because it was beautiful? I'd love you to share your stories.

History Afloat!

Nicola here, back from a holiday sailing on the Norfolk Broads. The Broads is a vast area of connected rivers and lakes in the East of England and it has been a tourist destination since the 19th century. I’ve wanted to go sailing on the Broads since I read a book by Kathleen Fidler called “The Brydons on the Broads” when I was about 12 years old. The Brydons were a family who had lots of adventures but I remembered the story set on the Norfolk Broads in particular because it involved the children seeing a ghost ship and finding a secret Broad. Exciting! One of the special things about the Norfolk Broads is that when you are there, the atmosphere is so strong you can really imagine this happening. There are all sorts of secret little waterways with sailing boats slipping silently by. A kingfisher will flash past flying along the river and disused windmills stand sentinel over the reed beds. It’s a magical landscape.

 

A Brief History

The Norfolk Broads look like a natural phenomenon but they are manmade. From the 9th century people cut the peat in the area to use as fuel for heating and cooking. This was a major industry until the 14th century but when sea levels began to rise the water filled the holes created by the peat cutting and formed a series of lakes, the Broads. In the 16th Century, Norwich was England’s second largest city after London and it was very convenient to have a network of waterways to transport wool and agricultural produce for export. For several hundred years Norfolk wherry ships were an iconic sight on the Broads. We saw several restored wherries that are still sailing today, including the one in the photo.

By the 18th century work was underway to drain the marshland of the Broads because it was becoming too flooded. It is from this time that we have the other iconic Broads image – the beautiful windmills that were used as drainage pumps. Some of these have been turned into houses. Others have fallen into ruin. Most are extremely photogenic!

By the 19th century the Broads was starting to be used for pleasure. Fishing was very popular as were the sailing “frolics,” the forerunners of regattas. During the Victorian and Edwardian era the Broads became a holiday destination for rich families seeking an “adventure” holiday! These days anyone can visit the Broads for an adventurous holiday afloat!

The Broads also have a connection to Horatio Nelson; his sister lived at Barton House in the village of Barton Turf. It felt pretty cool to be sailing on Barton Broad and thinking that Nelson had probably done the same thing!

St Benet’s Abbey

One of the places I was keen to visit was St Benet’s Abbey, a monastery founded before the Norman Conquest of 1066 and the only abbey in England that was not closed as part of Henry VIII’s Dissolution of the monasteries. There is a major archaeological project taking place to excavate St Benet’s. You can read about it here. In the 18th century a windmill was built into the ruins of St Benet’s gatehouse, which gives it the rather extraordinary appearance that it has today.

St Benet’s is a very atmospheric place so it is fitting that there are lots of ghost stories associated with the ruins. One refers to a monk called Brother Pacificus who can be seen rowing across the river in a small boat, accompanied by his dog. It is said that the wherrymen would refuse to moor overnight near the ruins of St Benet’s because they were afraid of the ghosts.

St Benet’s was also a very special place for us for finding a rare butterfly – not the very beautiful swallowtail, which we also saw, but a Wall Brown. This was first named in 1699 and referred to as “The golden marbled butterfly with black eyes.”

Fairhaven

There is a rather nice UK/USA connection at South Walsham, where we visited the Fairhaven Water Gardens. When we went there we discovered that Lord Fairhaven, who created the gardens, took his title from Fairhaven, Massachsetts, which was the place where the first Lord Fairhaven was born. The water gardens are stunning. They formed part of the South Walsham estate that Lord Fairhaven bought after the 2nd World War. The house and formal gardens had been used as a convalescent home and the woodland and water garden as a training ground for the home guard. Pleasure boats were sunk in the inner broad, which was also covered with barbed wire, to prevent German flying boat from landing. Tanks were hidden in the garden; some of the tank bays can be seen in the garden today. The house had fallen into disrepair and the garden had become a jungle. From this, Lord Fairhaven created the gorgeous woodland and water gardens that are there today.

How Hill

We also visited the thatched Edwardian mansion of How Hill, built initially as a holiday home for the Boardman family and another place with a gorgeous garden. How Hill looks the epitome of Edwardian luxury but in the grounds is a very different sort of building, a cottage of the type that a marshman and his family might live in. The cottage was built in about 1780 and was tiny. There was one main living room downstairs, a scullery, a larder and tool room. Upstairs were two bedrooms, one for the adults who shared it with the baby, and a room next door for the children (sometimes as many as seven in one tiny room). The cottage was thatched in sedge and reed, harvested on the Broads. Marshmen did all sorts of work, from operating and maintaining the drainage mills to cutting the hay, which was sent to London to feed the hackney carriage horses. They were also fishermen and they caught eels and shot duck and pheasant. It was a way of life lived mainly afloat. Transport was more likely to be by boat than on the roads or tracks and it struck me that this was completely different from the way that most people would have lived on the land in the Georgian/Regency period.

All this was a far cry from our boat, which was comfortable if not luxurious with a hot shower and four poster bed! But what was the same was that you get a very different perspective when travelling by water than you do on land. Roads disappear, as does any sense of distance and direction (at least it did for me!) Time seems to slow down (although maybe that is just the effect of being on holiday!)

At the wonderful Museum of the Broads I read up a lot more about the history of the Norfolk Broads.One of the boatmen we met commented that there wasn't much historical fiction that features the Norfolk Broads. This is surprising since it's such an evocative landscape and there is so much history to write about! I can feel a series coming on…

All this from a book that inspired me when I read it as a child! And knowing what voracious and wide-ranging readers we all are I wondered if there was a book you had read as a child - or as an adult - that inspired you to visit a particular place, and whether it lived up to the expectation when you went there?

Fashion, fun, and frolics

  Hi, Jo here, sharing a bit of fun and fashion. No, I'm not claiming that's me. Just another example of the 18th century look. Quite a young girl, but in her finery.

There's a place on line where anyone can make a 30 second video for free and I've been playing. Along the way today I found a couple of great fashion sites to play with.

I wanted to make a video that would alert people to Seduction in Silk, coming toward us rather faster than I'm prepared for. How can it be June already? Someone e-mailed me to remind me of something I'd promised to do in June and my first reaction was irritation that they were bugging me about it so early! Mind you, that could be the weather. How's your almost-summer?

The BBC is asking whether we should get a new name for the season. Bummer has been suggested. I favor scummer myself. Can you come up with a name for a dull, wet summer? I certainly hope you don't get one. But not excessive heatwaves, either.

Anyway, I made a video about a Georgian lady preparing for a ball. I hope you enjoy it.

Make a video of your own at Animoto.

Then I thought I'd should try the men's version. I couldn't find as good pictures, but it's still fun, IMO.

Try our slideshow creator at Animoto.

Along the way I came across this fabulous site of Georgian and other images. Do please explore. I'm sharing a couple here. Click on them to enlarge. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is a banjan, or dressing gown. The ones my heroes wear are often gorgeous, but not quite so flowery.

Now this is is, I'm sure, a heroine in disguise. You can even see her breasts!

I also revisited the V&A Museum's costume pages. Always interesting.

 To complete the fun -- hey, it's Sunday! -- I made a little Wench video.

Make your own slideshow with music at Animoto.

You can read an excerpt from Seduction in Silk here.

Also, if you're a Goodreads member it's #7 on the upcoming historical romances list. If you plan to buy it and click to say so, we could nudge it a bit higher.

May you enjoy fun and frolics of all kinds,

Jo

7th Anniversary Winners

Anne here, announcing the winners drawn from the comments on our 7th anniversary post. They are Liz V. from the USA, Sarah M. from Germany, and Valerie L. from Australia. I'll be contacting each you for a postal address. 

Thank you to all those who left comments. It was so heartwarming to see posts from so many of our long time wenchly readers, as well as relative newcomers. The wenchly community is a very special one, and we're delighted you keep coming back and contributing to the discussions.

Before I was a word wench I was a wenchly reader myself, and one of the things I always liked about the WordWench blog was the quality of discussion in the comments stream. I'm so pleased that's still going strong. Thank you all. 

 

AAW — Comfort reads

Anne here, hosting Ask-A-Wench for this month and today the question we're answering is "What are your 'comfort reads?' — the books you turn to when you're ill or tired, or it's a cold, wet, miserable day and you want to curl up with an 'old friend' of a book. This question sparked a conversation between the wenches, as we went back and forth talking of this writer and that.

In general, my comfort reads tend to be writers like Georgette Heyer and Eva
Ibbotson. I really enjoy plunging back into those familiar worlds and revisiting beloved characters. I still get a chuckle out of Ferdy and Gil and the Nemesis discussion in Friday's Child, or the Pel and Pom conversation in the street, followed by the search for Pom's aunt's brooch in The Convenient Marriage. 

I ache for the noble heroes in Eva Ibbotson's stories and cheer the heroines on, and smile knowingly to myself when Guy Farne arranges a proper haircut for the heroine in Magic Flutes, or Rupert in The Countess Below Stairs forbids Anna to cut her hair because he "must have something." It's all about subtext in those books.

I've also reread Linda Howard's McKenzie's Mountain a heap of times, Elizabeth Lowell's medievals and Amanda Quick/JAK's stories. But I also enjoy non-romantic reads, like Dick Francis's crime books — Whip Hand is a favorite, as is Decider, and also Risk — most of them, really. And occasionally I'll turn to P.G.Wodehouse or Terry Pratchett for a chuckle. I reread a lot — books for me are like old friends and I like to revisit those worlds and characters. 

Joanna said: When I'm troubled, I'll go to mysteries.  The intellectual puzzle and the certainty of a solution comfort me.  Agatha Christie.  Patricia Wentworth.  Dorothy Sayers.  Or any of the recent cozy mystery writers.  And C.S. Harris who writes mysteries set in the Regency period.  I also have a particular fondness for C.S. Lewis' Narnia series and the books set in the land of Oz.  Nothing really bad can happen in those countries.  Nora Roberts gives me this same assurance in her Romances, especially the fantasy, magical ones.  Sometimes we need a vacation from reality.

Cara/Andrea: I definitely have "go-to" comfort reads. Mary Stewart is a real favorite,  especially The Moonspinners and This Rough Magic. I also adore  Elizabeth Peters's Amelia Peabody series, with Crocodile on the Sandbank and Children of the Storm, my top picks. And then there is, of course, Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion always soothe the soul.

Anne poking nose in again:  Ohh, yes to Mary Stewart as a comfort read. My faves are Madam Will You Talk and Nine Coaches Waiting. I have a theory that every romance writer who's ever written a hero  called Raoul is a Mary Stewart fan. There are those of us who write Regency era where it's difficult, but  I suspect Joanna could fit in a Raoulish hero... And I adore Peabody and Emerson in Crocodile on the Sandbank.

Joanna jumped back in, saying: Yes, yes, yes! Mary Stewart is definitely a comfort read. I go for The Moonspinners and This Rough Magic. 

Susan agrees: My favorite comfort read by far is Mary Stewart -- though a favorite book within that group of favorites isn't easy to choose! Moonspinners, Wildfire at Midnight, My Brother Michael -- The Gabriel Hounds — I love them all. When I'm laid up with a cold or flu, or if I really need an escape, I go straight to the Mary Stewart shelf. As a reader I'm comforted, and as a writer, I learn something with every reading about lyricism, description, subtle characterization, and understated, compelling heroes.  

Other comfort reads — Elizabeth Peters/Barbara Michaels; Josephine Tey's Daughter of Time; Prince of Midnight by Laura Kinsale; and my comfort-classic is Jane Eyre.  A comfort read for me is a novel that brings back that first, fresh feeling of discovery and joy in story and voice, helping me feel good no matter what.

Mary Jo said: When I'm stressed out on deadline and need to read something familiar and beloved, my default is SFF:  Lois McMaster Bujold's Vorkosigan books, especially MEMORY, KOMARR, and A CIVIL CAMPAIGN.  Her CURSE OF CHALION — love, love, LOVE that story. 

Sharon Shinn's Thirteen Houses series, especially READER AND RAELYNX.  Catherine Asaro's Skolian series, especially SPHERICAL HARMONICS (which I just reread, as a matter of fact.)  All strong stories with strong characters and satisfying endings.    But reading all these comments is making me want to reach for a Mary Stewart!  It's been too long since I read MADAM, WILL YOU TALK....   and THE IVY TREE.  Sigh.....

Pat said: I'm probably not a good person for the comfort read blog. The only book I've ever re-read is Pride and Prejudice, because I read it first when I was very young and needed to refresh my memory. There are just way too many new books to drool over for me to be tempted to go back to something where I have some chance of remembering how it ends. 

Jo Beverley said: 
Comfort reads come in two categories for me. One is the old favourites that are 
guaranteed to take me to familiar content. Heyer is in there, and in a recent 
re-read I particularly enjoyed The Reluctant Widow. Like Mary Jo, some SF and fantasy fits. I too love Bujold's Curse of Chalion. My favourite Asaro is The Last Hawk. I have some Sharon Lee and Steven Miller favourites, and one of those is Local Custom. Very much a romance, and with characters struggling with rules and honor, which always appeals.

The other category is, well, categories. 
When I'm wanting both a new book and a comfort read, I'll go to the library and 
try a mystery. I think that's because they're an emotionally safer read. I 
avoid the sort of mystery writers -- too many of them these days IMO -- who 
want to explore the darkest aspects of the human psyche. I want a puzzle, a 
good range of characters, and a clever but convincing solution.

* Nicola is away on a well-deserved break, hopefully curled up somewhere lovely, possibly on a boat, with fine company and a good book.

So what about you? Are you are rereader of favorite books? Or is once mostly enough for you? What are your comfort reads? Let's share.

 

ARGO: How far can the truth be bent before it's too far?

by Mary Jo

The 2012 movie Argo was a critical and commercial success and won three Oscars, including for the best picture of 2012.  It’s based on the “Canadian Caper,” a real incident in which the Canadian Embassy in Tehran concealed six American fugitives who escaped when the American embassy was attacked and occupied in 1979 and most of the staff was taken hostage. 

After three months of hiding the fugitives at great personal risk, the Canadian ambassador, Ken Taylor, and his people got them out of Iran to safety.  In a dark time, this was a heart warming story, and Americans everywhere were saying, “Thank you, Canada!”

So it was good fodder for a movie, and ARGO was well made and very successful,  Ben Affleck directed, co-produced, and starred as Tony Mendez, a CIA “exfiltration” expert who specialized in getting people out of dangerous places.  (Mendez’s own book on his experiences was a major source for the script.) 

It’s always tricky making a movie of a recent event where everyone knows the outcome, as with APOLLO 13, but good storytelling can have the audience biting their nails even though they know what happens.  So I figured that the filmmakers probably exaggerated and shaped the events some to raise the tension level, and that’s okay. 

But I hit the wall when we were watching the movie and it was said that the Americans had been turned away by the British and the New Zealanders before ending up with the Canadian ambassador.   WAIT A MINUTE!!!  That does NOT sound like the Brits and Kiwis I know.  I frankly did not believe it. 

And I was absolutely right.  As soon as the movie was over, I went upstairs to my computer and did some quick research.  This from Wikipedia:

"Upon its release in October 2012, the film was criticized for its claim that British and New Zealand Embassies had turned away the American refugees in Tehran. This claim was incorrect, as neither the British or New Zealand Embassies had turned the refugees away. In fact, the embassies of both of those countries helped them, along with the Canadians. The British had initially hosted the American refugees, but the location was deemed to not be safe, and all involved countries considered the Canadian ambassador's residence to be a safer location. New Zealand diplomatic ambassadors also put themselves at huge risk while assisting – by organising a place for the refugees to hide if they needed to change their location,[43] and by driving the Americans to the airport when they made their escape from Tehran.[44] British diplomats also assisted other American hostages beyond the escaped group of six.[45] Bob Anders, the U.S. consular agent played in the film by Tate Donovan, said, "They put their lives on the line for us. We were all at risk. I hope no one in Britain will be offended by what's said in the film. The British were good to us and we're forever grateful."[46]"

Even the Canadians were undervalued because the movie basically chose to be a hero story focusing on the CIA guy.  President Jimmy Carter said that the Canadians did 90% of the heavy lifting. That included holding a secret session of the Canadian parliament to approve issue of six false Canadian passports for the fugitives, something that had never been done before. Talk about going above and beyond the call of duty! 

I do understand the need to shape the material to make a gripping movie, but how much is too much?  At the very least, the movie should have carried an apology to the Canadians, the British, and the New Zealanders.  Canadian Ambassador Ken Taylor himself listed a number of the film’s inaccuracies. 

Affleck said (again this is from Wikipedia): “I struggled with this long and hard, because it casts Britain and New Zealand in a way that is not totally fair. But I was setting up a situation where you needed to get a sense that these six people had nowhere else to go. It does not mean to diminish anyone.”

Maybe not, but given the power of film, this warped version of the truth can end up changing the public perception of what happened.  This troubles me.  A LOT.   

Authors often have to deal with similar questions in order to make a story work better.  This is why we have authors’ notes, to explain which parts of a story are true and which part are invented.  As a reader, I want to know that, so I figure many of my readers will feel the same.

How much license are we allowed in dealing with real history?  And is one factor how recent the events were?  It may be illogical, but I feel much more strongly about maintaining the truth of recent events. 

As a somewhat related sidebar, we just rewatched the most recent version of Alexandre Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo.  I read the book long, long ago, and it’s sprawling and complicated and full of poisonings and suicides and dark plots.  The recent version is stripped down to a much simpler, historical romance version.  I thoroughly enjoyed it—but there were a lot of changes from the original! 

Even though the recent movie was Monte Cristo Lite, I was willing to give it a pass because I enjoyed it, it was based on a novel, which is already fiction, and it was old. 

For Argo, I was willing to overlook a number of things the movie did to boost the tension, but I am offended by actions and words that damaged the honor of people and nations involved.  As I said, at the least there should have been a much better disclaimer at the end.

So what about you?  Are you bothered when movie makers distort the truth?  Are there examples of movies you hate because of this?  Are there other movies that largely got it right?  And how much does it matter if the subject is recent or old?

Mary Jo, pondering
 

Hats Off! (And On)

Cara/Andrea here,

It's summer season here in the States, and we're all thinking of beaches and sun  . . . which got me thinking about hats. Now, when we historical authors dress our Regency heroes for daily life, sunny or otherwise, only the best will do—boots by Hoby, coats by Weston, pistols by Manton . . . and, of course, hats by Lock & Co.

On my last trip to London, I spent a lot of time strolling along St. James’s Street, which for any Regency aficionado, is pure bliss. Many of the famous shops of the era are still there, including  Lock & Co. which is located at No. 6, sitting cheek to jowl with another legendary purveyor of gentlemanly staples—Berry Brothers and Rudd, the famous wine and spirits merchants. Part of No. 6 is still called “The Kiln” because a noted maker of ceramic figurines worked there before James Lock bought his freehold in 1764. (Another arcane but fun fact is that the emporium was built on the site of an old real tennis court constructed for Charles I.) Other neighbors are Truefitt and Hill for men’s grooming essentials, and White’s, the quintessential gentleman’s club.

Lock and Co. has a long and colorful history, as befits the oldest hat emporium in the world. (It’s also one of the oldest family-owned businesses.) And its illustrious client list includes Sir Winston Churchill, Charlie Chaplin and Princess Kate.

It was founded in 1676, when the Locks, a prosperous merchant family, moved to the western part of London after the Great Plague and Fire of 1666. They took up the freehold lese of seven houses on St. James’s Street, near St. James’s Palace—which to this day has remained the official royal residence of the sovereign of Great Britain, though Buckingham Palace has been used by the Royal family since Queen Victoria took up residence in 1837.) Their neighbor was Robert Davis, a hatter, and the two tradesmen families worked side by side for many years.

I n 1747, James Lock, the grandson of the original Lock patriarch was apprenticed to the Davis clan to learn the trade. As the Davis patriarch had no son, James was groomed to take over the business, and dutifully married Davis’s daughter. During the Seven Years War, he earned a reputation as an excellent military hatter—the officers of many regiments were responsible for purchasing their own supplies.

Men of the Lock family served in the Grenadier Guards during the Peninsular War. But perhaps the most famous snippet from the store’s history during the Napoleonic Wars involves Admiral Horatio Nelson. He designed a special seagoing hat to his own specifications—including a fold-down eyepatch for his bad eye—and placed an order for it with Lock & Co., providing a detailed sketch and notes for them to follow. Alas, it was never picked up, as Nelson and Victory sailed to the Battle of Trafalgar before he returned to England. (A facsimile is on display in the store, along with a copy of the instructions.)

Family history gets a little complicated during the next century, with financial troubles and lawsuits threatening the emporium’s existence. Suffice it to say, the problems were ironed out and today, there are still seven Lock family members involved with the company. Recently, when one of them was asked if the shop would ever be put to another use, he indignantly replied, “Pack the place in, d’you mean? After three hundred years? Not bloody likely! If the Duke of Bedford can keep his family chateau in business we can do the same for ours!”

Here are some of my favorite "hat history" highlights from the Lock & Co. website:

The Bowler Hat
The Bowler, or more properly the Coke hat, was first made by Lock and Co. in 1850 for William Coke, who wanted a stout hat for gamekeepers that would withstand knocks from overhanging tree branches. (Its crown is hardened by numerous layers of shellac.) He also insisted its brim be small, so as not to catch in the wind and be blown off. Legend has it that Coke jumped up and down on the “Bowler” (the name of the actual hatter who fashioned it for Lock) and when he couldn’t crush it announced he was satisfied.

The Straw Boater
The Boater is patterned after the hats issued to naval midshipmen in the late nineteenth century, though the naval hats were floppier and designed for sun protection.

The Trilby
The Trilby is named after the female heroine in a novel by George du Maurier, which was serialized in Harper’s New Monthly Magazine. Made of soft felt, it became very popular in the early twentieth century as men adopted a more casual, modern look.

Some of the couture creations of the present store are truly works of art, but I confess, I never wear a hat except for sun protection—and then it tends to be a very mundane baseball cap. What about you? Are hats part of your wardrobe? Do you wear them as a fashion statement, or are you like me and wear one for purely practical reasons. Do you have any favorite hat style from history? I love the military-style shakos with ostrich plumes that a Regency heroine would wear for riding.

It's a Magic Lantern

Joanna here ...

Before moving pictures.  Before silent film.  Before black and white.  Before Clara Bow and Charlie Chaplin.  


There was the Magic Lantern.



Let's say you're a Regency thrillseeker, out to squeeze all possible enjoyment from an evening.  You might go to a Magic Lantern show at a friend's house. You might put one on yourself.



People had known more or less forever that light shining through colored glass carried that color to where the light fell.  Every stained glass window in Europe, even every translucent leaf in the sunlight, every light source shining through colored glass cast an image.


The beauty of that.  A picture painted in light.



Or it can be educational

Being the inventive species we are, we wanted to do that at will, casting the image we chose.  The earliest technology for doing this dates to the Seventeenth Century.  Shine candlelight through a demon or ghost thinly painted on glass; let your image fall onto a gauze screen or a column of smoke; and presto! 


You got magic in your magic show.

You're a hit with the locals whom you have just terrified. 



 In the Eighteenth Century, itinerant 'lanternists' travelled the countryside carrying the cabinet that held their slides and their lantern, giving shows at country inns and fairs.

A lanternist, looking disgruntled

One disgusted contemporary writer remarks,
"These showmen were not romantic troubadours, but often as unwholesome and grotesque in appearance as the images they cast onto the white sheet."

The Magic Lantern became sort of a parlor amusement and novelty.  Samuel Pepys bought one in 1666,"to make strange things on a wall."

You can think of it as a Georgian slide projector.  
(Though a slide projector is getting to be a n antiquated piece of technology itself.)  


How did it work?
(You can skip this bit if you want.)

The anatomy of the Magic Lantern is:

(a) An oil lamp making light.  It's inside the casing on the left of this picture where you can't see it, but it has that little stack for the heat to come out of. 

(b) A condensing lens — which you also can't see because it is inside that casing — sending all the lamp light through a slot, which you can see.

(c) Painted glass plates fit into that slot. The top picture is without a glass

attrib Lokilech and TimDrury

slide.  The lower picture has a glass slide.

(d) And then you have a barrel on the right end with a lens that enlarges the image as it emerges and heads toward whatever wall or sheet is being used as a screen. 


You see the limiting factor here, don't you?  It's the light source.  An oil lamp is just not very strong. The Argand lamp, after 1780, went a ways toward creating that powerful and beautiful image you wanted to project.

Argand lamp in use

The Argand produced a light of six or eight candlepower.

<sound of crickets>



Okay.  I can see you are bowled over by the blazing beacon of six or eight candlepower.  But this was a significant advance.  Trust me on this.


And just as a side note, oil lamps you see in Regency portraits are like as not Argand lamps.  They were the halogen bulbs of their day.


But let us leave mere apparatus.  The Magic Lantern was all about The Show.

four pictures painted on glass

Your traveling lanternist in the inn parlor or tent at the fair could be projecting "Ogres, grinning skulls, bloody battle scenes, shipwrecks" or pictures of distant lands, or scenes from folk tales and bible stories.
Often, he'd insert a long strip of glass with  four or five images painted on it and draw that through the slot in the magic lantern, changing scenes as he lay down his experienced patter.  His exciting story.  He might even have an assistant providing music. 
Then he'd pass the hat.  

here's your ship at sea image

Particularly skilled practitioners of the art of the Magic Lantern might have several slides in the slot at once, one in front of the other. 
Perhaps a sky with clouds and a sea.  The other slide would have boats.

A contemporary expert advises:
"You are then to pass the glass slowly through the groove; and when you come to that part where the storm begins, you are to move the glass gently up and down, which will give it the appearance of a sea that begins to be agitated: and so increase the motion till you come to the height of the storm.  At the same lime you are to introduce the other glass with the ships, and moving that in like manner, you will have a natural representation of the sea, and of ships in a calm and in a storm."

Wild times in Regency England.  It's a  Magic Lantern show in the Squire's drawing room.  Cummon, Regency dandy, grab some popcorn and hold your sweetie close.
(Okay.  Maybe not the anachronistic popcorn.)

But this Magic Lantern is the Olduvai ancestor of the Saturday Matinee, of Star Wars and The Avengers, of iMax 3D.  Look at it there, smack in the middle of Georgian and Regency times.

Our Regency characters would always remember going to a Magic Lantern show. 

Pulling on that thread ... What's your most treasured memory of going to the movies?

For me it's heading down to the Saturday morning early show in the summer,
because the movies were Air Conditioned! — and the house wasn't.
One lucky commenter, (US only, sorry,) can win their choice of one of my books.

London's Garden Squares

Anne here. The first time I went to London on my own, and as an adult, I stayed in a backpackers' hotel, renting a miniscule room overlooking a beautiful shady garden. In a big gray city, it was an enticing patch of lush green vegetation surrounded by decorative iron railings and it reminded me of the Victorian era public gardens which abound at home. Since it was summer, I thought it would be nice to sit in that garden and write some letters (yes, it was that long ago, when people still wrote letters.)

This is a photo of the photo collage I made of it —the view from my window — I was in my David Hockney photo collage phase at the time, joining up photos to give a time-and-movement element to photos. I still like the effect. 

Imagine my surprise when I found every gate into the garden had a lock on it. And they were all locked. I mentioned it to someone on the desk of the backpackers' hotel and he looked at me as if I were peculiar and said, "It's a private garden. Only the residents have keys to it." And no, backpackers —and other riff-raff, he implied— couldn't use it.  I admit, I was a bit shocked. The only private gardens I knew of were the ones in people's back yard.

Remember that scene in Notting Hill where Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant climb over the high fence into the garden? It was that kind of garden.

It's a feature of London, these private garden squares serving a small number of residents. The trend probably started in 1630, when the 4th Earl of Bedford commissioned Inigo Jones in to design and build a church and three terraces of fine houses around a large square or piazza at Covent Garden. It was a new idea at the time (imported from Italy via the grand tour, I think.) Of course that was a big square, open to the public. 

In the 17th century the Great Plague and then the Great Fire of London made thousands of people homeless. People, more aware of the dangers of cramped housing, took to the idea of a more spacious way of life, and this influenced the speculative building boom that followed.

Of course much of the boom was of cheap and quick-to-build tenements, but some developments had higher aspirations, planning an early kind of suburb, with a square of grand houses at the heart, and a church and a marketplace, surrounded by a series of increasingly inexpensive streets and houses. The larger of these squares are household names today.

Here is an early view of Bloomsbury Square. (right)

This is it today. (left)

The earliest squares were simply areas of open grass, sometimes fenced with a wooden fence. The earliest square to have a real ornamental garden established in it was Soho Square. (see the pic of Soho Square below, with the sheep)

As London became more and more built up, more and more housing developments for the affluent were constructed around a square (or rectangle or other shape) and a private garden or small park built in the middle.

But by the early 18th century, many had also become choked with rubbish and were a focus of crime. Covent Garden, for instance, had become a notorious red light area. The solution was to introduce legislation by which residents were taxed to enable the squares to be properly maintained. This was a turning point. If the residents had to pay, they wanted control.

Some squares were fenced off — seriously— from the public with high iron railings, providing protection and a degree of privacy and from the hoi polloi. You can  understand it — a large private garden was a safe place for your nanny to take the children to play.

Trees were planted. The big plane trees you see today in Berkeley Square (right) were planted in the 1780's.

The rural landscape was becoming fashionable (replacing formal geometric gardens) and some of these city gardens were designed to imitate the great estates, with groves of trees, fountains, statues and shady walks, giving a little touch of the country in the heart of the city. Some went to extremes in this country imitation; behind the railings of Cavendish Square, sheep grazed.

The Regency era was a time of economic boom and many new housing developments were built, many with their own garden square. Thomas Cubitt, the leading land developer of the era even established his own plant nursery to stock the gardens he built, often creating the gardens well before the houses were built.

In the Victorian era garden design reflected a greater desire for privacy with a thick planting of evergreens around the perimeter, and spacious green lawns and flowerbeds within, concealed from the public eye.

In 1840 the Ladbroke Estate took this desire for privacy even further, building the houses to face onto the street and opening onto one large communal garden at the back. This became quite a fashionable design and many other developments followed suit. It looked like this at the front (see pic left) and like this at the rear (see pic below right, taken from a real estate advert.)

However, not all of these private gardens were well maintained and in 1863, the Gardens in Towns Protection Act allowed local authorities to take over the maintenance of neglected squares. This resulted in some being open to the public.

This work was later taken over by The Metropolitan Public Gardens Association (MPGA), founded in 1882 to preserve small areas of urban open land, rescued many of the older squares, improving them and opening them up to the public.

These days, many of the garden squares in London remain in private hands, and are open to public access only on "Open Garden Squares Weekend" held in June. 

So what about you? Have you been to London? Visited any of these garden squares?
Do you like the idea of sharing a large-ish garden with 20 or 30 of your neighbours, or do you prefer your own small private patch of garden? Want to share one with Hugh Grant, perhaps?
Maybe you live in an apartment, and your garden is in pots. Or do you have a black thumb?
Share your thoughts.

Terms of Endearment

Nicola here, reflecting on the way in which people have expressed their affection for each other over the centuries. I started thinking about this last week when a reader asked me if my use of the endearment “sweetheart” was authentic to the Regency period. I was pretty sure that the word originated long before the 19^th century but I ran to check my dictionary anyway and found that sweetheart was first used in the 14^th century. (Back in the days when Henry VIII actually liked Anne Boleyn he called her sweetheart a lot.) "Darling" is even earlier usage, dating to before the 12^th century. Evidently finding an affectionate term for a loved one is something people have been doing for a long, long time.

By coincidence, the BBC also published a list last week of the ten most unusual endearments people choose to describe their beloved, so I thought I would share some of those with you today and also talk a bit about the historical background to terms of endearment.

 A Sweet Tooth

 Like sweetheart, the word honey has been used an endearment since the fourteenth century. It derives from the Old English word “hunig” and is also found as a term of endearment in many other languages. In the 16^th century a Scots poet romantically called his love a “honey sop” which is a piece of bread soaked in honey. In the same verse he compared her to a “swete posset” a drink made from hot milk curdled with ale, sugar and spice. That might not sound very attractive to us but on a cold Scottish night it might be just what you needed! 

Whilst honey in all its forms works as a complement in the Germanic languages it doesn’t translate well into the French. If you call a French person “miel” they may think you are suggesting that they are a bit of a sticky mess. To endear yourself to the French, go for “chouchou” which literally means “little cabbage.” This suggests something small and round and like a delicious (chou) pastry.

  In South American Portuguese the word “chuchu” means a squash and the word “chuchuzinho,” little squash, is a term of affection in Brazil. I suppose this is pretty close to pumpkin!

It was not only sweets and vegetables that were used to express love in the past. In Chaucer’s day it was complimentary to compare someone to some of the more attractive spices. In the Miller’s Tale he wrote: “My faire bryd, my swete cynemome.” Spices were expensive and exotic in Chaucer's day - pretty special, in fact - so being a stick of cinnamon was a real compliment! 

In A Pig’s Eye

Hard as it is to believe, the word “pigsnie” deriving from pig’s eye, was once a term of great admiration. I first came across the word pigsnie used affectionately when I read The Screwtape Letters by C S Lewis. Again, this dates back to the time of Chaucer who wrote admiringly: “She was a prymerole, (primrose) a pigggesnye, for any lord to leggen in his bed.”

The Japanese also admire fine eyes and a particular compliment in Japan is to call someone Tamago gata no kao, an egg with eyes, the classic oval-shaped face being much admired in Japan.

Other Birds and animals

“Little dove” may be the earliest recorded term of endearment there is, as it is mentioned in the Bible in the Song of Songs. “Oh my dove… Let me see thy countenance.” Dove is still a term of affection in Russia to this day. Interestingly the word “turtle” which was also used to mean “lover” as early as the 16^th century derives from turtle dove rather than the turtle with the shell. This term was still popular in the 18^th century when Lady MW Montagu described a ball where there were “several couple of true turtles… saying soft things to one another.”

Meanwhile it is the term chang noi, “little elephant,” that is used affectionately in Thailand, elephants being the most prized of animals in Thai culture. 

When I was growing up in the North of England I was frequently called “pet.” This northern term of endearment is very old and was found only in Scotland and the North of England until the mid 18^th century when it started to spread south. Comparing your loved one to a favourite tamed animal is very cute, furry and cuddly.

 Some terms of affection have sinister origins, however. The word “poppet” originated in the 1300s as a small human figure used in sorcery. Its usage had changed by the late 14^th century to also mean a small and dainty person.

Shakespeare’s Sweet Chuck

Shakespeare contributed a great many words and phrases to the language and so it is only appropriate that he should have given us some fine terms of endearment. In Romeo and Juliet the nurse calls Juliet a ladybird. Then there is “sweet chuck,” an ancient variant on “chicken.” Chuck is still used affectionately in the north of England, and chicken was another endearment I heard a lot when I was growing up.

 Less attractive to our modern taste, perhaps, is the comparison of a loved one to a bat or “flitter-mouse.”  Ben Jonson, a contemporary of Shakespeare, used this term of endearment in a play published in 1610. The heroine was so touched to be compared with a bat that she kissed the hero!

Jane Austen's Restraint

Jane Austen did not show intimate scenes between characters so it is not surprising that her characters are so seldom demonstrative in their use of language. The occasional use of the word "dear" and the reference to a spouse by their formal name is about as affectionate as they get. The only character who appears to be addicted to terms of endearment is Isabella Thorpe in Northanger Abbey who calls Catherine Morland “dearest, sweetest Catherine.” Isaballa's terms of endearment are empty of true affection. Jane also pokes fun at Mrs Elton whose use of the term “caro sposo,” “dear husband” seems pretentious and flowery given the restraint with which the other characters speak.

Some endearments that sound modern to us actually have origins much earlier than you might imagine. I had no idea that “baby” was first recorded as a term of endearment back in 1839. Even bunny, with or without the snuggle, dates back to the 1680s in Scotland! 

Do you have a favourite term of endearment? Or one you can't stand? Has anyone ever called you "my little marmoset"? Are there unusual local terms of endearment used where you live? (Just out of interest, the word "Wench" originated as a wanton woman but by the 1580s had become a tem of endearment meaning sweetheart!)