Word Wenches

The Canary Islands

Hi, Jo here, doing a photo essay about "what I did on my winter holiday." The Canary Islands.

The Canaries are off the north west coast of Africa, so winter sun is pretty well guaranteed, but we had a couple of dull days to begin with. Turns out it was dust and sand in the air, coming from the Sahara.

You can click on the map to enlarge it. These are contour maps, so you can see the islands are hilly and volcanic. Lanzarote at the top is largely a lava desert because of a massive eruption in the 18th century.

"From 1730 to 1736 (for 2,053 days), the island was hit by a series of volcanic eruptions, producing 32 new volcanoes in a stretch of 18 km (11 mi). The minister of Yaiza, Don Andrés Lorenzo Curbelo documented the eruption in detail until 1731. Lava covered a quarter of the island's surface, including the most fertile soil and eleven villages. One hundred smaller volcanoes were located in the area called Montañas del Fuego, the "Mountains of Fire".

In 1768, drought affected the deforested island, and winter rains did not fall. Much of the population was forced to emigrate to Cuba and the Americas. Another volcanic eruption occurred within the range of Tiagua in 1824 which was less violent than the major eruption between 1730 and 1736." Wikipedia

What We Are Reading

Cara/Andrea here, If you're like me, you spent much of the holiday down time with your nose in a good book (after all, people know what sort of holiday presents we like best!) So for the first Wenchly report of the new year on What We Are  Reading, we have a LOT to share. (Have a notepad and pencil ready!) And please don't forget to share your recent favorites.

Mary Jo:
I always have a novel somewhere within reach, and I just finished the new Jayne Ann Krentz romantic suspense, Trust No One.  It was sleek, fun, and entertaining.

But I've also been reading more non-fiction lately.  A couple of weeks ago, I blogged about Cary Elwes's As You Wish, a delightful memoir of making The Princess Bride.

Also fun but very different is A Slip of the Keyboard, a collection of the non-fiction short pieces of British fantasy writer Terry Pratchett written over the several decades of his novelist's life.
 
Pratchett is one of the world's bestselling fantasy writers and his Discworld series abounds with wacky British wit, memorably eccentric characters, and underlying subversion.  The pieces are a mixture of speeches and articles about his work and his life and his growing up.  There's a lovely long speech he gave when he was made an honorary professor at Trinity College in Dublin.  He asked them, "Are you mad?"  They replied, "Yes. We're Irish."  <G>
 
As he said in his inaugural professorial speech, they were getting a genuine absent minded professor--because he is, famously, suffering from a rare form of Alzheimer's which in these days is truly the disease that dare not speak its name because society collectively doesn't want to think about it.
 
But Terry Pratchett isn't afraid to tackle any subject, as he proves here.  The earlier pieces in the book are witty and insightful and a lot of fun, but he manages to be equally witty and insightful in the last essays, where he talks about his disease and how society darned well needs to figure out how to deal with it better, because the baby boomers are coming.  And he still manages to be funny about it all.  (I've heard him speak in person twice, and the second time was several years after his diagnosis.  He was still very much himself.)

If you like offbeat British humor and stories that slowly build until you can't put the book down, I recommend Terry Pratchett's novels.  (The first I read, at Pat Rice's recommendation, was Witches Abroad.  I've been reading him ever since.)   

And if you enjoy wise and witty essays, I recommend A Slip of the Keyboard.  There is no one, anywhere, who writes like Terry Pratchett!
 
Anne:
After my annual read of Trisha Ashley's Twelve Days of Christmas, I bought another Trisha Ashley book, Every Woman For Herself, in which a recently divorced — ie suddenly dumped after more than 20 years — woman picks up the threads of her pre-marriage life, moving back to The Parsonage, a big old house where her eccentric family gathers. It's an entertaining story with an enjoyable romance and a few laughs. For those who've read other Trisha Ashley books, this is a slightly tweaked edition of one of her old books, and the one in which the Skint Old Northern Woman magazine first appears. (I'm linking here to her amazon page, where I think there are some bargains.)

I also read another story about a woman in the process of being divorced — Sophie Kinsella's Wedding Night and enjoyed it very much. It's a madcap story with a few laughs and a nice romantic happy ending — just my cup of tea for the holidays.

A friend suggested to me I should read some male writers of popular fiction, so I've been reading Lee Child "Jack Reacher" books and enjoying them, too.

Nicola:
I’ve been indulging in some great books this month! On the non-fiction front there was The Hollow Crown: The Wars of the Roses and the Rise of the Tudors. Dan Jones is a historian who makes history read like a thriller. He tells the intricate story of the family alliances and political enmities that led to the Wars of the Roses and writes vividly and skilfully. It’s one of the most engrossing non-fiction books I’ve read in a very long time and even if it didn’t convert this long-time Yorkist to the Lancastrian cause it was a great read!

The arrival of January also brought with it Sarah Morgan’s latest Harlequin Presents Playing By the Greek’s Rules. Yay! As well as having all of Sarah’s trademark warmth and humour, a sinfully sexy hero and the sort of heroine you would want as your best friend, it also sets the scene for her new Puffin Island Series. I loved it and I can’t wait for the new series!

Finally a really interesting and charming read from Jenny Kane called Romancing Robin Hood. If like me you were a fan of Robin of Sherwood this might appeal to you! The heroine, Grace Harper, is an academic who is supposed to be writing a textbook on the Folvilles, a gang of medieval criminals. However she keeps getting distracted by the book she is secretly writing, a romantic mystery that entwines the Folvilles with her long-time addiction to Robin Hood. There’s a current day romance as well and the wholestory is funny, unusual and totally charming.

Pat:
I’ve been hunkered down working this past month and don’t have a lot to report. Found an author new to me but well known to mystery lovers—Dorothy Cannell. She does lovely English mysteries full of entertaining characters and crumbling mansions and the murder tends to be off screen. I enjoy the fun of perfectly ordinary people bumbling around, trying to figure out what and why and who.  I just finished Down The Garden Path.

And I read another Rose Lerner... Sweet Disorder. I really love that she doesn’t do dukes and bored aristocrats and spoiled little rich girls and Cinderella tales. Instead, she creates solid characters with middling lives who are getting along but who have dreams...or not. The hero in this one is a wounded army vet simply doing what his family tells him to keep his allowance, and his family most certainly doesn’t tell him to go bug-eyed over the busty newspaper editor’s widow. Lerner weaves in nice bits of history, family drama, and a truly brilliant love story. Even the sex scenes are out of the ordinary.

Susan:
I'm a multi-media reader these days, juggling print, ebook and audio, and lately I'm juggling several books in various formats, depending on where I am and how much reading time I have. Here's what I'm enjoying currently--

I've just finished Bill Bryson's biography of Shakespeare in its ebook incarnation. It's a fun Brysonesque read and an excellent overview, filled with great research and thoughtful insights. On Mary Jo's recommendation, I've nearly finished As You Wish, Cary Elwes' highly entertaining memoir of the making of The Princess Bride, and I'm loving it. So of course I've picked up The Princess Bride again, 25th anniversary edition with William Goldman's fascinating intro ("I do not not not like being on a movie set"). I'm also reading Leonardo's Lost Princess by Peter Silverman, about the discovery and authentication of a Leonardo drawing of a young woman of the Sforzi family. The art historian in me is loving the steps from the "anonymous" drawing up for sale in a gallery to the identification of an unknown Da Vinci. Very cool stuff.

I n audio, I'm listening to Alan Bradley's newest Flavia de Luce installment, As Chimney Sweepers Come to Dust. The intrepid and mischievous Flavia is shipped off to Canada to attend a school for girls, where she stumbles upon a dessicated corpse in the chimney. I adore Flavia and her narrator, Jayne Entwistle, who so brilliantly portrays Flavia and her adventures--and I've never heard a better match of narrator and character!  

Cara/Andrea:
I’ve been doing my usual ying and yang reading over the past month, switching back and forth between fiction and non-fiction. My local library’s recent newsletter spotlighted a Lynn Shepherd, a new-to-me historical mystery writer, who bases her books on literary inspiration from the 19th century. The series sounded intriguing so I picked up The Solitary House, which is based on Dickens’s Bleak House (with a dash of Wilkie Collins thrown in.) It took me a bit to get used to her style—it’s written in Wolf Hall-style of present tense, with a very detached narrator describing what is happening. However, I was drawn into the story and the interesting cast of characters. The protagonist is a Victorian private investigator whose uncle was the most famous thief taker from the Regency era. The uncle is brilliant but sinking into the first stages of dementia, and there are some very poignant scenes. It will probably not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I found it an interesting read. (p.s. There are a MASSIVE amount of one star reviews on Amazon because apparently the author did a blog slamming J. K. Rowling . . . admitting she hadn’t actually read the book in question. Not EVER a wise idea, especially with Rowling fans.)

I’ve also been really enjoying Against the Gods, The Remarkable Story of Risk by Peter Bernstein.  It’s a very thought-provoking book, tracing the concept of risk, which is based on how we see the future and our ability to control it. Staring with the Greeks, the author traces the changing perception of how much we feel that we can affect “Fate” through understanding probability, statistics, etc. There are wonderful anecdotes of key people throughout history whose thoughts affected the way we deal with the world. There are lots of mathematicians mentioned (many of them loved to gamble) along with concepts like utility theory and game theory. But it’s written for the general public, even though it’s a best-selling financial book, and the prose is terrific and highly entertaining. And I’m learning a lot that helps me better understand a broad range of financial/economic issues. Highly recommended!

So what about you? What new books are tickling your fancy in the new year? From reading this list I've already gone out and bought some of the marvelous-sounding stories to add to my towering TBR stack, but am always happy to add more!

Makeover Magic

by Mary Jo

Barring a visit to a Nordstrom's cosmetic counter, I've never had a makeover personally, but I enjoy reading about them, and I love writing them!  Which is why so many of my books have such scenes--not because they're good business, but because they're fun.  

I very seldom write stunningly beautiful heroines, and when I do, they have invariably suffered because of that beauty.  Think of Helen of Troy, the most beautiful woman in the world, who became the trigger for a war.  Not a good place to be!  Having the sort of beauty that brings men to their knees can bring power, but also danger.  It's too easy to become an object, and what happens when beauty fades?  

It's safer if a woman is pleasantly attractive, or perhaps striking, rather than classically beautiful.  Most of my heroines are hard-working women who don't have a lot of time or money for prettifying, and they think of themselves as average looking, if they think of the subject at all.  This is why giving them a makeover at the salon of a really talented modiste is such fun.  Instant Cinderella!  

This fantasy is effective because most of us clean up pretty well, so we can relate to a heroine who discovers a new self-image--and new personal power--when she has a chance to look her best.  

In real life and fiction both, the ideal is a man who thinks you're beautiful always, even when your hair needs washing and you aren't quite the sylph you once were.  That's very romantic!  But even though the hero is already drawn to her, it's fun when he sees the results of the makeover, and he's stunned almost speechless.  

Of course the details of the scene will provide insights into the characters.  My favorite among the ones I've written is from Thunder and Roses.  The heroine of the story, Clare, is a Welsh Methodist minister's daughter, a hardworking village schoolteacher.  She goes to Nicolas, the local lord, to ask his help in improving the economy of their valley.  Hung-over and wanting her to go away, Nicolas says he'll help if she'll ruin her reputation by allowing her friends and neighbors to think she's his mistress.

Instead of fleeing in shock, Clare takes up his challenge, and they're off!  This includes Nicholas taking her to London and acquiring the sort of wardrobe a mistress should have:  

Before allowing Clare to look at herself in the wall mirror, Marie produced a sprig of creamy silk roses and tucked them into Clare’s dark hair. “Tres bien. Accessories and a different hairstyle are needed, but this will please Monsieur le compte.’’
    When Clare was finally permitted to see herself, she blinked in surprise at her image. The rose challis made her skin glow and her eyes look enormous. She looked like a lady—an attractive lady. Even, heaven help her, rather dashing. She studied the neckline of the gown uneasily. Not only was it cut alarmingly low, but the stays pushed her up in front. Though Clare knew herself to be modestly endowed, in this fashionable gown she looked quite… bountiful.
    Suppressing the desire to cover her bare chest with her hands, she shyly emerged from behind the screen. Nicholas and Denise broke off their discussion to stare. While the dressmaker nodded with satisfaction, Nicholas circled around Clare, his eyes glowing with approval. “I knew this gown would become you, but even so, I’m impressed. Only one alteration is needed.”
    He used the edge of his hand to draw a line across the front of her bodice. “Cut the décolletage to here.”
    She gasped, as much because he was touching her breasts—in public!—as because of the shockingly low neckline he wanted. “I refuse to wear anything indecent!”
    “What I’m suggesting is rather moderate.” He drew another line across her breasts, this one barely clearing her nipples. “This would be indecent.”
    Appalled, Clare glanced at Denise. “Surely he’s jesting?”
    “Not at all,” the dressmaker said briskly. “I have customers who won’t buy a gown unless they’re in danger of popping out. Keeps the gentlemen interested, they say.”
    “I should certainly think it would,” Clare muttered, unmollified. “But it’s not for me.”
    “You smolder better than any woman I ever met.” Nicholas gave her his devil’s smile. “The décolletage I am suggesting is more daring than you want, and more conservative than I would like. Isn’t that fair enough?”

The makeover scene in The Marriage Spell serves a different purpose. The healer heroine, Abby, is tall and well rounded and thinks of herself as a plain country woman.  Then she marries Jack Langdon after saving his life, and it's off to London and a better wardrobe, among other things.

One of the points I wanted to make in this scene is about stays and corsets.  Modern women tend to look back on them in horror, but a well made set of stays would be comfortable, and good underpinnings definitely makes a woman look her best.  (And honestly, are stays any less comfortable than stiletto heels???)

That's still true, I might add.  A really good bra that has been fitted by someone who knows what she is doing will feel good and make a woman look younger and fitter, and who doesn't want that?  So here is Abby's encounter with a first class corsetiere:

    The corsetiere, who wore gray, added, “Without a proper foundation, even the finest of gowns will not look its best.”   Her eyes gleamed as she studied Abby.  “And you, milady, are in dire need of my skills.”
    Apparently talented artisans were allowed such rudeness.  Fortunately Abby had little vanity, because the sisters and the duchess began to discuss her appearance with hair-curling bluntness.  Abby was stripped down to her shift, measured in amazing detail, draped in swathes of fabric, and analyzed as if she wasn’t present.  
    As Madame Ravelle turned to consult a copy of La Belle Assemblée, Abby asked her sister-in-law, “Am I allowed any opinions about what I am to wear?”
    “A few,” Celeste said cheerfully.  “But you will only be offered good choices, so whatever you wear will look stunning.”
    “Indeed, milady has a magnificent figure,” Madame Renault observed.  “With your height and natural form, it’s a crime the way you have concealed yourself with plain garments and inferior stays.”
    “If magnificent means overblown, you’re right,” Abby said tartly.  “Even when I was thirteen, I didn’t have the elegance of figure that the duchess possesses.”
    Madame Ravelle shook her head.  “There is more than one kind of beauty, Lady Frayne.  Her grace is the epitome of ethereal elegance.  Men and women gasp when they see her.  She is like a fairy queen who is briefly visiting earth to grant mere mortals a glimpse of timeless beauty.”
    Celeste laughed.  “That is ludicrously overblown flattery, Madame Ravelle.”
    “Overblown, perhaps, but essentially accurate,” Abby commented.  

   Madame Renault turned to her.  “Your beauty is of an earthier, more sensual kind, Milady Frayne.  When you enter a ballroom, women will see a well-dressed woman, and continue what they were doing.  Men will stare and yearn and consider challenging your lord husband to a duel to win your favor.”

Abby doesn't believe it, but needless to say, Jack is suitably stunned by the results. <G>  

My upcoming September book, Not Always a Saint, has a heroine who is of the beautiful- and-has-suffered-for-it sort.  Jessie doesn't get a real makeover scene, though when she goes to London, she does need to get a new wardrobe because she's in mourning but needs to find a new husband fast.  In her case, she needs widow's weeds that will make her look both modest and alluring. 

Clothing plays into our stories in numerous ways!  Jessie does get to wear a scarlet gown at one point, and that's what the Kensington art department went with for the fabulous cover.  

Do you enjoy reading (or writing) makeover scenes, or do they bore you?  Are there some you've read and particularly enjoyed?  If so, what books and why?  I'm sure I'm not alone in this particular pleasure!

Mary Jo, who is awfully casual about clothing in real life. <G>

A Few Dinner Guests

I love Burns Night Suppers, hosted by some Scottish friends who live near us. Nearly every January 25th (or thereabouts), they invite friends to this lively, lovely event. It's a Scottish tradition that's more than just a meal with friends –- there's a sequence to the evening that includes toasts and responses, poetry, whisky, Scottish dishes, and of course, the celebration and address to the haggis, carried steaming hot into the dining room accompanied by bagpipe music. It's all done in the wonderful fun spirit of the man himself, Robert Burns, who loved a good time, good laughs, good food and good friends--and the magic and power of language.

Guests deliver rousing whisky toasts—long and substantive and fun—starting with The Immortal Memory Toast to Robert Burns; then a male guest gives the Toast to the Lassies, and a female guest delivers the Reply to the Laddies, often very saucy toasts and retorts. This is followed by more toasts, perhaps some Burns poetry or songs, more courses of good food, more music.

The Burns Supper's centerpiece dish is haggis (a savory sausagey thing that’s quite tasty, though I skip it, being a non-meat-eater), along with neeps ‘n tatties (mashed turnips and potatoes), and perhaps salmon or lamb and veggies followed by a dessert of shortbread and fruit trifle or a creamy raspberry-and-oats cranachan. Then a sip more whisky if you like, and perhaps a finish of strong brewed tea. All that, and good friends, makes a very special evening.

Burns Night is celebrated on January 25, the poet’s birthday, or as near as one can manage the date. I’ve written a few Immortal Memory Toasts and Toasts to the Laddies, quite fun to do (I’ve blogged about that previously if you want to read the whole Immortal Memory Toast).

Not everyone in Scotland or of Scottish descent celebrates Burns Night, though it’s a widely known annual event that honors a brilliant, bold, rebellious and romantic poet, a literati and a working class educated man, and altogether a fascinating lad. His life wasn’t perfect—his behavior certainly wasn’t—but his work even today reads filled with passion for Scotland, for its history, its romantic, noble heart, for women, love, friendship, loyalty--and his lines as bawdy as they are heroic, at times.

And this year’s annual Burns Night Supper got me thinking about suppers for special historical people. If I were to host a supper to celebrate a favorite person from history, who would I choose, and what would some of the features of this supper be? And while I’m inviting people – why not invite more than one person from another century?

Joan of Arc – I’ve loved her since I was a little Catholic girl fascinated by the teenager who spoke with angels and boldly followed her destiny and convictions to lead an army to war and find the courage later to face the flames.  My great-grandmother grew up a few miles from where Joan lived, so Jehanne la Pucelle and I would have lots to talk about (I’d brush up on my French before she arrived!). I’d ask her what she thought of the English (she and other French soldiers called them the “Goddams” because they overheard the English swearing by their campfires at night). And I’d show her my bookshelves—I have dozens of books about her.

I’d invite Sir Walter Scott too – a lovely man, I imagine. We could discuss Scottish
history and his role in originating historical fiction and, yes, historical romance. I’d also hope he’d talk to me about his library of 9,000 volumes on history, legend, and British culture at Abbotsford, his beautiful home (which I’ve visited more than once, and will drool over forever).

Mary, Queen of Scots – She’s always had my sympathy—she was a beautiful young woman raised in the elite bubble of the French court and sent home to Scotland to rule over some rough, ruthless, conniving men who did their best to undermine her. She was too easily influenced and made mistakes, but she was fascinating. I’d want to ask her about her life, her relationships, what really happened between her and her cousin Elizabeth. I think Sir Walter Scott would be delighted to speak with Mary, and both of them could converse with Joan of Arc in French.

There are so many guests on my wish list -- Leonardo da Vinci. Robert Bruce. Jane Austen (Sir Walter Scott would love to sit beside her, as he much admired her work). Elisabeth Vigee-Lebrun, whose portraits were so tender and full of life during a hard turn in French history. Tolkein--I'd want to know how he tapped into such magnificent creative mythic storytelling, and I'd ask him about Celtic poetry.  

For the menu, I’d go with a Scottish dinner, perhaps instead of haggis a good cock-a-leekie soup (chicken and leeks, good and very easy), then salmon with neeps ‘n tatties (Queen Mary and Joan of Arc could discover a new taste sensation—potatoes—along with that old staple, turnips), with a nice array of pastries for dessert. A few wee sippies of whisky, and tea and coffee . . . a good meal with some very interesting guests.

Have you been to a Burns Supper? If you hosted your own supper for a person from history, who would you invite and what would be the highlights of the evening? 

Here's to Burns, and suppers, and a wee sippie of a good Scottish whisky on a brisk winter's night!

Susan 

 

Regency Diet

 Pat here:

I’m currently working on a new Malcolm/Ives book set in 1830. In hunting for a food that small boys might relish at a village fair, I went on a google expedition. The internet boasts a plethora of material that I would have given my right hand to own back when I first started writing. Now, instead of procrastinating— researching—by getting lost in my library, I hunt through Wikipedia, jump to Google Books, dig deep into newspaper archives, or just generally wallow in the wealth of Regency blogs and websites available with the click of a mouse.

I can’t say I was particularly successful in my search for small boy food (Bath Buns? Pudding sausages? What, no deep-fried donuts with ice cream filling?) but I did run across brilliant sites packed with disgusting recipes for old-fashioned “puddings” that mostly consisted of fat and hog intestines. Yummy. Those Regency types sure knew how to...uh...eat high on the hog?

Jaded Readers

Anne here, and this week I'm talking about the problem of becoming jaded with your current reading matter.

When I find myself reading a well-written book with impatience or lack of attention, I know it's often because I've read too many similar books recently -- similar settings or similar tropes and sometimes it's just that I've had enough of a particular genre for a time.

That's when I put that book aside and switch genres for a while, refreshing myself by diving into something completely different.

Regency tobacco and How to Puff It

From the first importation of tobacco into Europe, to Spain, round about 1528, folks tried various ways to get into the nicotine habit. By the Regency, folks had their choice of snuff, cigars, or pipes. 

Now, snuff is a whole extensive subject I am not going to go into except to say that it leads to a snuff boxes, like those on the right, which are the delightful byproduct of a nasty habit. If I’d been living in the Georgian era I would have collected snuff boxes and carried them about full of little fruit pastilles.

Were there cigarettes?

Well, no. Not really. Technically there was something fairly similar to cigarettes in  Spain well before the Regency. They were called papelate and based on the South American custom of wrapping cut tobacco in rolled corn husks or bark or something other than a tobacco leaf. We have paintings of Spanish folks smoking this way, but no way to tell if papelate were routinely wrapped in paper.

The French, in the 1830s, saw the papelate, renamed it ‘cigarette’, and wrapped the tobacco in fine, thin paper. Voila. The rest is history.

Most significantly, the word cigarette is not used in English till 1842, so our Regency hero cannot step out onto the terrace to meditatively smoke a cigarette, overhear the heroine being reluctant with some man, and toss his cigarette down before he stomps off to be heroic.

The Exotic History of the Pineapple

Nicola here.  Today I am celebrating the history of the pineapple as a European sweet treat. The pineapple was one of the fruits that was first brought to Europe by Columbus and it quickly became an item of celebrity and curiosity. Although English horticulturalists tried to cultivate it, it was two hundred years before they were successful. As a result, in the seventeenth century the pineapple was both expensive and sought after, affordable only for royalty and the very rich. In a work of 1640, John Parkinson, Royal Botanist to Charles I, described the pineapple as:

Scaly like an Artichoke at the first view, but more like to a cone of the Pine tree, which we call a pineapple for the forme... being so sweete in smell... tasting... as if Wine, Rosewater and Sugar were mixed together. (Theatrum Botanicum)

As You Wish: The making of The Princess Bride

by Mary Jo

Sometimes I read a non-fiction book that I like so much that I'm compelled to share it here.  This time, the subject is one I'm betting most of you are familiar with: The classic movie THE PRINCESS BRIDE.  The male romantic lead, Cary Elwes, has written a memoir called AS YOU WISH: Inconceivable Tales from the Making of the Princess Bride.  Besides his own behind-the-scenes experience, he includes quotes from some of his co-stars.

THE PRINCESS BRIDE was written by the superstar screenwriter William Goldman, who won best screenplay Oscars for BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID and ALL THE PRESIDENT'S MEN.  Since TPB originated in stories told to his daughters, it has a special place in Goldman's heart.  It was considered unfilmable until Rob Reiner came along and persuaded Goldman to let him make the movie, with Goldman writing the screenplay.

If you're not familiar with the story, it's a fairy tale set in a medieval-ish sort of land.  Buttercup is the stunningly beautiful owner of a farm (no parents in sight--this is a fairy tale <G>) and the gorgeous Westley works for her.  They fall in love and he goes off to seek his fortune so he can marry her.  Alas, his ship is taken by the Dread Pirate Roberts, who famously never leaves anyone alive.  Buttercup's heart is broken.  

Friday January 9th, 1818

When doing research I like primary sources, and I often glance at newspapers of the time of my books. If you wonder how, my local library has a subscription to the Times Archive online, which includes other papers, including a database of 19th century British ones. Check out your own library's online resources. They're wonderful and accessible from at home.

Though most of the content of these papers is of little interest they do give a flavour of the time and occasional items are enlightening. I've been particularly intrigued lately as the calendar for 1817, the year of my work in hand, The Viscount Needs a Wife, was the same as 2015. So recently I was reading and writing about events in December 1817 whilst living through the same days in 2015.

My book is still in December and we're now into 2016, but the days are marching in sync, so I thought I'd look at today, Friday January 8th, 1818 in the Morning Post. The Morning Post was published in London from 1772 onwards. It changed over time, but it was fairly lightweight. Most of the content was advertisements, some British news, and social gossip. Sometimes the list of fashionable parties was long, but on this date there are only a few, some connected to Twelfth Night on the 6th. (As always, click to enlarge.)

The Art of Creating a Deliciously Desirable Hero

Cara/Andrea here, I'm delighted to kick off our regular blog schedule for the new year by welcoming back my good friend and Honorary Word Wench Miranda Neville. Nt only does Miranda craft delightfully smart and sophisticated Regency romances, but as those who have read her books know she also draws on her expertise in period history and art to create a wonderful ambiance of the era. In her latest book, which released just last week, she found inspiration in an unexpected place . . . so without further ado, I shall hand over the pen and let her tell us all about it!

Miranda here,
For The Duke of Dark Desires, I used a remarkable creation of the Regency period. One of London’s best art collections is also relatively unknown, probably because it’s inconvenient to reach by public transport. Dulwich Picture Gallery opened in 1817 and is the oldest public art gallery in England. It houses an extraordinary collection of Dutch, French, Italian and Flemish Old Masters including Rembrandt, Rubens, Raphael, Poussin, and Fragonard, as well as English masters like Gainsborough and Lawrence.

The existence of this great museum in a fairly obscure part of south London arose from the career of a pair of eighteenth-century art dealers, Noël Desenfans and Sir Francis Bourgeois. Commissioned by the King of Poland to assemble a ready-made collection of masterworks, the paintings were left on their hands when Poland (not for the first time) succumbed to more powerful neighbors. Failing to find a buyer elsewhere (both the Tsar of Russia and the British government turned it down), the collection was bequeathed by Bourgeois to his old school, Dulwich College, with the stipulation that it be displayed to the public.

Not only was it the first public gallery in England, it was also the first purpose-built gallery in the world. Sir John Soane, one of the most interesting architects of the day, designed the building, including revolutionary roof-lanterns that provided natural top light ideal for viewing art. Adjacent to the gallery space, slightly macabrely, is a mausoleum for Bourgeois, Desenfans, and the latter’s wife.

Before he inherited the title, Julian Fortescue, the hero of my latest book, had to work for his living so he followed his passion and became an art dealer. Though still considered trade, it wasn’t unusual for gentleman to do a little genteel wheeling and dealing, tracking down European treasures to meet the voracious appetite of wealthy Englishmen for works of art. (Sir William Hamilton, Emma’s husband, is a famous example.) Revolutionary Paris offered rich pickings as aristocrats fled the country.  Such a story is at the crux of the plot of The Duke of Dark Desires. I also incorporated elements of the Dulwich history into the book, as well as the long, fruitless effort to establish a national collection, which succeeded only with the foundation of the National Gallery in 1824. Best of all, I was able to raid the art galleries of the world to assemble Julian’s collection.

I don’t want to give the impression that The Duke of Dark Desires is a treatise on art history. This is the short blurb:

Julian Fortescue never expected to inherit a dukedom, nor to find himself guardian to three young half-sisters. Now in the market for a governess, he lays eyes on Jane Grey and knows immediately she is qualified--to become his mistress. To find the man responsible for the deaths of her family, Jeanne de Falleron enters the Duke of Denford's house as governess Jane Gray. As she discovers more clues about the villain she seeks, she's faced with a possibility more disturbing than her growing feelings for the duke: What will she do if the man she loves is also the man she has sworn to kill?

I’m always pleased when I can tailor real historical events to fit my novels and I especially enjoyed the inspiration of the Dulwich Picture Gallery. I will be thrilled if I encourage a few people to visit this gem. Incidentally, there’s an excellent café!

I am a keen museum goer and I love discovering new ones. Do you have a favorite “lesser known” museum or historic site? Perhaps there’s a hidden gem in your area. If so, I would like to know. One commenter will be chosen at random to win a copy of The Duke of Dark Desires.

And the Christmas Tree Comes Down

Yesterday was Twelfth Night, the last of the traditional Twelve Days of Christmas. It's gone and taken with it the Twelve Drummers Drumming, Eleven Pipers Piping and the rest of that leaping, dancing, twittering lot. If you went in for Twelfth Night festivities -- the way my Regency folks probably did -- you'd be sleeping off a surfeit the food and drink today

We've come to the feast of Epiphany.

In my house, this is the day we take all the Christmas stuff down.

I had a small, small Christmas tree this year. Green branches in various places, but a small tree. Many beautiful presents from friends and family. Much love. But not so much decoration of the house.  (The Kid had all four wisdom teeth out two days before Christmas so I was mostly figuring out how to be festive with no solid foods.)

Today I took the little tree down and de-decorated it. I will go out in the next couple days and plant it in a specially wondrous spot at the edge of the woods. For me, here at the beginning of the year, this is re-creation and new committment and planting a tree goes with that.

In other news, Epiphany is the day the Magi show up, bearing gifts.  Melchior, Caspar, and Balthazar bringing gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

Somehow I always think of camels on this date. They're bad-tempered, if you were wondering, and they bite.

So ... when do you put up your Christmas tree and when do you take it down? And, like, why?

What's for dinner?

We're coming to the end of our daily Christmastide posts, and I'm thinking back to Christmas dinner.

We all talk about a "traditional Christmas" but what is that, exactly? In the lead-up to Christmas there was a discussion on facebook that I found so interesting. It was a discussion of what people were planning to serve for Christmas Dinner, and the variety of dishes to be served amazed me.

In particular I was surprised by the variety of desserts, because to me, there is only one dessert possible for Christmas Dinner and that's Christmas pudding — also called plum pudding, though there are no plums in it. That's not to say there can't be other desserts served as well, but I've always considered Christmas pudding to be essential to any Christmas feast. It's still widely served in Australia (here's an article about it) and I assume also in the UK, but it did surprise me that none of the Americans in that discussion were having Christmas pudding at all — and that many had never even tasted it.

Chocolate Courtship

Nicola here, wishing you a very happy 10^th day of Christmas! Today I am taking down my Christmas decorations and putting them away for another year. I read recently that we do the Christmas decorating thing the wrong way around – we put our decorations up too early and take them down too early too. Whereas our ancestors, knowing how dark and depressing the early days of January can be, kept on partying as long as possible!

Anyway, here is a very sweet story, courtesy of the BBC, to celebrate the fact that we are still officially in the 12 days of Christmas party season – and what better way to celebrate than with some pastries and chocolate before those resolutions kick in!

"There was, in Lyon, at the end of the 18th Century, a certain patissier called Monsieur Papillot who had in his employ a young apprentice who, in turn, had an eye for a certain beautiful maiden who lived just across the street.

The young lad contrived to woo her by stealing the choicest of his master's chocolates, one by one, and disguising them in paper - plain on the outside, but covered with illicit messages of love and promised passion on the inside - to smuggle them out of the kitchen.

Now, Papillot was an attentive businessman and soon noticed the missing chocolates. He set watch over his apprentice but when he discovered the ruse instead of sacking the boy he congratulated him on his enterprise. The lad and the maiden were wed and Papillot invented the papillote and thereby made his fortune.”

The papilotte, a chocolate or candied fruit wrapped in papers, became a French Christmas tradition.

Here is a picture of a papillote. I couldn’t find one in the local shops so I’m “making do” with a chocolate éclair for my tea break today.

If you were to woo a loved one with chocolate or some sort of sweet treat, what would you choose?

 

The confusions of January.

I'm late with today's blog. This isn't as bad as it could be, given that I'm five hours ahead of North America, but definitely not good for our European readers. 

(I don't have confusion pictures, so you get a random selection. You can click on them to make them larger. The Christmas break is my genealogy time. The photo on the right is ancestors of my husband. If I'm right about who the woman is she married twice. How old would you say they are? She looks so careworn it's hard to tell.)

It's that calendar switch over time that does me. Does anyone else get confused by it? I write upcoming things at the end of December, but when I put up January I sometimes forget to sync the two. 

Then there's the double trouble of holidays that aren't weekends. Not that weekends mean much to the hermit-like writer, but there is a difference that usually makes itself felt. But with holidays in the middle of one week, then the middle of another, I don't know where I am!

Does anyone else have this problem? Do any of you have nifty ways of overcoming it?

(Here's a drawing of a Regency gentleman. Do you think him hero material? How about coming up with a name for him?)

Why does my brain keep telling me it's the middle of January rather than the beginning? Wishful thinking, I suppose. But the days are getting longer!

I did remember to put up a New Years newsletter. If you're interested, you can read it here.

Cheers,

Jo

 

 

The Joys of January

by Mary Jo

The holidays are over!  You've:

Roasted your turkey.

Navigated and possibly refereed your relations.

Watched or fled the football games.

Wrapped presents or shoved them all into gift bags because that's easier.

Taken the ornaments away from the cat.

Eaten all the Christmas cookies/fruitcake/latkes and wished for more, or decided enough already!

Watched the ball drop at midnight of 12/31 to usher in 2015 (though in some Maryland towns, it might have been a crab, or a donut or a canvasback duck that dropped.  <G>)

Made your resolutions.

So now:

RELAX.

I like January because it's usually such a peaceful contrast to the holiday season. 

January is a good time for working. 

A good time to get together with friends to brighten up gray days. 

A good time to toss those resolutions that are totally unrealistic or involve self-hatred.

Instead, do things you enjoy.  Watch a favorite flash mob video.

Or a cat video.  (It's well know that the infrastructure of the internet is pictures of cats. <G>

Read a good book.

Read SEVERAL good books!  


Enjoy the peace. 

And maybe the bagpipe flash mob or Irish stepdancers.  <G>

What do you like to do in January?

Mary Jo