Word Wenches

How the Regency Invented Twitter

Andrea here, thinking about communication. Now, all of you are reading this on some sort of electronic device, and no matter where you are in the world, the bytes somehow transport themselves pretty much instantaneously for your reading edification. When you think on it, it’s pretty mind-boggling the amount of information we can access with the press of an electronic key.

More than that, it’s the split-second ability to communicate with each other that has fundamentally changed (for better and for worse) the way we live and think—the rhythms of life, the expectations, the constant need to react and process. And it’s happened SO fast. I remember the the era of no internet, no cellphones . . . and wrestling with whether to spring for the cost of a long-distance telephone call to talk to a faraway pal.

I hate to admit it, but most of us (me included) probably panic when we find that we’ve forgotten to put our cellphone in our purse or pocket when we run out to do an errand. The idea of being “out of the loop”, even for a short while, is disorienting. Our brains seem to have been rewired by the new technology . . .

This is a roundabout intro to what spurred the topic in the first place. I was doing some general Regency research for an idea for one of my future Wrexford & Sloane mysteries the other day when I came across an interesting article on the invention of semaphores—or, as many called the system back then, the visual or optical telegraph—which was really the first, albeit primitive, step in the high-speed communication revolution.

Medicine and Mayhem!

Andrea here, busy polishing up promo material for the release of MURDER AT THE ROYAL BOTANIC GARDENS, my new Wrexford & Sloane mystery, which hits the shelves (virtual and real) on September 28th. I’m thrilled that Publishers Weekly gave it a lovely shout-out, saying, “Swashbuckling…Roars to an exciting climax, followed by a sweet denouement. Historical fans will have fun.”

Here’s the cover blurb: (And you can read an excerpt here!) The upcoming marriage of the Earl of Wrexford and Lady Charlotte Sloane promises to be a highlight of the season, if they can first untangle—and survive—a web of intrigue and murder involving the most brilliant scientific minds in Regency London . . .
The plot of the book revolves around a “wonder drug” botanical medicine that will save countless lives. I started on it before the pandemic, but in a strange “Life imitates Art” twist, I wrote last half of the book during the height of the lockdown here in the U. S. Naturally, it made me think a lot about the terrors of getting sick, and how in our modern world, we’re so extraordinarily lucky that modern medicine can cure so many things that were fatal during the Regency.

When Natures Erupts . . .

Andrea here, writing this while hurricane warnings are flying fast and furious where I live in New England as Tropical Storm Henri bears down on us. I don’t take this stuff lightly as I was at Ground Zero when Hurricane Sandy and experienced first-hand how devastating Nature can be.

Climate threats seem to be intensifying all over the world, from the terrible fires in Australia and the Western United States to catastrophic flooding in Europe and Asia, as well as droughts and dangerous heat waves in areas that haven’t suffered such things before. It’s terrifying, but it got me to thinking about the history, and how natural disasters had a profound effect on past eras, too.

Going Down the (Research) Rabbit Hole

Andrea here, musing on the stories we authors tell, and what sparks them. I get asked a lot about how I come up with ideas, and it’s impossible to give a simple answer. Inspiration comes in an infinite number of ways—many of them totally unexpected! And those serendipitous discoveries of fun things to weave into a plot often come from what many of us authors call the “Rabbit Hole” effect.

Sooo, what’s a Rabbit Hole? It’s what happens when I do a quick google search, meaning to spend a few minutes checking a simple fact or researching a specific fact . . . and lo and behold, some other detail within the text catches my eye. That results in another search, which leads to more fascinating details that draw me deeper and deeper into—you guessed it—the Rabbit Hole. (It can sometimes take hours to emerge!) (Above: Ernst Hermann Joseph von Münch)

How Stories Come to Life

Andrea here, breathing a happy sigh. It’s always a good feeling to finish a manuscript, fiddle and fret over the last little revisions, and then draw a deep breath and press SEND to my editor. The story is a new Wrexford & Sloane mystery, which is slated to publish in September of 2022. (Publishing schedules gets very disorienting for authors . . . my head is still percolating with the plots of this one, but as I gear up to begin promo for my upcoming September release, I have to return to a previous murder investigation . . .)

So, am I putting my feet and having my editorial assistants bring me melon by the pool? (I wish . . . but they’ve informed me that they are taking a summer vacation, leaving me to fend for myself.) The truth is, I already have snippets of ideas dancing around in my head for the next book . . .This is the time when I collect all those shiny little baubles—a place, a person, a “MacGuffin” that I think would be fun to weave into a plot—and put them in a folder. (That’s the easy part! When I get to the middle of the next manuscript, I’m usually gnashing my teeth and asking “Why did I ever think this was a good idea?”)

But I’m digressing . . .

One of the baubles for my next manuscript is Oxford University’s Merton College, in which I set a scene in the book that I just sent off. Sometimes history is such fun in that it gives an author a perfect plot scenarios from real life. I won’t talk too much about the specifics, since the book won’t be out for over a year, but there was a wonderful gathering of foreign monarchs and dignitaries in Oxford for several days, which allowed for some very fun skullduggery to take place at the actual events that happened within university—especially in Merton College.

Getting Up Close and Personal with History

Andrea here, thinking today about history. Those of you who read our blog regularly know how passionate all the Wenches are about history—not the dull, dry textbook litany of facts and dates that make most students fall asleep in school, but the myriad visceral experiences that make the past really come alive.

Recent posts here showed Christina sitting in a Viking longboat and Nicola exploring an historic castle. Seeing and touching history sparks a sense of wonder and excitement. Getting a glimpse of what people ate and wore . . . what their houses looked like . . . appreciating the details of their timepieces and personal jewelry. I find that helps me imagine what people in past were thinking; what mattered to them; what sparked a sense of wonder for them.

Turning Over a New Leaf . . .

Andrea here. As summer begins to unfurl here where I live in New England, the profusion of colors and textures—both wild and cultivated—coming to life have me thinking about gardens. Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I am NOT a gardener. Other than the annual rite of planting impatiens in the big urns on my entrance steps and herbs on my deck, I don’t have the patience to dig and weed, and work toward a vision that may take years to come to fruition. But I truly appreciate the artistry, and am grateful to those who have a passion for cultivating the earth.

My recent walks reminded me of a fascinating story in botanical history. One of the many books (too many—I really need more bookshelves1) stacked on the overflow table of my TBR and Keeper piles is The Brother Gardeners, by Andrea Wulf. It’s wonderful history revolving around a small group of men who started the movement of trading seeds and specimen plantings between America and Britain, which changed the face of the English landscape.

At the heart of the story is Peter Collinson, who was born into a prosperous English mercantile Quaker family. His father was a cloth merchant, dealing in high quality fabric both in Britain and its American colonies. Collinson, who couldn’t attend university in England because of his religion, took over the family business. But his real passion was botany.

2021 Anniversary Blog, Part 1

You're invited to the Word Wenches' Anniversary Garden Party! (Part 1)

Collected by Mary Jo

The Word Wenches blog is 15 years old!  This is ancient beyond words in internet terms, yet we're still here because we love talking about our books and our travels and delicious odd bits of history. Most of all, we like the chance to interact with our readers. 

Our characters have so much to say that this blog will be divided in two with Part 2 posted on Monday the 24th.

The invitations are going out now.  Will you join us?

 

Sweatpants Chic!

Andrea here. One thing I’ve noticed during the pandemic shutdown is how many more people I see outdoors exercising—from running, biking, golfing, tennis . . . or just walking the dog or enjoying a leisurely stroll. With so many of our normal activities curtailed (thank heavens things are beginning to open up again) getting outside and moving has been a welcome interlude amid all the hours spent indoors at home.

Seeing all the physical activity got me to thinking about athletic clothing. You know—sneakers, sweatpants, t-shirts, synchilla vests, running tights, and all the other accouterments. And it struck how much the gym look has become our new normal. Admit it—when was the last time you put on a pair of pants with a waistband and zipper? (My answer is a little frightening!) I can’t remember the last time I saw a man in business suit . . .

The Nitty-Gritty on Dukes

Andrea here, musing today about . . . dukes. It’s hard not to think about them, as these days, every Regency romance novel seems to have “duke” in the title. Which would logically lead one to imagine that in Britain, dukes are a farthing a dozen.

But not so! A cursory glance at Debrett’s, the bible of the British peerage, quickly corrects that fantasy. So I thought it would very fun—and very educational—to take quick look at the reality of dukes and dukedoms in order to have a more accurate idea picture of the past and the present. (Above: the 18th Duke of Norfolk at his estate.)

Why Pseudonyms?

By Mary Jo

Today's Ask A Wench was inspired by a question from regular reader Pamela DG, who wanted to know why authors use pseudonyms.  I said the answer was complicated and worthy of a blog. For asking the question, Pamela will get a book from me. 

Writing with a pseudonym, a name not one's own, can occur for any number or reasons.  The Wenches explain why:

From Nicola

I’ve never written under a pseudonym. This was not a conscious decision. I was literally so naïve when I was first published that it did not cross my mind to consider it. This seems remarkable to me now but I had had no experience of the publishing world other than a godmother who wrote religious books under her own name. I quickly came to regret my naivety. For a number of years I wrote historical romance for Mills & Boon alongside working as an academic registrar in a university. One day a mischievous colleague read out a passage from one of my books in a meeting, which was quite embarrassing. I wasn’t ashamed of the books or that I had written them but I didn’t want my writing and my other work life to cross over.

Once I started to write full time it didn’t matter at all and it’s never really given me any problems since. There has only been one odd occasion when a publisher kept referring to Nicola Cornick as my pseudonym and refused to accept that it wasn’t!  That said, if I was starting over again knowing what I do now, I’d probably use a pseudonym. I don’t dislike my name but it does give you the opportunity to call yourself something you’ve always wanted to be! One of the reasons I like my Czech editions is that I love being called Cornickova!  

Spring Flings!

Andrea here, and very happy that here where I live, I’m beginning to see signs of Spring finally starting to push aside the chill of Winter. Leaves are budding and flowers are starting to unfurl, adding tantalizing touches of color to the muted shades of the landscape. The air is warming, allowing hats, scarves and parkas to be hung in the storage . . .

February and March always feel endless here, and I am SO looking forward to spending more time outdoors—in shorts and T-shirts!—as the days grow delightfully longer. After all the isolation of the past year, the coming warm weather feels even sweeter as we (carefully) begin to tiptoe back to some semblance of normal activities.

So, in celebration of all fun seasonal activities ahead, I thought I’d compose a list—admittedly a silly one—of all the things I love about getting outside in warm weather . . . with a Regency twist!

Armchair Adventuring

Andrea here, As the first day of Spring creeps closer, I’m also musing on a far more sobering mark on the calendar. For me, this week marks the one year anniversary of start of the pandemic lockdown in my local area. And though there are now some glimmers of light—there’s limited indoor dining, schools have re-opened for hybrid learning—most of us still feel restricted in the things we can do.

One of the things I miss most is traveling, especially as the days grow longer and weather warms up, inviting one to get up and go explore! But as hopping on a plane to some faraway place doesn’t yet feel like a good plan, I’ve been doing some fun armchair adventuring instead, traveling to exotic destinations. So, I thought I’d invite to take trip with me down the Nile!

The Most Mysterious Book in the World

Andrea here, musing about . . . mysteries. I’m in the beginning stages of plotting my next Wrexford & Sloane mystery, and starting a new story always makes me reflect on conundrums and why the urge to solve them seems to be coded in our DNA. Whether it’s finding the perpetrator of a crime, learning the identity of a nameless portrait or cracking a code, we seem to driven by a certain primal curiosity to find answers . . .

Now it so happens that I was recently chatting with some librarians and the subject of bibliographic mysteries came up. And one of them mentioned the biggest of them all—The Voynich Manuscript, a 15th century codex (codex is defined as an ancient manuscript in book form) that has bedeviled all attempts to decipher its mysterious text to this day. So . . . as books and mysteries are two subjects near and dear to my heart, I thought it would be fun to take a quick look at the history of this beguiling codex—many call it the most mysterious book in the world— and why it has stumped all experts cryptographers, linguistic experts, bibliophiles and problem solvers who have taken a crack at it.

Ask a Wench for February: The Perfect Romance Convention

Joanna here, thinking how nice it would be to get away from all this rain.

Which leads to how the Wenches from time to time go to Writers’ Conferences where they attend sessions that help make them better writers and give talks that help other writers do the same, but mostly they hang out in coffee shops and gossip with friends because that’s what folks do at conferences.

So ... what would be the most interesting spot for a conference if you could pick any time and place whatsoever?

Some thoughts on this.

 

Pat:  Oh my, this poses entirely too many choices. I’ll simply go with the first one that pops to mind—

Ranelagh. Maybe Mozart is playing
(Click on the image for a close up_

Ranelagh Gardens in its heyday, about 1765 when the likes of Mozart played in a rotunda painted by Canaletto.  Vauxhall would be another choice, but I like warmth, and the rotunda was heated.

Neither of them are available today in all their glory, so it would be a great joy to see how they looked as our characters wandered about, rubbing elbows with dukes and princes in the case of Ranelagh, and with maids and merchants if we choose Vauxhall.

We could have sessions with genuine lords and ladies and ask them all those eternal questions on how they wish to be addressed (do you really wish to be addressed as Your Grace, Duke? Or would your closest friend address you by the name you had growing up, Kingsley, as in Marquess of?). I would not presume to give a talk on the address question, but I would be happy to speak to The Future and Women’s Rights in Our Novels, if asked.

Cover Tales

By Mary Jo

Book covers are an enduring subject of  interest and debate for both authors and readers. Receiving one's first book cover is a moment of high anticipation. 

Is the cover attractive? Does it accurately represent the type of book it is? 

Do the models look anything like the characters within the covers? 

Does the heroine have three arms?  (Yes, that happened, and no one noticed until the book came out. <G>)

 

Why Do Regency Heroines Swoon?

Andrea here, musing on “the Swoon,” one of the traditional minor but memorable secondary tropes of Regency romances. Fainting is far less prevalent in today’s historical novels—or it's used for tongue-in-cheek effect—as women aren’t as apt to be portrayed weak, flighty creatures. (What self-respecting modern heroine would fall into a faint at the first sign of trouble or bad news? These days, if accosted by a villain, she would likely punch him in the nose rather than swoon and hope to be rescued by her hero!)

But all jesting aside . . . the phenomenon of fainting from an emotional trigger (shocking news, fear, anxiety, etc) is actually a real medical condition called Vasovagal syncope. It happens when the part of the nervous system that controls heart rate and blood pressure reacts to stress. The heart slows, blood pressure suddenly drops, the blood vessels widen in your legs, causing the blood to drop to the lower extremities, thus oxygen has a hard time getting to the brain. So you, um, swoon. (It’s often called the Vagal Response because the vagus nerve is involved in controlling the blood vessels, and when it’s overstimulated by stress, unpleasant things can happen!)

How do I know this? Well . . .

 

An Ode to the Unsung Heroes and Heroines of History

Andrea here, In honor of Martin Luther King Day, a national holiday here in America, I’m going to highlight a wonderful story of a remarkable figure in history, whose contribution to enriching the artistic tapestry of history has long been lost in the shadows.

As I’ve mentioned here before, I love that historians are bringing to light so many people who’ve been ignored by the traditional narratives of history. It’s inspiring in so many ways, and makes the past come alive with all its real textures and colors.

The New York Times has been running a series of articles on some of these unsung heroes and heroines, so I’m going summarize one of them that caught my fancy—the story of George Bridgetower by Patricia Morrisoe. Bridgetower was a biracial virtuoso violin prodigy who won Beethoven’s admiration—and in fact, the famous Kreutzer Sonata was dedicated to him. (You can read the full article here.)

Resolved . . .

Andrea here, The start of a new year is the traditional time for reflection and making resolutions for the the coming twelve months. (But of course, the weekend didn't count as the new year yet, as we get a pass on extra holiday frivolities until the start of the first work day of January . . . though the concept of the work day has, like so many traditions, become rather fluid because of the pandemic.)

Anyway, now that I've had an extra three days to scarf up sweets before beginning the spartan dieting of January, I'm now getting serious about what resolutions I'd like to make for 2021. There are a number of things on the list, (one of them being to stop baking so many chocolate chip blondies) but the first and foremost one deals with my writing process, During the pandemic shelter-in-place, I spent a lot more time in my writing room working on various projects, and I had a lot of time to reflect on process . . . or rather my lack of it.

I am a pantser (i.e. I write by the seat of my pants.) I usually have a very good idea of the first few scenes. (I think of this as the Magpie Effect. I see a shiny little bauble—that first cool beginning—and immediately bring it back to the writing nest. Alas, the shine soon wears off and I’m left thinking, why did I ever think this was a good idea?) As a famous director once said, “Good ideas are a dime a dozen. It’s the ‘what’s next” that kills you.”

Now, I do have a vague idea of what’s going to happen in the end. But then there’s that vast, amorphous middle . . . which leaves me making it up as I go along. There are also days when it feels like my characters are making it up as they go along. I sometimes push back from my computer after 8 hours of writing and say, “Hmmm, that’s interesting. I didn’t know they where going to do THAT!” There's a certain degree of spontaneity and "ah-ha moments" when one works this way, It can be fun, but it's also very stressful. There's the inevitable anxiety when things are going slowly.

My brain seems wired to work this way, and I've always sort-of accepted that. However, as I said, there has been a lot of time to think on this, and I'm resolved to try to change some things going forward. I want to push myself to plot and outline with more detail. Seeing all the pieces more clearly will, I think, help me sharpen conflicts and relationships, and maybe tighten my prose. I'm under no illusion that it will be easy. Habit and patterns are really hard to break. But I hope I can challenge myself to get out of my comfort zone. I think I will be a better writer for doing so . . . and my editorial assistants have sharpened their pencils and promised to poke me if I start whinging.

So that's my new years' resolution. Are there any ones—large or small—that you care to share?

Exercising Your Demons!

Andrea here, thinking today on how we’re all spending a lot more time at home . . . and some of the ramifications involved in sheltering-in-place, especially as here in the northern hemisphere we’re fast approaching the heart of winter . . . which make it even more inviting to curl up in front of the fire with good book and a cup of cocoa.

And maybe cookies. Or chocolate . . .

Pandemic baking is one of those ramifications. NOT that I’m guilty of overindulging in sweets. (Pssst, this Andrea’s editorial assistant, and just so you know, a batch of chocolate-chip blondies just came out of the oven. But you didn’t hear that from me!) Okay, well, maybe I do have a few extra “comfort” treats. The Wenches have been sharing recipes with each other, and so many of them look SO good. (Anne and Christina have been especially bad at leading us astray!) But after all, it wouldn’t be the holidays without sugar and spice. (And butter.)

Planting the Seeds of Knowledge

Andrea here, musing today about medicine. It’s a subject much on our collective minds right now as we hope the best and brightest scientific minds around the world will soon come up with safe and effective vaccine to combat the deadly COVID virus. So, as we all could use some cheery thoughts, I’m talking today about one of the bright spots in medical history here in America during the late 18th and early 19th centuries.

We’ve made such inroads in combating diseases that once devastated populations, so I think we tend to forget how frightening and deadly so many forces of Nature—germs, microbes, bacteria, viruses—were in the past. As the Age of Enlightenment encouraged scientific inquiry and empirical observation, a new breed of physicians were beginning to look past the traditional ideas on illness—many of them left over from the ancient Greek philosophers—in order to understand how better to treat maladies.

I first met David Hosack in American Eden—David Hosack, Botany, and Medicine in the Garden of the Early Republic, Victoria Johnson’s marvelous book on America’s first botanic garden. Born in New York City in 1769, David Hosack was the son of a well-to-do merchant from Elgin, Scotland and his wife. He was educated at Columbia College, where he became fascinated with the study of medicine. He finished his studies at the College of New Jersey (now known as Princeton) and then went on to study medicine in Philadelphia, where he wrote his doctoral thesis on cholera. In 1791, he married and started a private practice in Virginia, but then returned to New York City a year later.

The Writer's Lucky Charm

The Unnamed Bear

Joanna here, considering the delicate question of lucky objects for writers.

I have my own lucky object, a small brown Beanie Baby bear. It was sent to me by my first fiction editor after publication of my very first fiction book back in 1983.

He is ... unnamed. I think it’s because he is unique and therefore doesn’t need a name.

My bear sits on my desk and holds my glasses and is one of a half dozen object that have kept me company from desk to desk and country to country, over the years, waiting patiently while I wrote, or surfed the web, or read books on the computer, or tried to figure out if houses in 750 BCE Europe were covered with whitewashed wattle and daub or the relative cost of sweet oranges in London in 1800.

Is he lucky for me?
I think of him mostly as company,
But maybe he’s lucky.

A Love Letter to Libraries

Andrea here, musing on libraries—brick and mortar libraries—and how much they have had an influence on my life. The pandemic has made me aware of many everyday pleasures that may be small ones, but are things I have missed very much during the lockdown we’ve all experienced over the past half a year.

Libraries visits are one of them. The access to digital books through my local library’s app and website has been a godsend during the isolation, but the recent progress in my town, allowing the physical libraries (we have three!) to to provide curbside pick-up—and also to open for two hours each day for very limited browsing of the new acquisitions—has made me happier than I expected. The sight of the shelves with all those glorious books, the scent of paper . . . they stir fond memories, going back to my childhood.

What We're Reading--September 2020

Pat here, hosting our monthly wench book review event. We have way too much fun behind the scenes reading each other's recommendations and adding to our TBR piles! We have some great ones this month. And just to keep the bookstores (or libraries) busy, we welcome all reader recommendations in the comments below.

Christina:

I haven’t been reading much this month, but I couldn’t resist picking up The Sea Gate by Jane Johnson because the cover really appealed to me and I love stories set in Cornwall. This is a gripping and engrossing dual time story, alternating between the present and World War II. And although I don’t normally read much from this period, The Sea Gate gave a whole new perspective on things as the story takes place in a small fishing village on the coast. Here, the war seems far away, but it has a way of finding the protagonists all the same. For 16-year old Olivia, it changes her life in numerous ways, and has repercussions that resonate throughout her long life. In the present, we meet her again as an irascible old lady in her nineties, and I absolutely loved her character! She is refreshingly direct and downright rude, and the sheer strength of her will is remarkable. The story in the present mainly centres on a young relative, however, Rebecca, who has been through the wringer in more ways than one. Lacking in self-confidence and suffering from anxiety and depression, coming to Cornwall to help the elderly Olivia is the making of her. I so enjoyed watching her going from doormat to roaring lion – a favourite trope of mine – and was cheering her on, hoping for a happy resolution to all her problems. I highly recommend this novel to anyone who loves dual time stories and/or tales of World War II – it’s wonderful!

Every Mystery Needs a Villain . . .

Andrea here, starting to get excited that Murder on Queen’s Landing, my latest Wrexford & Sloane Regency mystery, releases on Tuesday! It’s always a thrill when a book is close to getting into the hands (or ears!) of readers, as that’s what makes all the angst and gnashing of teeth within the solitary confinement of the writing room worthwhile.

And it also makes me reflect on what a long process it is to bring a mystery from the initial “hmm, what if . . .” to weaving all the threads together (without tying myself in knots!) to handing in a finished manuscript and finally seeing a printed book!

For me, research is always a huge part of the early stages. I like to base my stories around scientific discoveries or technical advances in the Regency, and then figure out how create a mystery with them interacting with some aspect of the era’s rich history. And then, of course, you need to figure out a villain—which isn’t always as easy as it might seem. However, in this book, in which I wanted to create a scheme that involved skullduggery in finance and commerce, an obvious villain leapt to mind . . .

Thinking Outside the Corset!

Andrea here, musing today on women in historical fiction who don’t behave as they are “supposed” to behave. Murder at Queen’s Landing, my new Wrexford & Sloane mystery releases on September 29th, and I have to confess, my women protagonists are not the sort who sit demurely in the drawing rooms of Mayfair, sipping tea and chatting about fashionable styles of ballgowns.

Nope—they’re out creating “good” trouble . . . dressing as men, using their heads as more than perches for extravagant bonnets, running profitable businesses . . .

Let There Be Light . . . and Wind and Water

Andrea here, musing today about light, wind and water. Umm, no, I’m not taking up meteorology as a second career. It's just that I’ve always enjoyed taking a daily walk outdoors. I find it clears the head in so many ways—it is, quite literally, a breath of fresh air for both body and mind.

And with the pandemic shutting down so many of our normal activities, I’ve found my daily walks have become even more important, both physically and mentally. Because of my art background, I enjoy observing the little visual details around me, especially the ethereal beauty of light, wind and water. The stresses of COVID have me appreciating those little everyday wonders even more. (Right: J.M.W. Turner)

Crossing Swords with Traditional History

Andrea here, musing again on how our fresh perspectives on history continue to weave such exciting new threads into the tapestry of the past. I love learning about extraordinary people whose stories never got told in the traditional narratives, especially when it’s someone whose life intersects with the Regency era. So I was absolutely enthralled by a recent article in the New York Times on Joseph Bolougne, Chevalier de Saint-Georges.

A champion fencer . . . a virtuoso violinist and composer of classical music whose sonatas influenced Mozart . . . conductor of the leading symphony orchestra in Paris . . . a man at home in the cultured salons of Paris who hobnobbed with the Prince Regent in London . . . The Chevalier was also famous “across the Pond”—in fact John Adams called him “the most accomplished man in Europe in riding, shooting, fencing, dancing and music.”

So why have most of us never heard of him? Well, my guess would be that it’s because Joseph Boulogne is the son of a wealthy Frenchman with plantations in Guadaloupe and Ann Nanon, his wife’s enslaved African maid.

By the Numbers!

Andrea here, musing on a question we authors get a LOT from readers—where do you get your inspiration for a story? Well, in the case of my Wrexford & Sloane Regency-set historical mystery series, the answer is science. Okay, okay, I know that doesn’t sound sexy. But . . . um, actually it is. Allow me to explain.

Think of all the techno-thrillers today—be it in books, movies, television—that are based technology and its effect on our lives. We’re all aware of what a hold technology has over us—and yes, it’s scary! Thus authors and screenwriters can use that to their advantage. But the idea of technology as both Good and Evil is nothing new. So I’ve had great fun using technology as the main plot point in my mysteries. The latest book in the series, Murder at Queen’s Landing, which releases in September, is no exception! I’ll get to that in a moment, let’s take a quick overview of the subject.

 

What We're Reading in June

The Word Wenches have been reading the most lovely books.

Mary Jo's recommendations for this month include one of my own old favorites.

Mary Jo:

I've read some new books this last month, but the only stories that really grabbed me were two oldies.  The first was Mary Stewart's The Ivy Tree.  We've discussed Mary Stewart here before--the Wenches are major fans and she shaped the writing for several of us, me included.

The Ivy Tree was the first Mary Stewart I ever read, in a condensed version in my mother's Ladies Home Journal.  I was riveted, and the big story twist was like being clubbed. (I'm harder to surprise now, but it's still one heck of a twist. <G>) 

Stewart is marvelous in her descriptions of story settings, and she makes a Northumberland summer come alive with sensual warmth.  Good suspense and romance, too.  (A lot of smoking goes on, as in most of Stewart's books, a sign of the changing times.)  It's still a wonderful story. 

My other favorite book is Sarah-Kate Lynch's The Wedding Bees, which I learned about on an earlier WWR.  I think it was recommended by Anne Gracie and Pat Rice.  I was a little wary, not being over fond of stinging insects, but within a couple of chapters, I was hooked.  It's kind of magical realism with the heroine, Sugar Wallace, exiled from her beloved Southern home and each year moving herself and her bees to a new city chosen by her queen bee, one of a succession of Elizabeths.  (The current queen is Elizabeth the 6th.)

This time she's led to New York City in an apartment with a great views, a terrace for her bees, and a half dozen other units in the building occupied by miserable people.  Sugar is a healer with both her honey and her warmth, and by the end of the book, everyone in the building is happy, and they and her bees have healed her into happiness and love. A delightful story.

 

Susan brings us a most interesting mystery series and a rather famous book about writing itself.

 

Susan:  This round, I read something new to me and something much-read (I won't mention the stack of to-be-reads, half-reads, meant-to-finishes, and forgot-I-hads that I didn't get through!). I'm leisurely making my way through Elly Griffiths' Ruth Galloway mystery series, picking one up now and then, and Dying Fall was a very good point in the series, about halfway through so far. Archaeologist and forensic bone specialist Dr. Ruth Galloway--single mom to a toddler she shares with Nelson, a local detective chief inspector--is drawn into a major archaeological discovery by an old friend who is soon murdered.

The Nurture of Nature

“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul.” —John Muir

Andrea here, The Summer Solstice took place this past Saturday where I live (those of you in the Southern hemisphere had, of course, the Winter Solstice.) I always love the longest day of the year, and the golden glow of sunset stretching into the evening. It got me to thinking about Nature, and how aside from the four dates marking the change in season, we rarely stop and think about our connection to the rhythms and cycles of the natural world.

My musings were also sparked by the PBS series by Ken Burns on the history of the American National Parks, which I have been streaming over the last week. (you can see it here) In this troubling time of ills, both natural and man-made, I found it to be incredibly uplifting and inspiring.

“Keep close to Nature's heart... and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.”
—John Muir

Americans are polarized about so many things these days, so it’s heartening to watch a show about what writer Wallace Stegner has called “the best idea we (Americans) ever had.” The idea of setting aside grand swaths natural beauty for posterity first took shape within another time of great conflict for America. In 1864, during the midst of the Civil War, President Lincoln signed the Yosemite Land Grant bill, giving the Yosemite Valley and the Mariposa Grove of giant sequoia trees to the state of California “upon the express conditions that the premises shall be held for public use, resort, and recreation.”