Kathryn Nelson's Blog, page 2

Genuine Heroines - Mary Seacole

I’m a writer of honest fantasy, genuine heroines and wellness wisdom.

Genuine heroines are women who are tough, yet kind, who can rescue themselves, yet welcome the support of friends. They don’t wear bikini armour and they don’t fight hordes of baddies after three days of no sleep and no food. Inspired by genuine heroines throughout history, I write female characters with depth, complexity and passion

Therefore, I’m continuing a new series of blog posts about historical female characters who I have found inspirational. There are explorers, adventurers, healers, rights activists and world changers. These are real world characters with exceptional stories that I’m excited to share with you.

This month it's Mary Seacole – heroine of the Crimean War.

Mary was born in Jamaica in 1805, the daughter of a Scottish Lieutenant in the British army and a free black woman who owned a boarding house. Mary’s mother was a doctoress who used Caribbean and African traditional herbalism. From her, Mary learnt about the importance of good hygiene, proper ventilation, hydration, nutrition, rest, kindness and care in a role that combined midwife, masseuse, nurse, doctor and counsellor.

Mary worked in her mother’s boarding house, looking after military officers recovering from illnesses and injuries. At that time, there was a large British naval presence to protect local merchant activity and many succumbed to tropical diseases.

In her twenties, Mary stayed with relatives in London for a year and travelled throughout the Caribbean, returning to Jamaica to marry Edwin Seacole in 1836. Sadly, Edwin died eight years later.

In 1850, Mary’s brother, Edward moved to Panama to set up a hotel on the route between the Atlantic and Pacific coasts of America, and a year later, Mary joined him. Shortly after she arrived, there was an outbreak of cholera (a bacterial infection which causes diarrhoea) and Mary nursed many patients, even those who could not afford to pay her. She herself caught cholera, recovering after several weeks of rest.

In 1953, Mary travelled to England, wanting to support British efforts in the Crimean War. In Jamaica, she had nursed a number of the troops which were now being redeployed to the Crimean peninsular in the Black Sea where an alliance of the United Kingdom, France, the Kingdom of Sardinia and the Ottoman Empire were fighting against the Russian Empire. Conditions even at the start of the war were terrible, with outbreaks of cholera and other diseases claiming many lives. The hospitals for the ill and wounded were unhygienic and poorly resourced.

Mary applied to the War Office to go Crimea as a nurse but was refused, so she used her own funds to ship supplies and travelled out there as a volunteer. She built the British Hotel out of salvaged materials which offered sleeping quarters, meals and an assortment of supplies, as well as medical aid. Mary often went out on to the battlefield, tending to wounded soldiers and providing food, drink and comfort. Whilst wounded troops were waiting to be shipped to hospital, sometimes as many as two hundred a day, Mary provided hot tea, a vital boost to moral.

Her combination of kindness, care and consideration to all indiscriminately, alongside her skills as a healer, whilst being an independent black woman in the 1800’s made Mary Seacole the heroine of the Crimean War.

After the War ended in 1856, Mary returned to London and published her autobiography, Wonderful Adventures of Mrs. Seacole in Many Lands, a year later. She lived in Jamaica in the 1860’s before moving back to London where she died in 1881.

Mary Seacole reminds me of Lowenna who is a healer in my Ethra Born series. Her core tenets are care, compassion and contemplation. She has skills not only in herbalism and the practical skills necessary for healing illnesses and injuries, but also understands that the patient is a whole being requiring good hygiene, nutrition and comfort alongside compassion, kindness and understanding. Like Mary, Lowenna treats poor and rich equally. Mary’s a real life inspiration for fictional characters who are generous, nurturing people.

Genuine Heroines - Gudrid

I’m a writer of honest fantasy, genuine heroines and wellness wisdom.

Genuine heroines are women who are tough, yet kind, who can rescue themselves, yet welcome the support of friends. They don’t wear bikini armour and they don’t fight hordes of baddies after three days of no sleep and no food. Inspired by genuine heroines throughout history, I write female characters with depth, complexity and passion

Therefore, I’m starting a new series of blog posts about historical female characters who I have found inspirational. They are explorers, adventurers, healers, rights activists and world changers. These are real world characters with exceptional stories that I’m excited to share with you.

First up:

Gudrid Thorbjarnardóttir – the Far Traveller

Over a thousand years ago, in Iceland, Chieftain Thorbjorn of Laugarbrekka had a daughter, Gudrid. When she was of age, a young man named Einar proposed to her but Thorbjorn refused the offer of marriage because Einar was the son of a slave. Instead, Gudrid married Thorir, a Norwegian merchant.

Thorbjorn, Gudrid and Thorir set sail for Greenland but their voyage was troubled by poor weather and illness, with many of their crew dying. During their first winter in Greenland, Thorir took ill and died.

Gudrid then married Thorstein Eiriksson who was Erik the Red’s son. Erik the Red, so named for the colour of his hair and beard, was born in Norway but moved to Iceland when his father was exiled. Erik, in turn, was exiled from Iceland for three years and so moved to Greenland.

Gudrid and Thorstein travelled to Vinland (an area around the Gulf of Saint Lawrence, Canada) but Thorstein became ill and died.

Gudrid moved back to Greenland and married the Greenland merchant Thorfinn Karlsefni. Gudrid wanted to establish a settlement in Vinland, so led an expedition of over sixty people, along with livestock and cargo. Whilst living in Vinland, Gudrid had a son who she named Snorri Thorfinnsson.

However, when Snorri was three years old, they moved back to Iceland. There Gudrid had another son, named Thorbjorn, before her husband, Thorfinn, died.

During her lifetime, there was a transition from the pagan Norse religion to Christianity. One evening, whilst Gudrid and her father were staying with friends, a seeress asked for the women present to help her sing protection songs as part of a ritual. Gudrid joined the seeress in chanting the ward songs, as she was taught the words by her mother.

However, Gudrid later converted to Christianity and, after the death of her third husband, made a pilgrimage from Iceland all the way to Rome and back. When she returned, she became a nun and lived in the church that Snorri had built.

Gudrid was a remarkable woman, surviving three husbands and travelling between Iceland, Greenland, North America and across Europe. She inspires me to write characters who are adventurous, tenacious and brave.

#TeamSeas

Team Seas is aiming to raise $30 million by the end of the year to help reduce plastic waste in the ocean. For very $1 donated, one pound of plastic will be removed from the sea, beaches and rivers. So raising $30 million will mean 30 million pounds (15 thousand tons) less plastic in the sea.

This initiative was set up by You Tubers Mark Rober and MrBeast and the money will be split between The Ocean Cleanup and Ocean Conservancy. The details, including how to donate are on the Team Seas website: https://teamseas.org/

I used to be a marine biologist, before I became a writer, so this is a subject close to my heart. Plastic can take a really long time to break down and, floating around in the ocean, animals can become entangled in it or they can eat it by mistake. Also, plastic can adsorb pollutants, making it even more toxic if ingested. Plastic has been found in the stomachs of many species of marine birds, turtles, whales, dolphins and fish. Eight years ago, I published scientific research showing that microplastic ingested by mussels can be transferred to crabs who ate the mussels and that the microplastic can stay within the crabs' bodies for over three weeks.

There are numerous organisations making great progress on reducing plastic in the ocean. There are initiatives which remove plastic from the sea, from beaches and from rivers, as well as reducing the sources of plastic pollution. Less single use plastic and proper waste management facilities can help.

Team Seas will work with the Ocean Conservancy to organise beach clean ups around the world, building on work they have been doing for the past 30 years, as well as collecting lost, abandoned and discarded fishing gear. Working with the Ocean Cleanup, plastic floating down rivers will be collected by a specialist barge. Research has shown that 1% of rivers account for nearly 80% of plastic waste flowing from rivers, so these will be targeted first.

How you can help

Donate to the Team Seas campaign: https://teamseas.org/ Even just $1 (£0.74) will make a difference. Also like, share, talk about, promote the Team Seas campaign. Join a local beach clean or litter picking event, for example the Marine Conservation Society's beach cleans . Consider how you can reduce the use of plastic in your life. There's some ideas from the Plastic Free July challenge.

I don't normally do these sorts of promotions but, as I said, this one's close to my heart. The ocean is an incredible, awe inspiring place which deserves our care and respect.

Book excerpt

Below is an excerpt from Risking Honesty in which Lowenna is talking to Karnoss about how she is continuing to struggle to come to terms with all that is entailed in being Ethra born. She draws on events which took place in Gathering Darkness and Strengthening Spirit to illustrate her perception that her powers have caused disruption and misery in her life. Karnoss suggests that those events weren’t her fault and that she needs to accept who she is and embrace the potential she holds.

Risking Honesty is available now on Amazon where you can read the full story.

“Lowenna, you must accept who you are. You are Ethra born.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t want to be. All it means is death and misery, nightmares and fear.”

“It doesn’t have to. Look at what you have done here, this luscious beauty. Remember what you did when you healed my forest of the parasitic illness.”

“I was raised by priestesses to believe that the Goddess is good and generous, kind and wise. I used to pray to Her to protect me from the nightmares which have always haunted my sleep, with lingering terror filling my days. I saw things as a child that no one should witness. When I discovered that I was Ethra born, I realised that the Goddess that I had been praying to for protection, had been the one torturing me.”

“Lowenna.” Karnoss laid a hand on her arm. She kept her attention on the fish swimming around the edge of the pool.

“When I realised that I was Ethra born, at first I was awed, excited. However, as soon as I acknowledged who I was, Mortimer tried to kill me. I had to go against everything that I had been taught, everything I believed in, in order to defeat him. I couldn’t let him kill any more people. He had already killed Shang-Lae and Lochlan and so many more. They died because of me, because Mortimer wanted an Ethra born.”

Lowenna paused to wipe away the tears rolling down her cheeks. Karnoss waited patiently, without interrupting.

“Even you were harmed because of who I am. Because Azarius wanted my power, he brought disease to your forest.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that. Azarius’ actions were not your fault, nor Mortimer’s. They were unkind, selfish people whose actions harmed others. You were courageous to use your power to stop them.”

“It’s not a power I want. All it means to me is terror and having to do or endure things that I have no control over, that I do not want.”

“You could use your power for good. You could be a healer of great renown, a revered high priestess, a powerful leader.”

Lowenna held out her hand to forestall more words.

“No. I’ve worked hard to learn the healing arts the same way as anyone else. I won’t cheat or disrupt natural processes by using my powers. That wouldn’t be right and I don’t want to draw attention. Azarius and Mortimer have shown me that if anyone knew who I really was, they would use me, cause me harm and risk endangering those I care about. I want to protect Hope and Theo and the life we’ve built together. I wanted Hope to have a family with normal parents, a loving stable upbringing.”

“So, you’ve been ignoring Ethra’s energy within you, denying it, suppressing it,” Karnoss stated.

“I don’t want to be Ethra born.”

Buy Gathering Darkness, Strengthening Spirit and Risking Honesty now!

Publication!

Risking Honesty was released on Friday!

I can’t tell you how excited I am to have published my third novel. Risking Honesty continues the Ethra Born series which started with Gathering Darkness and was followed by Strengthening Spirit. Each novel is set ten years apart and follows Lowenna, a healer priestess in training who is haunted by vivid dreams, as she struggles to come to terms with who she is and the power she holds.

In Gathering Darkness, Lowenna is living in the Temple of the Goddess in Jennston with her adoptive mother and the other priestesses. Her dreams immerse her in the lives of people she has never met. That is until Theo and Kael. She foresees not only their deaths but a way to save them, launching them on an adventure across the country and back, as Lowenna races to discover the truth about herself before the gathering darkness catches up with her.

In Strengthening Spirit, Lowenna is living in the Temple with her husband, Theo, and their adopted daughter, Hope. A decade has passed and they’re settled into the duties and rhythms of the lives they have built. That is until an old friend brings a desperate plea for help and they embark on a quest to rescue their friend, only to discover that all was not as it seemed and that darker, more complex forces are at play.

In Risking Honesty, Lowenna, Theo and Hope are living at Westfalls where they grow medicinal plants. Lowenna is still struggling to come to terms with who she is and all that being Ethra Born entails. She craves the peace and contentment that Theo has found in their rural way of life. It is at Westfalls that Hope meets Harrison, a man who is not at all who he seems to be. An act of compassion sets Hope on a course to distant lands in order to uncover the truth at the core of the treasonous plot in which she has become entangled.

Ethra Born 4 will continue the adventures of Hope and Harrison, delving deeper into Harrison’s homeland and the monsters which lurk in the depths. This is scheduled for release next spring.

Risking Honesty is available now on Amazon!

Deleted scene

Risking Honesty is going to be published on 10th September. Less than two weeks to go! In anticipation, here is a deleted scene, an excerpt from the story, in which Harrison and his friend Tholemew are discussing Hope's training.

Pre-order Risking Honesty now!

Harrison ducked under Thomelew’s punch, his bare feet moving silently over the training room floor. He stepped back out of the way of Tholemew’s kick, then lunged forwards with a double punch to the larger man’s torso. Tholemew grunted and moved back, wiping the sweat off his brow. Whilst he was distracted, Harrison tugged on the end of Thomelew’s beard, leaping back before he could retaliate.

“Oi! That’s not fair,” he grumbled.

Harrison grinned at him, saving his breath for fighting. Tholemew rushed him, using his greater weight and height to rain down a flurry of blows. Harrison stumbled backwards, one fist catching him on the shoulder of his injured arm. He fell to one knee.

Tholemew hesitated, expecting Harrison to yield. Instead, he uncoiled his legs, thrusting upwards, using his bodyweight to back an uppercut to Thomelew’s jaw. He withheld his punch, his fist just kissing Tholemew’s jaw and for a few heartbeats, they stood in tension, a frozen tableau. Then Tholemew threw up his hands and they stepped apart.

“You may have won that one,” said Tholemew, wiping his bald head with a towel, “But how about throwing knives?”

“I’ll even let you go first,” Harrison agreed. He picked up the leather wrap of short throwing knives and handed them over.

Tholemew made a fuss about lining up with the straw dummy target, rolling his shoulders, flexing his wrist, weighing the blade.

“How’s Hope doing with her training?” Harrison asked. Tholemew threw the knife and it struck the centre of the target’s chest.

“Good,” he grunted, throwing the other two knives in quick succession, both thudding into the target next to the first.

“Care to expand on that a little?” asked Harrison with exasperation.

“Are you her teacher or something?” Tholemew had to put his knee against the target in order to draw out the knives.

“Rabbon ordered me to watch her, to assess the extent of her skills. You’re the one who’s been teaching her weaponry, fighting skills, tumblers tricks each morning. How is she? I’ll need to report to the head of the House soon.”

Tholemew handed over the knives, hilts first.

“She’s good. She still needs to build more strength and endurance, but for a healer, she’s a good fighter. She’s a quick learner and has boundless curiosity. She’s intelligent and kind. What about her other lessons?”

Harrison threw the first knife, watching it fly end over end to thud into the target’s chest.

“Adequate. She’s young and innocent, too trusting,” he said, frowning at the knife in his hand. He threw it with force and it buried up to the end of the hilt in the target’s shoulder.

Tholemew chuckled. “You like her.”

Harrison shook his head. “She’s a complication, an inconvenience.”

“She could be a good messenger, a good partner for you. You’ve barely left her side since the pair of you arrived.”

Harrison threw the knife so hard that it plunged through the neck of the dummy and clattered into the wall behind it.

Tholemew chuckled again. “I win,” he declared.

Harrison stalked off across the room to retrieve the knives.

“Where is Hope this evening, anyway? You haven’t left her alone with Jaques have you?”

“He’s teaching her a new card game.”

“He’ll be teaching her something new, for certain, that seducer.”

“I told him not to touch her, warned him that if he did, I would slice off his favourite body part.”

“Now, why would you do that, if you didn’t like her?”

“Because…” Harrison swallowed the words ‘she’s mine’. She wasn’t and he didn’t know why that thought had arisen. He didn’t know why there was an ache in his chest at the thought of her being seduced by Jacques. He had no claim on her. He didn’t like her, despite her bravery and astuteness, her quick wit and compassionate heart. No, he didn’t like her but he had told her that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.

Harrison shoved the throwing knives back in their holster and strode from the room. Maybe he would just check on her…

Backstory

The other day, I found an old notebook with the first chapter of Risking Honesty written in pencil. Sometimes the blank page at the beginning of a story can be a little intimidating; the flashing cursor on screen, the word counter very slowly increasing. Sometimes, handwriting is somehow more natural, easier to make a start, to get the creative river flowing. As Mark Boyle says in The Way Home, 'think twice, write once'.

The first few words of Risking Honesty were written in April 2018. Just as Hope and Harrison embark on a journey, so the creation of this book has been a voyage of discovery. It's taken less time than some stories, longer than others.

It all starts with Hope finding an injured hawk. The inspiration for this came from Tamara Pierce's Wild Magic, a beloved book I have read many times since I was a young adult, not dissimilar in age to the heroine, Daine. Divergence from there, with Harrison's character drawing on influences as diverse as the classic spy James Bond, Ilona Andrew's Hugh d’Ambray and Karen Marie Moning's Barrons.

Whilst Harrison is undeniably a strong character, driving the plot, it is ultimately Hope's story. It's her world which is turned upside down, her life so thoroughly disrupted. It's her courage and resilience we admire, her fortitude and curiosity we cheer.

Hope first entered the Ethra Born series as a new born baby near the end of Gathering Darkness. In Strengthening Spirit, we saw the beginnings of her power, the development of her character. Finally, in Risking Honesty she has her own adventure. She's all grown up, venturing out into the world, facing its dangers and revelling in its mysteries.

Risking Honesty will be released on 10th September in ebook and paperback formats. You can pre-order the ebook now!

Cover reveal

I've finally been able to reveal the cover for Risking Honesty, book 3 in the Ethra Born series!

This has been a few months in the making, on and off, and there's been a few different versions along the way. The first idea was to have an image of Hope and Harrison with his hand over her mouth but it looked too aggressive, too domineering and not actually representative of their dynamic. The second idea was to have Hope's head with multiple copies of her face fading into the background, representing the different roles she takes on during her adventure. Then I tried a close up of a person whispering into another person's ear and also a woman with her finger against her lips, shushing.

Finally, I painted a woman with her own hand over her mouth. It took a while to find the right reference image, where the person was neither surprised nor frightened. Hope is confident, curious. Her hand over her mouth cautions herself to speak carefully, to consider her words and the truth within them.

I wanted the cover image to fit with the title and the theme of the book. The title, too, has been through a number of different iterations. It's difficult to condense a whole novel down into just two representative words, just a few syllables which encompass the whole story. The working title for a long time was Seeking Truth but some research uncovered several other books with similar titles and they were about religion or government corruption, not what my story's about. So, a couple of pages of ideas later, I settled on Risking Honesty.

Risking Honesty is all about secrets and lies, truth and deceit. Hope and Harrison are arrested for a crime they didn't commit. Harrison isn't who he is pretending to be. Together, they have to uncover the true treachery which has infiltrated the King's Watch. They have to risk honesty to find the answers they so desperately need.

Book release announcement

10th September.

Ethra Born 3.

The next instalment in the acclaimed fantasy series.

A decade has passed since the events of Strengthening Spirit. Hope lives with Lowenna and Theo at Westfalls where they grow medicinal herbs for the healer priestesses. There Hope meets Harrison.

Harrison is a man with many secrets. Even Harrison is not his birth name. He's not even really a man, as he can shift into the form of a hawk. He's accused of being a traitor, which he's not. Although he also wasn't the King's Watch officer that he was pretending to be.

Hope heals him, knowing that he is a shifter, a criminal, and then she too, is branded a traitor.

Together, they must uncover the true treachery which has infiltrated the King's Watch and has spread out to the Pinnate Isles. The very Isles from which Harrison was exiled. But if he is to save Hope, his parents and his homeland, he will have to seek the truth in the most unlikely places. He must risk honesty to find the answers he needs.

Hope must decide if she will stand by his side or wonder if she ever really knew him at all.

Anxiety garden

I’d been ready for five minutes, waiting inside by the front door, coat on, bag in hand. I didn’t like to be late. I didn’t want to keep Sue waiting, especially when she had so kindly offered to give me a lift. Mind you, I suppose she knew that I’d never leave the house otherwise.

A blue car pulled up outside, stopping on a double yellow line. Fretful that she’d get a parking ticket, I hurried out through the door, locking it behind me. I’d made it five steps down the garden path before I turned back and checked that the door was locked. It was. I zipped my keys into an inside pocket of my bag and trotted towards the car. Before I crossed the pavement, I paused and looked both ways up and down the street. Sometimes there were youths speeding along on bicycles or kicking balls. What if I knocked into someone in my haste or I was hit by a stray ball? Fortunately, the street was empty except for a woman pushing a pram up near the corner shop.

I climb into the front passenger seat of Sue’s car, put on my seatbelt and clutch my bag in my lap.

“Hi,” I say with a glance in Sue’s direction, my gaze reaching no higher than her midriff.

“Good morning, how are you?” Sue’s voice is melodic and calm.

“Good, fine.”

“Do you remember what we talked about? Do you understand what’s going to happen today?”

I nod. I check my wrist watch. I don’t like to be late. I resist the urge to turn around and see if there is a police car behind us. We’re still parked on the double yellows.

“Are you still alright to do this?”

I nod.

Finally, Sue puts the car in gear and we set off. It’s not a long journey out to the edge of the city. I flinch when a cyclist whizzes past my window as he speeds along the cycle lane as we wait at the traffic lights. I tense when the truck in front of us brakes suddenly. I fiddle with the zipper on my bag.

Thankfully, we make it to the park without mishap and we find a parking space with ease. I was worried that the carpark would be full but we’ve made it with a few minutes to spare. Sue opens my door. I’d been too busy thinking about what we would have done if there hadn’t been any parking to notice that she'd climbed out of the car.

“Come on,” she says.

We walk side by side up the muddy track through the woods. My legs start to ache. I haven’t left the house for weeks and have done very little exercise for a lot longer than that. Sue matches her pace to mine, although I’m sure her athletic frame could move faster.

It’s not far to the site. We pass through a gap in a fence made of woven sticks. Beyond, the ground is carpeted in yellow daffodils beneath small trees. The sun breaks through the clouds and lights up the spring green leaves just starting to unfurl on the branches and highlights the bright yellow flowers, their heavy heads bobbing in the breeze.

There’s a scent that’s clean and fresh, of green growing things emerging from rich soil.

We follow a narrow path through a hedge which is a mix of sharp black thorns and soft white blossoms. In front of us is a huge dome created from trees all grown together. It reminds me of a circle of people with their arms around each other, heads bowed.

As I step inside the living structure, I feel a sense of safety and peace. There are other people already here but I daren’t look up and catch anyone’s attention. I shuffle over to a wooden stool and sit down. Sue sits next to me.

A couple of other people arrive and we all sit in a circle.

A woman with long silver hair starts talking but I find it difficult to concentrate on what she’s saying. I’m afraid that the others are looking at me, that they know that I’m a failure. I’m worried about the exercises we’re going to practise because I know I’m not going to be able to do them. My chest tightens with the onset of a panic attack. I can’t cope. I should have stayed at home.

A bird lands on a branch just outside the dome. It’s tiny and fragile. It would fit easily between my palms. Its plumage is blue and yellow like some exotic creature yet somehow it seems to be right at home here.

I realise that the woman leading the session has stopped talking and I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing. I keep my eyes on the bird. A comforting silence descends, broken only by whispering leaves and distant birdsong.

The bird yawns. I had no idea that birds did that. My lips quirk into a brief smile and the pressure in my chest eases. The bird uses its beak to groom the feathers on its chest and then along the front edge of one of its wings.

I am absorbed, fascinated. My heart swells with a lightness I barely recognise. For a brief moment, I am fully present, wholly engaged in this singular instant. For a moment, I completely forget about fear and anxiety.