Nancy Bilyeau's Blog, page 25

THE CHALICE: No 1. historical thriller on amazon

I'm very excited to share this screengrab:



Because Touchstone (S&S) discounted my second novel, The Chalice, to $1.99, it appeared on a newsletter put out by bookbub, and it seems I have a lot of fresh sales.

What makes this even more awesome is that I am an admirer of Oliver Potzch, so to be sitting next to his book in the amazon rankings for Historical Thriller Bestsellers is like a dream.

The $1.99 discounting on amazon and Barnes & Noble lasts until February 28th! 

Thomas Cromwell, Thomas More and "The Most Hated Man in America"

With the television series "Wolf Hall" stirring up a frenzy of interest in Thomas Cromwell, the brilliant and ruthless chief minister of Henry VIII, I found myself wanting to take another look at the man himself.

By that I don't mean I wanted to look upon the 471-year-old remains of Cromwell, currently interred somewhere beneath the floor of the Chapel of St. Peter-ad-Vincula, in the Tower of London.

No, I yearned to look at the portrait of Cromwell by Hans Holbein the Younger, the best known image of the Lord Privy Seal. And to do that, I needed to head over to 70th Street and Fifth Avenue, in New York City. Inside a beautiful mansion called The Frick Collection you will find Cromwell:



Thomas Cromwell, painted by Holbein in 1532 or 1533And he's not alone.

Another Tudor-era painting hangs on the same wall of the room, on the other side of the fireplace (above which hangs an El Greco). The artwork that Cromwell is paired with is Hans Holbein the Younger's painting of Sir Thomas More, philosopher, lawyer, royal councilor--and victim of Henry VIII. More would not compromise his values and sign the oath of supremacy to the king. The royal advisor who pressured More to sign the oath and then engineered his treason trial was none other than Thomas Cromwell, a man with whom More had once been on friendly terms.



Sir Thomas More, painted by Hans Holbein the Younger, 1527

The two Tudor statesmen's portraits hang in the Living Hall of the Frick Collection, a lushly masculine space of oak-paneled walls, 18th century furniture and ceramics and bronzes that is supposed to have been kept unchanged since Henry Clay Frick occupied his house in the early 20th century.



The Living Hall, with Cromwell and More on either side of the fireplace
The Frick Collection is considered one of New York City's chief art treasures, filled with paintings by Rembrandt, Vermeer, Fragonard, Goya, Bruegel, Gainsborough, Van Dyck, Titian and Turner. It was Frick who bought these paintings, in a frenzy of purchases that ended during World War I.

Yes, Frick was one of the premier collectors of the Old Masters in all of America. But just as there were many sides to Thomas Cromwell and Thomas More, there is much more than art appreciation to Frick. In fact, he was for a time widely known as "the most hated man in America."

To learn why he was so despised, we need to head west, to Pennsylvania, where Frick lived for most of his life. His parents were rural Mennonites. At the age of 21, he formed a partnership with cousins and friends called Frick Coke Company--using a special oven, they turned coal into coke for steel manufacturing. By the early 1880s, Frick controlled most of the coal output in the entire state.


Henry Clay Frick
Frick took his place on the national stage when he became partners with Andrew Carnegie of the Carnegie Steel Company. In 1892, the violent Homestead Steel Strike, which Frick provoked as a way to break the union, earned him the nickname the "Most Hated Man in America."


Frick brought in 300 Pinkerton guards after the steelworkers went on strike, leading to an epic all-day battle leaving 16 men dead and many more wounded. The governor was forced to call in 8,000 militia to restore order.



Alexander Berkman, an anarchist and lover of Emma Goldman, tried to assassinate Frick in his Pittsburgh office. Carnegie, who didn't want the labor wars to tarnish his business reputation, was in Europe during the strike but approved of breaking it from afar. After repelling Berkman, who was armed with a knife and a gun, Frick cabled Carnegie: "Shot two times...no necessity for you to come home. I am still in shape to fight the battle."




An illustration drawn in 1892
In 1901, Frick moved with his family to New York City. He was now a fabulously wealthy director of J.P. Morgan's United States Steel Corporation, and he decided to spend some of his millions on art. This was a period of fierce competition for the finest paintings in Europe. Frick was often going after the same masterpieces as Morgan, sugar magnate H.O. Havemeyer and Boston philanthropist Isabella Gardner. Some of the oldest families in England were in a financial crisis, trying to hang onto their centuries' old estates. The art dealers who descended, representing American "robber barons," could not have come at a better time.

Frick bought the painting of Sir Thomas More in 1912 and the one of Thomas Cromwell in 1915. Frick very much wanted to buy Holbein's painting of Christina of Milan, but it escaped his grasp.

Painting of Frick and his devoted daughter, Helen.

Frick had fallen out with Andrew Carnegie years ago; lawsuits and acrimony followed. But in their senior years, the two men both lived in New York City. Frick was building an art empire; Carnegie was writing books, funding libraries, and donating huge amounts of money to educational and artistic causes. Carnegie Hall on 57th Street, built in 1891, is one of the world's premier concert venues.

In 1919, when Carnegie, 83, was dying, he sent a message to Frick seeking reconciliation. The note traveled from one man's mansion to the other's. "Yes, you can tell Carnegie I'll meet him," Frick responded. "Tell him I'll see him in Hell, where we both are going."

Just months later, Carnegie and Frick were both dead.




The Frick Collection, Fifth Avenue and 70th street.


In 1935, the Frick Collection opened its doors to the public. Art lovers could enjoy the exquisite sculptures and paintings, including the Holbein portraits of More and Cromwell, two men who underwent a different struggle in a different time, and yet now inhabit the same room, thanks to one of the most combative men in all of America.

Why You Should Pre-Order The Tapestry!

I've finally gotten to the bottom of why pre-orders matter.

1.) If the publisher sees a healthy number of pre-orders in the months leading up to publication date, they will take it into account on setting the size of the print order.

2.) Authors who have readers who pre-order their books are more likely to get future contracts from that same publisher. :)

3.) The pre-sales numbers are lumped with the first week's sales in deciding if a book can make it to any bestseller list. This is the most important time in a book's life: the first week. You know how some people think a book grows over months and years to become a hit. That rarely happens!

4.) And pre-ordering a book means a reader has one less thing to remember. Don't have to worry if you've bought the book--it's taken care of.

Here are all the pre-order  and order links, gathered on my site, from amazon to Indie bookstores: http://www.nancybilyeau.com/order.php


THANK YOU!!

Who Was the Man Executed With Cromwell?

In The Tapestry, I introduce a number of new characters. Some of them are from my imagination and some are from history. Among the latter is Sir Walter Hungerford, a man with a number of dark secrets. All readers of Tudor history know that Thomas Cromwell was executed in 1540. But not everyone realizes that Sir Water Hungerford was beheaded with him. The reasons why are a mystery to this day. I explore the life and crimes of Sir Walter here.

Historical Novel Society: THE TAPESTRY is "Highly Recommended"

A great day!


I've just received the most favorable review for any book I've written from The Historical Novel Society:

"Joanna is a force of nature. Smart, persevering, yet true to herself and her beliefs, she gets better in each incarnation. Up to her ears in court intrigues, religious persecutions, beheadings galore and Henry’s erratic and volatile nature, Joanna shines – remaining ever vigilant. Bilyeau’s rendering of the court and its diverse personalities, the palpable tension between Protestant and Catholic, and the very smells and sounds of the streets are intensely evoked. A lot of fun, and highly recommended."

To read the full review, go here.

What's the State of the Mystery Novel?

I went to the monthly meeting of Mystery Writers of America-NY and listened to an interesting panel presentation on the state of the industry by St. Martin's editor Hannah Braaten; Curtis Brown Ltd. agent Mitchell S. Waters; and Mystery Scene's editor-in-chief and co-publisher Kate Stine. I have an agent and an editor, but I like to know the trends--and I like to see my mystery-writer friends. In no particular order, these are 10 of the panelists' observations:

1.) Grisly violence in mysteries on the wane, with psychotic killer point of view not as popular.
2.) If you query multiple agents simultaenously, you should let them know.
3.) Cozy mysteries doing OK, because publishers have a readymade market of eager readers, as with romance. Interesting new trend: The younger cozy, with a little more edge and some adventure.
4.) Query services are easy to spot and some agents don't care for them.
5.) Some editors still do intense line editing, but a writer who can turn in a manuscript close to ready has a big advantage.
6.) Fierce female protagonists welcome.
7.) The biggest problem with self-published fiction is lack of rigorous copy-editing.
8.) Don't chase commercial trends in vague hyped queries: "It's Gone Girl meets The Girl on the Train!"
9.) Abused children in mysteries--they've had enough of it.
10.) Mystery writers are the nicest of the genre writers. They also drink the most. Are these things connected. Discuss. :)

"Meeting" the Librarians

My friend C.W. Gortner, who has written a string a wonderful historical novels and is poised to take the world by storm with Mademoiselle Chanel, was a featured author at ALA last week. He sent me this wonderful photo, of my novel The Tapestry at the Simon & Schuster booth.




The American Library Association's conference is in Chicago, where I was born. I feel like everything came together in that moment--my book was shown at a conference in my birthplace, with librarians buzzing around. Librarians are some of my favorite people on earth!!

Thank goodness for friends like Chris Gortner.

Seers, Mystics and 16th Century Royalty

Readers of my series know that the mystical world--whether it's relics of startling power, ancient prophecies or a magician's hex--plays a part in the stories. But this is not a fanciful decision on my part. Seers and astrologers and necromancers were part of life in the 16th century, in a way not often captured in historical fiction.

Three men in particular stand out: Michel de Nostredame (Nostradamus), Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa and Dr John Dee. In a recent article I share my research on them:

On January 12, 1559, Elizabeth Tudor entered the Tower of London to prepare for her coronation as Queen of England. Her half-sister, Mary I, had died on November 17th and Elizabeth seized the reins of power immediately, but the all-important coronation was not set to take place until nearly two months later.

The date when Elizabeth would ride through the city of London to Westminster Abbey was January 15th. At the suggestion of Robert Dudley, Elizabeth consulted Dr. John Dee, the astrologist and scholar who later served as Shakespeare's inspiration for Prospero in The Tempest. Dee chose the date as most favorable to a successful reign.

Dr. John Dee
Elizabeth's years of reliance on Dee puzzles some people today. How could the Tudor queen, educated, enlightened and brilliant, known for saying, "I would not open windows into men's souls," make decisions based on an astrologer? But to wonder that misreads the importance of men like John Dee in the 16th century. The more well versed in the Renaissance the ruler was, the more he or she favored the educated seers and wizards....

The rest of the post can be found here.

"A Mesmerizing Heroine"

I'm excited to see the first blogger review of The Tapestry!

"Nancy Bilyeau, a relative newcomer to the historical fiction scene, has created a mesmerizing heroine with her Joanna Stafford character. Her two previous books in this series, The Crown and The Chalice, were both five-star reads, in my opinion, and this latest is even better. The story just takes off rocket-like from page 1 and doesn’t slow down until the final page. Joanna, a prospective nun about to take final vows when we first meet her in The Crown, finally makes her choice between the cloistered life and marriage in The Tapestry, but not before a series of breathtaking events almost gets her killed, not once but several times...."

To read the rest, go to https://denisesbooklist.wordpress.com/2014/12/29/review-the-tapestry-by-nancy-bilyeau/

Blog Hop: Christmas After the Priory

My series of historical thrillers tell the story of Joanna Stafford, a Dominican novice struggling to survive the turbulent reign of Henry VIII. This excerpt comes from the second novel in my series, The Chalice. It is Christmas 1538. Sister Joanna and her fellow nuns and the friars have lost their home--Dartford Priory was demolished as part of the Dissolution of the Monasteries--and they are trying to make new lives. It's difficult--and it's dangerous.

At Mass on Christmas Day, there was not an empty seat to be found in Holy Trinity Church. The church had been stripped of its adornments, its beautiful images painted over, but something significant was added: long wooden pews. As Father William Mote told the story of Our Savior with as much vigor as he was capable of, I sat in a pew halfway down the middle of the church, next to Arthur and Sister Winifred, with Brother Edmund on the other side. We were no longer relegated to the chantries chapel.

But then there was the chain.

As Father William expounded, he stood next to it--a platform nailed to the altar and, attached to that altar by a long and heavy chain, the first English translation of the Great Bible, written by Myles Coverdale. "I am exhorted by Lord Privy Seal Cromwell to gently and charitably exhort you to read this Bible for yourselves," Father William announced to us two Sundays ago.

Ironically, the only parishioner  who made it his business to study Coverdale's Bible was Brother Edmund. "I do not fear the Scriptures and will not be corrupted by misinterpretation," Brother Edmund reassured Sister Eleanor, who begged him not to put himself at risk. After a few days of reading, he commented, "Cloverdale acquits himself well. He was an Augustinian, after all."

My problem was not with the book itself but the chain. Every time I looked at it, I feared I was being dragged back to London, to the court and prison and scaffold of King Henry VIII. As I listened to Father William's sermon, I put both my hands around my throat and closed my eyes.

When Mass was finished, Brother Edmund asked, "Sister Joanna, may I have your assistance in the infirmary for a short time?"

"Of course," I said.

Brother Edmund's small infirmary on the High Street, tidily kept and stocked with potions, pills, plasters and herbs, was empty. As Brother Edmund lit a small fire in the back, I thought it was doubtful that someone from town would require the services of an apothecary on Christmas Day.

"Sister Joanna, I must speak to you in confidence about something important," he said, gesturing to the stools set next to his oak work table.

"Yes, Brother?" My breath quickened. I wanted to be important to Brother Edmund.

He pulled his stool close to mine so that we were inches apart. I had not been alone with him since we were together in the calefactorium at Blackfriars, in London.

Running his hands through his ash-blond hair, he said, "I must know if you have noticed anyone following you."