Meredith Allard's Blog, page 29

Review Copies of Hembry Castle Are Now Available

Greetings! I just wanted to let everyone know that copies of When It Rained at Hembry Castle are available. The novel is technically up on Amazon (you can see it here), but the official release date isn’t until next week. I actually finished something early for a change. Go figure.

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Here’s the official blurb:

From Meredith Allard, author of the bestselling Loving Husband Trilogy, comes When It Rained at Hembry Castle, a lush historical novel set in Victorian England. Perfect for fans of Downton Abbey, it’s the story of an aristocratic family, secrets that dare not be told, and the wonder of falling in love.

When the 8th Earl of Staton dies, his eldest son, the unreliable Richard, inherits the title and the family’s home—Hembry Castle. The Earl’s niece, the American-born Daphne, is intrigued by Edward Ellis, a rising author with a first-hand knowledge of Hembry Castle—from the servants’ hall. And Edward, though captivated by the lovely Daphne, has his own hurdles he must overcome. Can Richard come to terms with his title before bringing ruin on his family? Will Edward and Daphne find their way to each other despite the obstacles of life at Hembry Castle?

When It Rained at Hembry Castle is a page-turning, romantic novel with vivid characters and an engrossing story that will keep you guessing until the end.

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The book will be on sale for .99 cents through the end of March, though since you guys are special I’ll save you the buck (or the pound, or less than a pound, I suppose). If you’re interested in a review copy, email me at meredithallard(at)aol(dot)com and let me know if you’d like a pdf, mobi, or epub version.

Filed under: Historical Fiction, News, When It Rained at Hembry Castle Tagged: Downton Abbey, historical fiction, New Releases, News, Victorian fiction, When It Rained at Hembry Castle

Creative Inspiration For Writing Historical Fiction

There’s a joke I’ve seen on Pinterest, a cartoon of a writer watching TV. The character says, “I’m researching!” to the cynical-looking people standing nearby. For those of us who write fiction, we know that watching TV or movies, listening to music, or going for walks really is research because all of it becomes part of the writing process. Writers, especially fiction writers, need their imagination fueled regularly, and it’s the little things we do, such as stealing an hour here or there to watch a favorite TV show or listen to our favorite music, that help to fill the creative well so that we have a brain full of ideas when we sit down to write.

When it comes time to write, especially if I’m writing an historical story, I try to immerse myself in the time period as much as possible. If I feel as if I’ve traveled back in time, then it’s easier for me to carry my readers along with me on the journey. Here are some of the places I found inspiration while writing When It Rained at Hembry Castle. My hope is that by reading over my list, writers of historical fiction will discover places to find inspiration of their own.

Books

Nonfiction:

 Up and Down Stairs: The History of the Country House Servant by Jeremy Musson

What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew by Daniel Pool

How To Be a Victorian: A Dusk-to-Dawn Guide to Victorian Life by Ruth Goodman (one of my new favorite historians—she lives what she studies)

The Victorian City: Everyday Life in Dickens’ London and Inside the Victorian Home: A Portrait of Domestic Life in Victorian England by Judith Flanders

The Writer’s Guide to Everyday Life in Regency and Victorian England From 1811-1901 by Kristine Hughes

To Marry an English Lord by Gail MacColl and Carol McD. Wallace

Below Stairs: The Classic Kitchen Maid’s Memoir That Inspired “Upstairs, Downstairs” and “Downton Abbey” by Margaret Powell

The Essential Handbook of Victorian Etiquette by Thomas E. Hill

Fiction:

When reading novels, I look for books written during the era I’m writing about as well as novels written about the era. Other times I’ll find inspiration in a novel that isn’t necessarily set in that time period but there’s something about the story that provides some ideas.

The Buccaneers and The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton

Snobs by Julian Fellowes

The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro

I read A LOT of P.G. Wodehouse (but really, can you read too much Wodehouse?)

I read A LOT of Dickens (but really, can you read too much Dickens?)

Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel (set in the Tudor era—I know—but she’s such a master of historical fiction I needed to read the books again)

 

Television and Film

For me, TV and film are the same as fiction—some of what I watch is set in the era, some is not, but all stir my imagination in one way or another.

 Downton Abbey (Surprised, right?)

Upstairs, Downstairs

The miniseries of The Buccaneers

  North and South

  Lark Rise to Candleford

  Cranford

 Pride and Prejudice (Colin Firth’s version)

Sense and Sensibility (Emma Thompson’s—and Alan Rickman’s—version)

I tried to watch the TV versions of Bleak House and Great Expectations, but to be honest screen adaptations of Dickens’ work rarely thrill me. They get the drama down all right, but you’d never guess Dickens was one of the funniest authors in the English language from the dreariness of the adaptations. I’m doing a little better with Dickensian, if for nothing else but Stephen Rea’s performance as Inspector Bucket.

Keeping Up Appearances—Another Bucket (It’s BooKAY).

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries—this outstanding Australian show is set in the 1920s, but I love Essie Davis’ Phryne Fisher so much I’ll use any excuse to watch it. Phryne Fisher’s clothes are even more fabulous than the costumes on Downton Abbey. If you have Netflix, give it a try.

 

Music

Since my Victorian story is set in the 1870s, people were dancing to waltzes and polkas. Strauss and Chopin were favorite composers, which works well for me since I love to listen to classical music.

I was also able to find a few mp3s of Victorian-era music. I wasn’t concerned with whether or not these were songs specifically from the 1870s, and the music didn’t necessarily make it into the novel, but I really enjoy listening to music from the general time period while I’m writing. It helps me get into the right frame of mind. Here are a few examples of what I found:

Victorian Dining by Peter Breiner and Don Gillis

Victorian Edwardian by Alexander Faris

Victorian Love Songs by Craig Duncan

If you’re writing historical fiction, I highly recommend listening to music from the era while you write. I find a lot of great songs on Amazon, and if you have Amazon Prime then you can listen to some of the music for free.

 

Pinterest

I adore Pinterest. For me, Pinterest isn’t social media marketing as much as something I do for fun because I love it so much. When It Rained at Hembry Castle is the first novel I’ve written since I started on Pinterest, so it’s the first time I was able to use pictures from the site to inspire my writing. When I needed to describe the sitting room at Hembry Castle, for example, I simply needed to go onto my research board, find the pin for the photograph I wanted to use as inspiration, and describe what I saw. If you’re writing your novel on Scrivener, you can import those photos directly into your novel file so they’re readily available when you need them.

When I was researching the novel, I created a private board for Hembry Castle because I didn’t want to bombard my followers with my many research pins. Then, when I had everything I needed, I created a public board so people could see the inspiration behind the story. Want to check out the board? It’s here.

 

Travel

 I had a few things to say about traveling for research purposes in this post. Of course, it’s not always possible to travel, but if you can then do.

London, England: I’ll have more to say about my journeys to London for research purposes in a later post. For now, I’ll say that London is always a good idea.

Pittock Mansion in Portland, Oregon

Portland, Oregon: An odd place to travel when researching a novel set in Victorian England, I know. I didn’t actually travel there for that purpose, but when I arrived I found Pittock Mansion, an American, smaller-scale version of an English country house, and Pittock Mansion provided a lot of inspiration for Hembry Castle. In fact, the music room and the library in Hembry Castle were modeled after rooms in Pittock Mansion.

This is just the short list of places where I found inspiration for my Victorian historical novel. I hope you’ve discovered a few ideas for places you might seek inspiration for your own historical stories, whichever era they’re set in.

Filed under: Historical Fiction, When It Rained at Hembry Castle, Writing Tagged: historical fiction writing tips, When It Rained at Hembry Castle, writing, writing historical fiction, writing tips

Nothing is Set in Stone: Allowing Room For Freedom When Writing Fiction

First of all, I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season. I took a couple of weeks off for the holidays, and then a bout of the flu kept me down for a bit. I ended up spending most of my Christmas break revising When It Rained at Hembry Castle. The novel is in its final edits phase, and I’ll have galley copies in print and ebook in a week or two in case any of you would like a free review copy. I’ll send out word when they’re available. If you’re interested, just contact me at my email address: meredithallard(at)aol(dot)com. In fact, I just started a new Pinterest board for the novel with photographs I used for inspiration for clothing, settings, and characters. If you’re interested in the Victorian era, or in the novel, by all means check out the board. I’ll be adding more pins every day.

Scotney Castle–one of the influences for Hembry Castle and the castle used on the book cover.

This is always the point of writing a new novel where I’m reminded of Dorothy Parker’s great saying: I hate writing but love having written. I admit that Hembry was difficult for me to grasp ahold of. I hadn’t struggled like that with a novel since I wrote Her Dear & Loving Husband from 2009-2011. Her Dear & Loving Husband was the most complicated plot I had written up to that point, and I had a lot of trouble understanding how to make the past and present storylines work. It wasn’t until I had the novel professionally critiqued that I understood the flow of the story, and then once I figured it out writing the next two books in the series, Her Loving Husband’s Curse and Her Loving Husband’s Return, came easily because they followed the same plot structure. My next novel, That You Are Here, was such a dream to write. For whatever reason, there were no struggles with that book. I understood who the characters were immediately, and I saw the story play out like a movie, which meant all I had to do was take dictation. The book took me four months to write—a crazy-quick time, at least for me.

Again, with When It Rained at Hembry Castle there were struggles. In a sense I was back to where I was when I wrote Her Dear & Loving Husband—I had this whole new world I had to figure out. The plot for When It Rained at Hembry Castle became the most difficult plot I had yet undertaken, even more so than the plots in the Loving Husband Trilogy. In the Loving Husband Trilogy there are two points of view, from the two romantic leads, James and Sarah, and two time periods, the present and whichever historical period that novel is set. In When It Rained at Hembry Castle, I initially thought I would use the same two person point of view as I had in the Loving Husband Trilogy, but after beating myself about the head for a few months trying to make it work, I realized that two points of view were not enough for this novel. In keeping with its Downton Abbey inspiration, there are upstairs stories and downstairs stories in Hembry, and I finally realized that I needed more points of view in order to make this work. I haven’t yet tried the head-hopping omniscient third person point of view (one of these days I’ll write a novel where I try that one), but for Hembry I opened the field so that we get the point of view of more than just the two romantic leads (in this case, Edward and Daphne). I limited the scope of POV to one character for each chapter–this way it isn’t difficult for the reader to follow.

For me, that’s the frustration (and the fun) of writing fiction. Anything goes, which means sometimes it takes a while to figure out exactly what you need to do to bring each new story to life. The two person point of view worked well for the Loving Husband Trilogy, so I assumed it would work for Hembry. It didn’t. There are too many characters in Hembry, and there’s too much going on for my two romantic leads to be everywhere. I needed to let some of the other characters have their moments in the sun. Once I allowed the characters the freedom to speak for themselves, the headaches started to go away and the novel started to resemble the story I wanted to write in the first place.

Once I understand the plot structure and the way the pieces fit together, that’s when I’m in the flow of writing and there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be. The first part of writing a novel has always been difficult for me. That’s when I flap about like a fish out of water (or an asthmatic without an inhaler—speaking from experience), spending hours writing scenes that don’t make sense and have nothing to do with the story I want to tell. Every time I’m about to give up, though, I force myself to keep going because I’ve been at this long enough to know that the “shitty first draft” phase will pass and the story will reveal itself in the end. How much hair I have in the end always remains to be seen, but bald or not bald, I know that I’ll figure out whatever it is that’s not working. This is something I need to relearn every time I write a new novel, but most especially whenever I start a novel set in a new world. I also need to remind myself that nothing is set in stone, and I can experiment, play, and try things until I find the winning combination. I could have imposed the two person point of view on Hembry because I know that works and I’ve had success with it before. But it didn’t work in this story, in this world, and I needed to allow myself the freedom to play around until I discovered what did work. Of course, now that all the heavy lifting is done, I can say that I love having written.

For you Loving Husband Trilogy fans, God bless your patience. Even when you email me to say “You said the new story was coming out last spring…?” you’re so kind and encouraging. You guys are great! I had to get When It Rained at Hembry Castle out of my system, and it took me longer to write than I expected. Now that it’s done, I promise (cross my heart) that Down Salem Way is coming out this June. Yes, as a fan stated, but that’s still six months away. I hear you. I’m going to try to get it out sooner if at all possible, but the same holds true with the new James and Sarah story as with anything I write—I won’t publish something if I’m not happy with it. I’m not going to do a slap-dash job with Down Salem Way just to get it out there. I’d rather take my time to make sure it’s the very best it can be. After all, you guys have waited long enough for a new James and Sarah story—it better be a good one, right?

Happy 2016!

Filed under: Down Salem Way, Her Dear & Loving Husband, Her Loving Husband's Curse, Her Loving Husband's Return, When It Rained at Hembry Castle, Writing Tagged: creative writing, Down Salem Way, Downton Abbey, Fiction Writing, The Loving Husband Trilogy, When It Rained at Hembry Castle, writing, writing tips

Christmas at Hembry Castle: An Excerpt

Happy holidays! Normally this time of year I post a chapter from Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, but since I’ve nearly finished revising my new novel, When It Rained at Hembry Castle, and there just so happens to be two Christmas chapters, I thought I’d share those instead. For those of you who have been following the progress of the new novel, you know it’s set in Victorian England (in 1870) and loosely inspired by Downton Abbey (which is set later than the Victorian period–yes, I know).

Today’s chapter, entitled what else but “Christmas at Hembry,” currently stands as Chapter 17, though that could easily change by the time the novel is released in February. This isn’t a finished product, and I never show my unfinished products to anyone. But since we’re among friends, I thought I’d share. Enjoy!

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Christmas at Hembry was glorious. The same rooms that felt cavernous and cold the rest of the year glowed gold and warm from the candelabras and hearth fires that waved holiday cheer to all. Every surface in every room was covered with berried evergreens while mistletoe draped the walls and baskets of clove-wrapped oranges scented the air. The centerpiece of the castle was a 15-foot-tall tree lit with white candles and decorated with paper chains, strung candies, ribbons, and tinsel, all presents from the village children who gasped with delight to see their handmade gifts on display in the grand old house. Even the Countess of Staton was softened by the glee of the season, and she seemed almost dreamy as she floated about, her wind blowing a few degrees less coolly, and she entertained Daphne with memories of her sons’ first Christmastides. She named every present her sons had ever presented her, every mischief they had found themselves in. In the darkness, descending early now, Lady Staton spent hours with Daphne by the hearth in the sitting room over steaming cups of tea and lemon biscuits to tell stories of Frederick’s antics as a boy, like the time he meant to give his nanny a frog as a holiday gift and the slimy thing leapt first into Nanny’s apron pocket and then down the front of her dress. Oh, how she screamed, Lady Staton said, nodding at the memory. Lady Staton told Daphne how Prince Albert had brought his country’s Christmas traditions, including Christmas trees, to Windsor Castle in 1841. “And if Queen Victoria had a Christmas tree,” the Countess said, “then all of England wanted a Christmas tree.”

“We have Christmas trees in America,” Daphne said. “They add such a festive feeling to the season. And the candlelight is so beautiful.” When Lady Staton started in her chair, Daphne said, “Yes, even we Americans are civilized enough to have Christmas trees.” To Daphne’s surprise, her grandmother laughed. A Christmas miracle indeed.

The day itself was snowy, and iridescent light filtered from the quilted gray sky. The castle was full, as it was every year, with family, villagers, farmers, tradesmen, and anyone else important to the castle and its people. They had gathered together, as was the 250-year-old tradition, to eat and drink to their heart’s content, sing carols, and dance like there was no tomorrow. Daphne clasped her hands together when she saw two faces that made her particularly joyous: her Uncle Richard and Edward Ellis. Uncle Richard had disappeared without a trace a few weeks before, his only contact a cryptic message to her father about how he had pressing business but would be back at Hembry for the holidays. Despite her father’s best efforts, Richard couldn’t be found, and when her uncle turned up unexpectedly on Christmas Eve, everyone was so relieved they let his latest disappearing act pass without comment. Though it had only been a day since his return, Daphne saw her uncle smiling, easy, relaxed—as though some great weight, some strangulating albatross, had been removed from his neck once and for all and he moved all the lighter for it. She watched her uncle move among his guests, chatting with the farmers and villagers, laughing with the servants, dancing with his mother, all the time looking over the gathering as though he could hardly believe he was there. Daphne watched her uncle dance with a ten-year-old village girl, who positively beamed.

Edward Ellis’s arrival had a very different effect. He arrived in the afternoon, making his excuses to her father, apologizing for his tardiness, but he had wanted to spend some time that day with his family in London. Edward looked at his grandfather, who stood in his usual hunched manner with his hands behind his back. Mr. Ellis looked very pleased indeed with the turnout at Hembry Castle, and he watched the festivities over his round-rimmed spectacles, nodding at everyone and everything he saw. “I’m grateful to be here now, Mr. Meriwether,” Edward said. “I’ve always wanted to spend Christmas with my grandparents.”

Frederick clasped Edward’s shoulder and steered the young man toward the steaming punch bowl. “I’m so pleased you’re here now, Edward, as is Daphne. I know your grandparents have been looking forward to this since you agreed to come.”

Frederick excused himself to see about Mrs. Pearson, a village widow whose son, Joseph, had been ill. Frederick spoke softly to the doctor, Mr. Hough, and the men approached the woman and her small boy, giving the little fellow some peppermint and molasses taffy to put a smile on his face. Frederick then led the boy to the sitting room where a pantomime put on by the village children was in full swing.

“Who is that?” Edward asked as he watched Frederick and the boy. After Daphne explained, Edward said, “That’s good of your father to take such an interest. And you.”

“Papa and I have been to their cottage a few times to see how Joseph was doing. At first he seemed better, but then he was ill again. Mr. Hough saw Joseph yesterday, but he isn’t sure what’s wrong with the poor boy. He doesn’t have a fever, and he doesn’t have the chills. He’s just ill. Mr. Hough left a note with directions about how to care for the boy, and we’ve been following his instructions to the letter.”

“It must be working. The boy looks well enough.”

“He does, doesn’t he? Let’s hope that’s a good sign.”

Daphne saw little Joseph begin clapping when carolers began singing:

God rest ye merry, gentlemen

Let nothing you dismay

Remember, Christ, our Saviour

Was born on Christmas day

To save us all from Satan’s power

When we were gone astray

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy

O tidings of comfort and joy.

When the song was done, the orchestra began an upbeat tune and dancers filed into the center of the Great Hall to bow or curtsey before taking off down the rows on their toes. It was a beautiful scene, Daphne thought, as family, villagers, and anyone else who wanted laughed like children and danced before the great tree. Mothers danced with their sons, daughters with their fathers. The Earl of Staton danced with the baker’s wife and the peacock of a first footman danced with the Marchioness of Braddleton. Edward laughed when his grandfather took his grandmother for a swing around and around. He looked at Daphne and nodded toward the dancers.

“Miss Meriwether, may I have this dance?”

Daphne curtsied, and she joined Edward with the others. As soon as she started moving she forgot about everyone else. She forgot about the holiday decorations and the tables of delicious foods. She forgot the music and the very walls holding up the castle around her. She was with Edward, his left hand on her hip, his right hand holding hers. He looked nowhere but into her eyes, and she into his. His eyes were very green then, Daphne thought, spring green, green like new life and green like hope and dreams. He smiled at her, and she expected a comic comment from him as was his way, but he only smiled, and she smiled too. A space opened around them, and Edward twirled Daphne so her red velvet dress flared behind her. She felt as though she waltzed on air. When the music stopped and the others clapped, Edward and Daphne clapped too, Daphne still dizzy with exhilaration.

When the next song began, Edward grabbed Daphne’s hand and led her to the empty seats nearest the hearth. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but then he looked from the dancers to the Christmas tree to his grandparents, who were close in conversation and glancing in their direction. Edward reached beneath his black frock coat, his green and red paisley cravat falling out from his green velvet waistcoat while he fumbled in his pocket. After an anxious moment, he pulled out a small green box. He looked around, but though the room was full everyone was so caught up in their own frivolity they didn’t notice the chocolate-haired, nervous-looking young man and the small box he handed to the golden-haired, glowing young woman.

“My grandparents would say I’m being too forward, but I wish you’d accept this in the spirit it’s intended—a gift between friends.”

Daphne turned the box over in her hands. “May I?”

“Please.”

She gasped at the ruby earrings inside. Perhaps the gems weren’t of the same quality as the heart-shaped ruby ring her grandmother had given her, but they were perfect—small, round, set in filigree gold.

“You’re not offended?” Edward asked.

“Offended? They’re beautiful. Come here.” Without thinking of the hundreds of people in the castle, without thinking of anything but the present she had for Edward, she led him across the room and around the dancers to the ceiling-high tree. She knelt by the white-lace skirt at the bottom and reached around the back, pulling out a gold-wrapped box with a sprig of holly.

“This is my present for you.” She handed Edward the gift and waited with clasped hands while he opened it—a copy of A Christmas Carol signed by Mr. Dickens himself.

Edward turned the book from front to back to side to front again.  “You must have contacts beyond the grave.”

Daphne laughed. “Not quite. My father and I found it in a bookshop on the Strand in London. As soon as I saw it I thought of you, the soon-to-be famous author. Your book will be out before long, and who knows? Maybe you really will be the next Mr. Dickens.” She pointed to the inside flap of the book. “In case you were wondering, that is definitely Mr. Dickens’ signature. My father had it examined. Someone must not have known what they had when they sold the book.”

Edward stepped closer to her, closing the space between them. “I know exactly what I have.”

Daphne wanted him to look at her that way all the Christmas day, with an intensity she had never seen from him before. When the musicians played a waltz, Edward held out his hand. Daphne curtsied, and again he twirled her across the dance floor, and again her ruby-red dress fanned behind her, and again she felt lifted by the air.

This time, however, Daphne was aware of the others in the room, and she felt their eyes following her every move. Her grandmother squinted at them while she held her ear trumpet in place to hear her Uncle Jerrold and his wife Hyacinth, who had her monocle to her eye so as not to miss a detail. Her Uncle Richard leaned close to John Hough and whispered. Her father watched them too, exchanging sly looks with his lordship and Mr. Hough.

For the first time that Christmas Day, Daphne realized what she had done. By speaking so publicly to Edward, by dancing with him to the exclusion of everyone else, by sharing their gifts in this public space, she had made a choice. Most likely everyone in the castle knew how she felt about him by now. It had to be obvious in the way she felt light on her feet and grinned like a silly girl and laughed at anything he said however he said it.

So let it be, Daphne thought. While Edward hasn’t made any declarations yet, she guessed he felt the same for her as she did for him. She had to follow her heart, and her heart led to Edward Ellis.

Filed under: Fiction, Historical Fiction, When It Rained at Hembry Castle Tagged: Christmas Stories, fiction, historical fiction, When It Rained at Hembry Castle

Are You Making Changes? Are You Pursuing Your Passion?

Gilcrease Orchard Autumn 2015

Earlier this year I wrote about making changes. First, I wrote a post called Wherever You Go, Go With All Your Heart about how I had decided to become a PhD student after dreaming about it for many years. Then I wrote Hello, Goodbye: Changes Are Good for the Soul. And I still wasn’t finished making changes.

I was fortunate enough to receive a Graduate Assistant position at my university, and while the pay is below poverty wages (no joke), I wanted the experience of teaching and researching at the university level, so that was another change I made—leaving behind my full time teaching job for a G.A. position. One thing I gained from leaving behind my full time job was the gift of time. Certainly, I’m busy with university obligations, but otherwise time has opened up for me in a way it never had before. For years I wanted to put together an anthology of historical short fiction by contributors from The Copperfield Review. With my new-found time, I was able to put the anthology together, and History Will Be Kind is finally out in the world. My current writing project, the historical novel that drove me batty over the summer, is now full speed ahead and looking good for its February release. For my studies I was fortunate enough to have stumbled onto a research subject that fascinates me, and I’m finding this time at UNLV invigorating in a way I hadn’t expected.

I mention this because I’ve recently become aware of Steven Pressfield’s concept of the shadow career. In his book Turning Pro, one of the examples Pressfield uses is “Are you getting your PhD in Elizabethan Studies because you’re afraid to write the tragedies and comedies that you know you have inside you?” First of all, I’m getting my PhD in Teacher Education, not Elizabethan Studies, thank you very much, and second of all, no, I’m not afraid to write the tragedies and comedies I have inside me. Then I realized Pressfield isn’t speaking to people who have a go at realizing their dreams—he’s referring to people who don’t pursue their passions. He points out the dichotomy between artists and addicts, an addict in this case meaning a self-sabotaging amateur who distracts herself away from her true passion with distractions, displacement activities, and meaningless jobs. Instead of pursuing our true callings, Pressfield says, we hide behind shadow careers.

I’ve spoken to many people over the years who have a burning desire to be a writer yet they don’t write. I have a friend, a fellow teacher, who has been wanting to write a mystery novel for as long as I’ve known her (nearly 10 years now). She reads mystery novels, reads about how to write mystery novels, and she even travels across the U.S. to attend the Sisters in Crime conventions. I’ve often wondered what’s really holding her back. Whenever I think of people like my friend, I remember that quote from Maya Angelou in I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings: “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” I wish I could help my friend realize it’s okay, you can do it, you don’t need permission from anyone, do what you can do right now. I think sometimes people are so afraid of making any kind of change they make excuses and talk themselves out of doing something that’s calling to them from deep in their hearts.

The funny thing is, I don’t think being a teacher is a shadow career for my friend. I think she genuinely enjoys teaching. The problem isn’t that my friend isn’t making a living as a mystery novelist. The problem is that she isn’t pursuing her passion. Yes, it’s hard to find time to write when you’re a teacher (there’s always so much lesson planning and grading to do), but I believe that if you want to do something badly enough you’ll find a way to make it happen. I wrote seven novels and edited The Copperfield Review while working as a full time teacher. Why? Because I had to. I had untold stories burning holes in my innards and I couldn’t live with the agony of not sharing them. Pursuing my PhD isn’t my way of turning from those untold stories. I’m still writing novels—yes, it takes me longer these days to finish one, but I’m still writing them, and I’m still running The Copperfield Review. And since I love writing so much, when I’m teaching writing I feel like I’ve come home. As a result, I’m researching what can be done to train future writing teachers, and it’s fascinating stuff, let me tell you. You might have several passions as I do, and yes, it’s a challenge to juggle them, but it’s worth it. If you’re pursuing your passion and have a day job, I refer to my post about day jobs. I will insist, always, that you are not less of an artist if you have a day job. As long as you make time for your art, you are an artist. Even if my friend writes 500 words a day, 250 words a day, 100 words a day, whatever it is, it’s allowing her to pursue her passion at a pace that’s right for her. Don’t listen to the people who want to tell you how to be a writer (or a painter, or a dancer, or a photographer, or an underwater basket weaver). Don’t listen to the people who want to tell you that you’re not a writer unless you write a certain number of words every day (that is, unless it’s November and you’re participating in NaNoWriMo. Then 1667 words a day is about right). You get to decide how to be an artist for yourself. Really.

Not everyone’s journey is the same, but we’re all going to need to make changes at one point or another. Yes, changes are scary, but if you need to make a change, make it. If you have a passion, pursue it, in whatever form you can right now. Life is too short not to listen to whatever it is that makes your heart sing.

Filed under: Spirituality, Writing Tagged: follow your dreams, making changes, personal passions, writing

An Interview With Circa Editor Jennifer Falkner

Jennifer Falkner is the creator and editor of the online literary journal Circa, which is devoted to historical fiction, which happens to be my favorite genre (for those of you who haven’t already guessed that about me). What makes Circa unique is the fact that Jennifer is from Canada, and she loves to publish stories about Canadian history. You can visit Jennifer online at her website.

I had known of Circa since it’s one of the few journals devoted to historical fiction (the other, of course, being some little journal called Copperfield something or other…). Copperfield has published a few pieces of Jennifer’s short historical fiction, so I knew she was a great writer as well as a great lover of historical fiction. Jennifer was nice enough to answer a few of my questions about historical fiction and Circa. Here are her responses. If you write short historical fiction, take note!

* * * * *

Meredith Allard: When and why did you begin writing, and did you always write historical fiction?

Jennifer Falkner: Writing stories is something I’ve just always done. I remember being nine or ten years old and writing westerns. I was going through a Louis L’Amour phase, I guess. But I only got serious about doing it well and for an audience besides myself after I turned thirty. I don’t always write historical fiction. If anything, I’d say half of what I write is contemporary. But the past has a fascination that I cannot ignore for long.

M.A.: What is your writing process like? When and where do you find time to write?

J.F.: Whenever I can. Sometimes that’s first thing in the morning before the rest of house is awake, sometimes squeezed in over lunch. Most often though I barricade myself in the study for three or four hours on Saturday and Sunday mornings.

M.A.: How would you describe your writing to potential readers?

J.F.: Improving, slowly.

M.A.: How did you come to start Circa, your online literary journal for historical fiction? Why did you choose to focus on historical fiction?

J.F.: There were so few venues dedicated solely to historical short stories when I started Circa a few years ago. There was The Copperfield Review, of course, and Alt Hist, Vintage Script, and Snapshots of History. Now, sadly, the latter two are no longer publishing. And none of them was in Canada. So it was partly out of self-interest; I wanted to read more historical fiction, especially stories to do with the Canadian past. And once I landed on the name, I couldn’t not do it.

M.A.: What would you like to tell those who love historical fiction and readers of Copperfield about Circa? How can they submit their historical fiction? How do you decide which pieces you’ll publish?

J.F.: To me, history is never bland. It’s lively, preposterous, funny, sad, bizarre, everything. I want Circa to reflect all of that.

With each issue, I feel Circa is getting stronger and more diverse. Pieces have to be well-written, obviously. The writer has to have done her work, researching, drafting, editing. I try to choose pieces from as many different periods as possible. This can be tricky because I receive a lot of submissions set during either the American Civil War or World War Two. And many submissions are not stories, but vignettes, a day in the life, which can be well done, but often read more like a history lesson. I want to be interested in the characters, I want to see them challenged and changed over the course of the story. And I love to be surprised.

Writers interested in submitting should check out Circa’s Submission page for instructions on how to submit.

M.A.: Which are your favorite historical novels? That’s often a tough call, I know.

J.F.: Oh, too many to list! But I’ll have a go. These are the books I read over and over. Orlando by Virginia Woolf; The Balkan Trilogy by Olivia Manning; Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne; anything by Hilary Mantel, of course, but especially her book The Giant, O’Brien, which will break your heart, it’s written so beautifully; The Passion by Jeanette Winterson. And I’m a sucker for whodunits set in Ancient Rome, especially the Falco series by Lindsay Davis and the Ruso series by Ruth Downie.

M.A.: Which authors are your inspiration—in your writing life and/or your personal life?

J.F.: Virginia Woolf, Jane Austen, Margaret Atwood, George Eliot, Fay Weldon, especially her Letters to Alice On First Reading Jane Austen – a must-read for any aspiring novelist and any Jane Austen fans, Jeanette Winterson, Elizabeth Gaskell. And probably a dozen others.

Hmm, I just noticed how many women are in my list.

M.A.: What advice do you have for those who want to write historical fiction?

J.F.: Read, read, read. Read in, around, and over the period in which your story is set. Then pick out the one or two details that make the period unique and bring it to life. The reader doesn’t want a history lesson.

M.A.: What else would you like readers to know?

J.F.: The next issue of Circa is due out October 15 and it’s bursting with great stories!

Filed under: Historical Fiction, Interviews Tagged: Circa, historical fiction, Jennifer Falkner, literary journals

Boo! It’s Time for the Spooktacular Giveaway Hop

While I’m in writing mode, working on my new historical novel, and editing mode, putting the Copperfield Review‘s first anthology together, I thought it would be a great time to participate once again in the Spooktacular Giveaway Hop. If you’re not familiar with this hop, it’s one of the best events of the year for book lovers.

I love participating in this giveaway every year. After all, there’s no better time for the Loving Husband Trilogy–a vampire/witch/werewolf love story set during the Salem Witch Trials–than Halloween. There are more than 200 blogs participating, which means there are many wonderful prizes for book lovers to win. Check here for the list of participating blogs. Thanks to I Am a Reader, Not a Writer for hosting. This hop runs from October 15th to October 31st.

Two winners will receive a gift card (either BN.com or Amazon.com–your choice) for $10. Five other winners will receive a digital copy of the complete Loving Husband Trilogy (all three books) as either .mobi for Kindle, epub for Nook and iPad, or as a .pdf.

To enter, just fill out the simple form below. That’s it! There’s only one mandatory entry. All entry options can be found on the right sidebar of this page.

The winners will be announced on Monday, November 2, 2015 after 5 p.m. Pacific Time. Good luck!

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Filed under: Giveaways, Her Dear & Loving Husband, Her Loving Husband's Curse, Her Loving Husband's Return Tagged: Giveaways, I am a Reader Not a Writer, Spooktacular Giveaway Hop, The Loving Husband Trilogy

Spotlight: C.C. Humphreys and Shakespeare’s Rebel

Here’s a spotlight on author C.C. Humphreys’ new historical novel, Shakespeare’s Rebel. Check below for the link to the giveaway for a C.C. Humphreys book bundle.

* * * * *

Title: Shakespeare’s Rebel

Author: C.C. Humphreys

ISBN: 9781492609902

Pubdate: October 6, 2015

Genre: Historical Fiction

Imprint: Sourcebooks Landmark

Summary

 To be (or not to be) the man to save England

England’s finest swordsman and fight choreographer at the magnificent new Globe Theatre has hit rock bottom. John Lawley just wants to win back his beloved, become a decent father to his son, and help his friend William Shakespeare finish The Tragedy of Hamlet, the play that threatens to destroy him.

But all is not fair in love and war. Dogged by his three devils—whiskey, women, and Mad Robbie Deveraux—John is dragged by Queen Elizabeth herself into a dangerous game of politics, conspiracy, and rebellion. Will the hapless swordsman figure out how to save England before it’s too late?

Brimming with vivid periodic detail, Shakespearean drama, and irresistible wit, Shakespeare’s Rebel is a thrilling romp through the romantic, revolutionary times of Elizabethan England that will delight historical fiction fans and Shakespeare enthusiasts alike.

Exclusive excerpt

If John knew the odds of a street fight, he also knew its mind-set. There were always those uncommitted to its extremity. These could be swayed. Bribery had just failed to do so—yet swift ferocity might work. So he stepped away from his friend and the still bawling boy to give himself the room required.

It was a good plan, to take out the biggest threat and transform the rest into nervous bystanders. May have worked too—if John had not been betrayed by the unevenness of the stones underfoot, a misjudgment of distance, and the lingering effects of the heated double-double ale he’d just drunk.

He drew, screamed, “Heya!” and leaped. Tripped. Fell, his sword clattering onto the stones. Somehow he kept a grip upon it, which aided him not a jot, what with the apprentice’s boot upon it.

“Oh, John,” he heard his friend say. He squinted up at the butcher’s boy looking down.

“Now that,” the youth said, “was not very friendly, old man.”

He might have taken more offense if he were not lying with his ear pressed to shit­rimmed cobbles and if the youth had not continued, to the crowd, “You all witnessed who drew first. So I’m going to let him rise—and then give him a little lesson in swordplay.”

The boot withdrew. John rolled clumsily away, got onto knees, thence onto shaky legs. The butcher’s boy stepped back, handed his cleaver to a friend, then reached to his side and began to draw, very slowly, a rapier from its scabbard. The weapon’s speed was partly dictated by its length—at least a foot longer than the limit decreed by Her Majesty. Once clear, he also withdrew a long dagger, raised both weapons into the air, to another huge cheer, the onlookers so thrilled by this escalation that not one yelled out when the accused thief, cause of the quarrel, slipped from Shakespeare’s neck and sprinted off down the alley.

Escalation…escalated. Where two swords were bared, suddenly there were nine, for the six other apprentices also now had their rapiers out. As Will drew his, John stared. “Is there not an ordinance, Will,” he mumbled, “that decrees only gentlemen may carry rapiers?”

The butcher’s boy overheard—and smiled. “’Tis true indeed, sir, which is why we carries ’em.” He turned and grinned at his companions. “’Cos we is all fucking gentlemen.”

More cheers at that. They were spreading into a half­circle when, from behind them, flagons appeared, borne by drudges from the tavern, the landlord following, a large man who shouted as he came, “A sixpence says it is over in less than a minute. I offer odds of three to one!”

“I’ll take sixes,” a man cried out. “These are real gentlemen, after all.”

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David Cooper Photography
2007

Chris (C.C.) Humphreys is an actor, playwright, fight choreographer and novelist.  He has written nine historical fiction novels including The French Executioner, runner up for the CWA Steel Dagger for Thrillers; Vlad – The Last Confession,  the epic novel of the real Dracula; and A Place Called Armageddon. His latest YA novel is The Hunt of the Unicorn. His work has been translated into thirteen languages. Find out more about him on his website: http://cchumphreys.com.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorcchumphreys

Twitter: https://twitter.com/humphreyscc

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/80075.C_C_Humphreys

Buy Links

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Shakespeares-Rebel-Novel-C-C-Humphreys/dp/1492609900

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shakespeares-rebel-cc-humphreys/1113921022

Indie Bound: http://www.indiebound.org/book/9781492609902

Giveaway

Click here for a chance to win a C.C. Humphreys book bundle.

Filed under: Giveaways, Guest Authors Tagged: C.C. Humphrey, Giveaways, guest authors, Shakespeare's Rebel

Charlie Britten at The Anne of Green Gables Museum

Charlie Britten is the regular contributing reviewer at The Copperfield Review, and here are her thoughts about her time at The Anne of Green Gables Museum on Prince Edward Island. Anne of Green Gables was one of my favorite books when I was a child, and the museum sounds like someplace I’d like to visit. Here’s her guest post, “Visiting Kindred Spirits.”


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My eyes brimmed with tears, one of those moments so intense I wanted to make it end, to run out into the safety of the hire car, the road and the twenty-first century.  Yes, I know it was all fiction and none of it really happened, but L M Montgomery’s Anne Shirley figured as large in my childhood as the flesh-and-blood friends I met in school every day.  And here I was, in this beautiful house, fitted out with its simple and functional furniture, but with lace everywhere – over the mantelpiece, over the tables, in the bedspreads, exactly as it would’ve been in her time.  Anne was here, and Gilbert, and Marilla, and Rachel Lynde, and all the others.  I’d travelled over three thousand miles for this and probably would never return.  I took a deep breath and carried on.

The Anne of Green Gables Museum is at Park Corner, on the north coast of Prince Edward Island, at a Gothic Revival farmhouse called Silver Bush, the former home of author Montgomery’s Uncle John and Auntie Annie Campbell.  The first Campbells settled in this house in 1776 and the family lives here still, managing the Museum, which appears on Canada’s Historic Places Register and Prince Edward Island’s Register also.  Although the real Lake of Shining Waters is just down the hill from the main museum building, this is not Green Gables, but Silver Bush, as featured in two of Montgomery’s other books, Pat of Silver Bush and Mistress Pat.  It was in this house, which she called the wonder castle of my childhood, that Montgomery felt comfortable, not in the official ‘home of Lucy Maud Montgomery’ in the village of Cavendish a few miles away, which is advertised in tourist literature.

The Museum has two storeys.  You enter (like Mrs Rachel Lynde in the first pages of Anne) through the kitchen, passing the leaded range to pay at the desk (in summer 2015, $5.50 for adults and $2 for children).  You move through into the lacy Edwardian parlour, where a clock ticks loudly and lugubriously and you see the small organ which was played at Montgomery’s wedding in 1911 to Presbyterian minister, Ewan Macdonald.  You think about small children, sitting still on hard chairs, in their best clothes – hopefully with puffed sleeves – longing for Sunday to end.  A letter in the parlour, written a year before the author’s death in 1942, thanks her nephew for sending $10, because, she tells him, she doesn’t have enough money for the nursing care she needs, even though by this time, Anne of Green Gables was enjoying huge popularity and Montgomery would have been earning from her many other books.

Upstairs are a family bedroom, a child or single person’s room and a hallway, where first editions of Montgomery’s books are on display – not just the Anne books, but a selection of her twenty-two novels, and the short stories she used to submit to magazines in the days before Anne.  You may touch these faded volumes, even read a little.  Hanging on the wall is the crazy quilt Montgomery stitched as a teenager, using any scraps of fabric she could find, and which she finished only after the fashion for crazy quilts had passed, but, as she wrote in her diary, she had had the ‘joy of making’ [1] –  a typically upbeat and stoical comment.  Born in Clifton (now New London) in PEI in 1874, Montgomery’s mother, Clara, died of tuberculosis when the author was twenty-two months old.  Mounted on the same wall is a journal entry, in which the author relates how, as an adult, she encountered a friend of her mother’s, who tells her how Clara entreated her to come and see her baby because ‘little Lucy Maud is so sweet today’. This is what brought me to tears in the warm yellow afternoon sunshine.

There is a danger that the whole of Prince Edward Island will be subsumed by the commercial opportunities offered up through Anne of Green Gables and her creator.  Everywhere you can buy red-haired Anne dolls, stay at several different Green Gables motels, eat at Green Gables cafes, bathe on the Green Gables Shore (the Island’s north facing beach), and, in the Homburg Theatre in the Island’s capital, Charlottetown, see Anne of Green Gables: The Musical, which has been running continuously since 1965.

I’m glad I went to the Museum first, when I had been on the Island only a few hours, because it captured the spirit of Montgomery’s stories, which were about people living a simple life in farming communities at the beginning of the twentieth century, their underpinning stoicism and joy in small things.  Montgomery loved to visit Silver Bush because here she was loved and that loving feeling lingers on.  The last words in Anne of Green Gables, were a quote from Pippa Passes, Browning’s long narrative poem (1841) – significantly – about an orphan.  “God’s in his heaven, all’s right with the world!” whispered Anne softly.”

For more information about the Anne of Green Gables Museum, visit http://www.annemuseum.com.

 http://www.gov.pe.ca/firsthand/index.php3?number=43770&lang (From The Selected Journals of L. M. Montgomery, Volume II, 5)

Filed under: Guest Authors Tagged: Anne of Green Gables, Charlie Britten, guest authors, Prince Edward Island, The Anne of Green Gables Museum

Spotlight: Elizabeth Chadwick and The Winter Crown

Elizabeth Chadwick, one of my favorite historical fiction authors, has a new novel–The Winter Crown. Here’s a spotlight on her second book about Eleanor of Aquitaine. Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway below to win a copy of Chadwick’s first novel in the Eleanor of Aquitaine trilogy, The Summer Queen.

 

Summary

 As Queen of England, Eleanor has a new cast of enemies—including the king.

Eleanor has more than fulfilled her duty as Queen of England—she has given her husband, Henry II, heirs to the throne and has proven herself as a mother and ruler. But Eleanor needs more than to be a bearer of children and a deputy; she needs command of the throne. As her children grow older, and her relationship with Henry suffers from scandal and infidelity, Eleanor realizes the power she seeks won’t be given willingly. She must take it for herself. But even a queen must face the consequences of treason…

In this long-anticipated second novel in the Eleanor of Aquitaine trilogy, bestselling author Elizabeth Chadwick evokes a royal marriage where love and hatred are intertwined, and the battle over power is fought not with swords, but deception.

 

Here Are Three Little-Known Facts about Eleanor of Aquitaine, One of the Most Powerful and Influential Women of the Middle Ages:

By Elizabeth Chadwick

She got married when she was 13 and became Queen of France at that age too. Her husband, Louis, was 17, and they met only a week before their wedding. For a long time, historians thought she was 15, and you will still see some of them write it that way. But new research favors the age 13—and what a difference that makes to me as an author coming at it from that perspective. It provides a whole new take on the story.
Eleanor gave her husband Louis a vase for a wedding present that still exists today. It was made of carved rock crystal and was already hundreds of years old when she gave it to him. Her grandfather had brought it back with him from the Crusades. When she gave the gift to Louis, it was a plain, unembellished object, except for its detailed honeycomb carving. Later on, Louis gave it as a gift to his tutor, Abbe Suger, for the treasury of St. Denis. Suger then had it decorated with gold and precious gems, completely changing its original, more subtle appearance. You can still see the magnificent “Eleanor vase” in the Louvre Museum in Paris.
No one knows what Eleanor looked like. There is not a single proven description of her anywhere in any medium. She is variously described by her biographers as a brunette, a blond, and a redhead, but the truth is we don’t know.

 

Social Network Links

Twitter: https://twitter.com/chadwickauthor

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/25765.Elizabeth_Chadwick

 

Buy Links

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Ob5enk

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1KOOAJu

Indie Bound: http://bit.ly/1MndO1W

Books A Million: http://bit.ly/1iJV400

 

Book Information

Title: The Winter Crown

Author: Elizabeth Chadwick

ISBN: 9781402296819

Pubdate: September 1, 2015

Imprint: Sourcebooks Landmark

Genre: Historical Fiction

 

Here’s the link for the Rafflecopter Giveaway of Chadwick’s first novel in the Eleanor of Aquitaine trilogy, The Summer Queen.

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Elizabeth Chadwick photographed by Charlie Hopkinson. © 2007

 

 

“A star back in Britain, Elizabeth Chadwick is finally getting the attention she deserves here,”—USA Today.

Chadwick is the bestselling author of over 20 historical novels, including The Greatest Knight, The Scarlet Lion, A Place Beyond Courage, Lords of the White Castle, Shadows and Strongholds, The Winter Mantle, and The Falcons of Montabard, four of which have been shortlisted for the Romantic Novelists’ Awards.

 

Filed under: Giveaways, Guest Authors, Historical Fiction Tagged: Eleanor of Aquitaine, Elizabeth Chadwick, Giveaways, guest authors, The Summer Queen, The Winter Crown