Writing life in the time of Covid—and the weirdest summer ever
I admit, it's been a challenging five months.
First, I want to just say I'm so grateful that my family is healthy during this time, and I hope you are all similarly fortunate. I know many people who have been affected by both illness and tragic loss. This virus is not to be taken lightly.
Now, on to the book-related stuff.
Looking back...
For me, the enforced isolation has been both a frustration and a gift. It's been a frustration because so many of the things I'd planned to do as I launched my business as a book coach (in February) and prepared for a book launch (September 29) went out the window.
The conference I was going to attend was canceled. I had great plans to hand out business cards and talk about book coaching—as well as to get to know other writers face to face and learn their strategies for writing and promoting books. Now, I have a full box of business cards I'd had printed that are basically obsolete.
I had also planned to be really smart about preparing to launch the third in my historical mystery series, The Paris Affair. In addition to the usual efforts (blog tour, Netgalley, giveaways, guest posts, social media shares), I was going to contact all the local schools about coming to give a presentation.
A presentation? Why?
Here's the thing about my YA historical fiction: I always try to shed some light on societal issues and wrongs in it, to create adventures and engaging characters that also teach something important about the history they're set in. Of course, as a music historian, I lace in plenty of information about my violinist Theresa's activities in the time of Haydn and Mozart. But I also try to go beyond that.
In The Musician's Daughter, it was the persecution of the Romany people in Vienna and Hungary in the 18th century. In The Mozart Conspiracy, it was the restrictions on Jews in Vienna, and the role of the Masonic movement in perpetuating the preeminence of affluent white Christian men.
My topic in The Paris Affair is simply to show that not only were there Black people in Paris in the 18th century, but also that one of them—the violinist and swordsman Joseph Bologne, Chevalier de Saint-Georges—had an illustrious career and was connected to the highest echelons of society.
In fact, it's become a bit of an obsession of mine to dig up everything I can about this extraordinary individual, known as "The Black Mozart" by many. But that is just the tip of an iceberg.
The research—it's why I do it, basically.
Discovering the chevalier led me to researching more about Black people in France and Europe during the 18th century. Our European history, it happens, is quite white washed. Those of you who follow me on my Facebook author page, on Twitter, or on Instagram have probably seen my posts about the regulations that governed people of color in France from the 17th through the 18th centuries. Caribbean landowners brought their slave servants with them when they visited or returned to France to the point that one document asserts that Black slaves were overrunning Paris. No doubt an exaggeration, but given how few Blacks are represented in the art and documents of the era, still surprising.
In the U.S. at least, we don't think of France as a country that had so much to do with slavery, unless we're studying the rebellion in Saint-Domingue (Haiti) and Toussaint L'Ouverture. But France was the third largest slave-trading country (behind Britain and Portugal) in the 18th century, supplying its lucrative possessions in the Caribbean with slaves to meet the demands of the comparatively wealthy Europeans for sugar, coffee, indigo, and more.
Joseph Bologne was an exception, not the rule
I won't go into detail here about all the restrictions placed on imported slaves, or dispel the myth that France abolished slavery in the 17th century. In fact, Louis XV bought a slave for his mistress, Madame du Barry, and there is evidence that even though it was prohibited there, slaves were bought and sold in France itself.
But the chevalier did not come to France as a slave. He was the son of a prosperous landowner and a fifteen-year-old Senegalese slave who had been his wife's maid. There's little to no information about how the wife felt about this, but the elder Bologne gave his only son every advantage of education, bringing both Joseph and his mother to France when Joseph was 10. He had the best schooling, and lived in luxury. Joseph had a stipend from his father of eight-thousand Livres a year as an adult—a very handsome sum.
Needless to say, I could go on and on. You'll find more information about the chevalier in the Author's Note at the end of The Paris Affair. But I was really, really looking forward to introducing him to high school students in the area. Of course, our teachers are simply trying to figure out how to serve the students in this time of remote learning so that no one is left behind. I applaud them, and value them.
Looking forward...
The limitations of enforced isolation have necessitated finding more creative ways to connect with readers and writers—my tribe. That was the gift.
Like the rest of the world, I embraced Zoom as the platform where I could continue to teach my writing workshops through Writers In Progress. I was also fortunate that my book coaching business was already a work-from-home proposition, with Zoom coaching calls to work with clients all over the country and the world.
But I missed the opportunity to just talk to other writers, to sit one-on-one with them and exchange thoughts and ideas. So I took the leap into podcasting, discovering that there were no podcasts dedicated to historical fiction. I confess, it's been a blast. And it has achieved my goal. I now have much more meaningful connections with everyone I've interviewed for this podcast. I hope that—if you're interested—you'll subscribe to It's Just Historical on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Stitcher, or Google Podcasts. It's also my way of helping other historical novelists raise their profiles just a little.
Which brings me to the subject of my upcoming book launch.
My original plan was to have a fun event with refreshments and wine and music at Broadside Bookshop in Northampton, MA—my local bookstore. Obviously, that's not going to happen.
Instead, I will have a Zoom event on Tuesday evening, September 29th, at 7pm.
Sigh. More Zoom, you say. But I'm hoping to both feed my need to educate and liven things up a little by giving a brief presentation about the very Joseph Bologne I've introduced above. If I can figure out a way to play recorded music over Zoom, I'll treat you to some of his compositions. If not, there will be links...
The benefit of this arrangement is, of course, that you don't have to travel to Northampton to come! All you have to do is respond to this email by clicking the link above (don't worry, I'll send a reminder closer to the day) and I'll send you out the necessary Zoom information to join me that evening.
And in lieu of book signing, I'll also send signed book plates to anyone who gives me their mailing address.
All right, I've gone on long enough. Thank you, if you've managed to wade through this far! I promise my next email will be devoted just to information about the book launch.
In the meantime, I hope you and yours continue in good health and sanity. I hope to "see" you on September 29th!
First, I want to just say I'm so grateful that my family is healthy during this time, and I hope you are all similarly fortunate. I know many people who have been affected by both illness and tragic loss. This virus is not to be taken lightly.
Now, on to the book-related stuff.
Looking back...
For me, the enforced isolation has been both a frustration and a gift. It's been a frustration because so many of the things I'd planned to do as I launched my business as a book coach (in February) and prepared for a book launch (September 29) went out the window.
The conference I was going to attend was canceled. I had great plans to hand out business cards and talk about book coaching—as well as to get to know other writers face to face and learn their strategies for writing and promoting books. Now, I have a full box of business cards I'd had printed that are basically obsolete.
I had also planned to be really smart about preparing to launch the third in my historical mystery series, The Paris Affair. In addition to the usual efforts (blog tour, Netgalley, giveaways, guest posts, social media shares), I was going to contact all the local schools about coming to give a presentation.
A presentation? Why?
Here's the thing about my YA historical fiction: I always try to shed some light on societal issues and wrongs in it, to create adventures and engaging characters that also teach something important about the history they're set in. Of course, as a music historian, I lace in plenty of information about my violinist Theresa's activities in the time of Haydn and Mozart. But I also try to go beyond that.
In The Musician's Daughter, it was the persecution of the Romany people in Vienna and Hungary in the 18th century. In The Mozart Conspiracy, it was the restrictions on Jews in Vienna, and the role of the Masonic movement in perpetuating the preeminence of affluent white Christian men.
My topic in The Paris Affair is simply to show that not only were there Black people in Paris in the 18th century, but also that one of them—the violinist and swordsman Joseph Bologne, Chevalier de Saint-Georges—had an illustrious career and was connected to the highest echelons of society.
In fact, it's become a bit of an obsession of mine to dig up everything I can about this extraordinary individual, known as "The Black Mozart" by many. But that is just the tip of an iceberg.
The research—it's why I do it, basically.
Discovering the chevalier led me to researching more about Black people in France and Europe during the 18th century. Our European history, it happens, is quite white washed. Those of you who follow me on my Facebook author page, on Twitter, or on Instagram have probably seen my posts about the regulations that governed people of color in France from the 17th through the 18th centuries. Caribbean landowners brought their slave servants with them when they visited or returned to France to the point that one document asserts that Black slaves were overrunning Paris. No doubt an exaggeration, but given how few Blacks are represented in the art and documents of the era, still surprising.
In the U.S. at least, we don't think of France as a country that had so much to do with slavery, unless we're studying the rebellion in Saint-Domingue (Haiti) and Toussaint L'Ouverture. But France was the third largest slave-trading country (behind Britain and Portugal) in the 18th century, supplying its lucrative possessions in the Caribbean with slaves to meet the demands of the comparatively wealthy Europeans for sugar, coffee, indigo, and more.
Joseph Bologne was an exception, not the rule
I won't go into detail here about all the restrictions placed on imported slaves, or dispel the myth that France abolished slavery in the 17th century. In fact, Louis XV bought a slave for his mistress, Madame du Barry, and there is evidence that even though it was prohibited there, slaves were bought and sold in France itself.
But the chevalier did not come to France as a slave. He was the son of a prosperous landowner and a fifteen-year-old Senegalese slave who had been his wife's maid. There's little to no information about how the wife felt about this, but the elder Bologne gave his only son every advantage of education, bringing both Joseph and his mother to France when Joseph was 10. He had the best schooling, and lived in luxury. Joseph had a stipend from his father of eight-thousand Livres a year as an adult—a very handsome sum.
Needless to say, I could go on and on. You'll find more information about the chevalier in the Author's Note at the end of The Paris Affair. But I was really, really looking forward to introducing him to high school students in the area. Of course, our teachers are simply trying to figure out how to serve the students in this time of remote learning so that no one is left behind. I applaud them, and value them.
Looking forward...
The limitations of enforced isolation have necessitated finding more creative ways to connect with readers and writers—my tribe. That was the gift.
Like the rest of the world, I embraced Zoom as the platform where I could continue to teach my writing workshops through Writers In Progress. I was also fortunate that my book coaching business was already a work-from-home proposition, with Zoom coaching calls to work with clients all over the country and the world.
But I missed the opportunity to just talk to other writers, to sit one-on-one with them and exchange thoughts and ideas. So I took the leap into podcasting, discovering that there were no podcasts dedicated to historical fiction. I confess, it's been a blast. And it has achieved my goal. I now have much more meaningful connections with everyone I've interviewed for this podcast. I hope that—if you're interested—you'll subscribe to It's Just Historical on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Stitcher, or Google Podcasts. It's also my way of helping other historical novelists raise their profiles just a little.
Which brings me to the subject of my upcoming book launch.
My original plan was to have a fun event with refreshments and wine and music at Broadside Bookshop in Northampton, MA—my local bookstore. Obviously, that's not going to happen.
Instead, I will have a Zoom event on Tuesday evening, September 29th, at 7pm.
Sigh. More Zoom, you say. But I'm hoping to both feed my need to educate and liven things up a little by giving a brief presentation about the very Joseph Bologne I've introduced above. If I can figure out a way to play recorded music over Zoom, I'll treat you to some of his compositions. If not, there will be links...
The benefit of this arrangement is, of course, that you don't have to travel to Northampton to come! All you have to do is respond to this email by clicking the link above (don't worry, I'll send a reminder closer to the day) and I'll send you out the necessary Zoom information to join me that evening.
And in lieu of book signing, I'll also send signed book plates to anyone who gives me their mailing address.
All right, I've gone on long enough. Thank you, if you've managed to wade through this far! I promise my next email will be devoted just to information about the book launch.
In the meantime, I hope you and yours continue in good health and sanity. I hope to "see" you on September 29th!
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