Showing posts with label regency romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label regency romance. Show all posts

Thursday, May 23, 2019

A Breath of Fresh Air by Victoria Chatham

Rough Winds

Primroses
Writers are always looking for ways to enhance the drama in their plots and the nuances of their characters. Just as we sometimes use the weather to create a mood or direct the way a scene goes, so we can make use of the seasons in our settings and in our characters’ moods. Never mind my characters, I know my mood definitely changes with the onset of spring but, after all my years living in Canada, I still miss an English springtime. My memories are of a gentle segue from the rough winds and rain of winter to the soft breezes and light showers of true spring, of standing on a hillside breathing in the fresh air under a clear blue sky and when the hedgerows began to green, of looking for the wildflowers that sheltered beneath them, snowdrops and crocuses, primroses and celandines. 

Do Shake the

Cheese Rolling
There are also all the events and activities the springtime weather shakes up. Much like those who long for the start of baseball in North America, competitors around the UK can take part in wellie wanging (how far can you throw a Wellington boot?), cheese rolling (chasing a 7-9 pound wheel of cheese down a 1-3 gradient hill), bog snorkelling and wife carrying. There are also the Tetbury woolsack races, guys carry a 60-pound sack and girls a 35-pound sack, which start in one of two pubs and are run up a 1-4 gradient hill. 

Darling Buds of May

May is also the time for Hawthorn, the 'haw' in this instance being an old word for hedge.
White Hawthorn
According to Celtic myth, hawthorn flowers are the most likely plant to harbour fairies which is why Hawthorn was never taken into the house. Its branches could be formed into garlands and hung on the door, or set into the ground outside the house to ward off evil spirits, illness, and death. The young leaves (known as bread and cheese) can be added to salads, along with dandelion greens and elderberry. The berries are well known for their anti-oxidant and heart health benefits. Add garlic for a super boost. Hawthorn once bloomed close to the beginning of the month and was known as the May-tree, the only British plant to be named for the month in which it blooms, but now blooms closer to the middle of the month.

Springtime sets the scene for the rest of the year. It is a time of renewal and hope and, who knows, it might bring ideas for a whole new set of characters and books, like my next Regency romance, coming in July.

A shocking betrayal by the man she has come to trust and begin to love, shatters Lady Olivia Darnley's new found happiness. Will Lord Peter Skeffington manage to overcome the rift between them that he has unwittingly caused? Will she accept not only his apology but also his proposal of marriage? Is there a future for this apparently mismatched pair?



Photographs:
Cheese Rolling at Cooper's Hill courtesy of dailymail.uk 
Primroses, Hawthorn, from the author's library.
Paragraph Headings:
Quote from William Shakespeare's Sonnet #18


Sunday, October 23, 2016

Reflections on Moose and Writing by Victoria Chatham



COMING SOON!

I've lived in Canada now for 26 years. In all of those years I had never seen a moose. Black bears and grizzlies, skunk and porcupine, whitetail and mule deer, elk and big horn sheep, foxes, coyotes and wolves. I've even seen free ranging buffalo near Waterton National Park. Yes, I've been quite fortunate to see all of those over the years. I live close to the Rocky Mountains and enjoy camping and hiking so there have been plenty of opportunities to observe wildlife, except for that darn moose.

On a long distance drive one September travelling through much of Alberta and northern British Columbia, I watched avidly for moose, especially when we saw the road signs warning to beware of them for the next however many kilometres, but no, nary a one. On a research trip on another occasion, I happened to mention to the rancher I was interviewing that I had never seen a moose.

"Oh," he said. "I saw a big old bull down in the muskeg this morning. Let's go find him."

We set off in a vehicle that was so cobbled together I wasn't sure if it was a pick-up, jeep or ATV. What I was sure of was that it could never go off the ranch without risking any one of several motoring and vehicle infractions. It was also a testament to the strength of baler twine, as that was all that was holding the passenger seat in place. These anomalies not withstanding, said rancher toured me around the muskeg, brushed through undergrowth and never once did we see any sign of that old bull.

I can't tell you why moose fascinate me so. It may be because they are so big and ugly that only a mother could love them, or it may be that I have always felt slightly cheated and in turn envious of those who have said "Oh, I had a moose in my yard this morning", or "I saw a moose on my way to work". What did they have that I didn't? The closest I had come to a moose was the Fawlty Towers episode where Manuel was practicing his English. The mounted moose head that Basil Fawlty had so much trouble with remains a long standing family joke.

Now however, I have achieved that ambition in the past few weeks - not once, but twice and in the least
likely places. The first, a bull close to a town, the second a bull and two cows on the railway tracks running through a town. Their sheer size is impressive. The lore concerning moose as riding and draft animals is well documented. They have the reputation of being the most dangerous animal in Canada, largely because of the number of road accidents in which they are involved. As their heads tend to be higher than the average car headlights, it is difficult to see any reflection from their eyes, which are widely spaced on the sides of their head making it difficult to see both eyes at once. But now my patience has finally been rewarded!

So you are now probably confused and wondering how on earth my quest for a moose and writing can possibly be connected? Such are the workings of my mind that I equate my patience in finally seeing a moose  to the patience required in writing a book. My very first editor said that writing a good book is an exercise in patience and not giving up. Those days when you think you really can't write, or that what you have written is worse than anything you've ever written before have to be worked through. If you are a writer, there's almost a hundred percent guarantee that you know exactly what I mean.

There is no point in sitting around waiting for inspiration. That may take forever. In the meantime you have a book to write, so having the patience to sit every day and allow yourself to simply write until the words gel and begin to flow is an exercise in patience, although you may at times feel quite the opposite. I can't tell you how many times I nearly threw in the towel when my words would not come together and form the pictures on the page that I had in my mind. There are still times when I look at a phrase or a paragraph and think 'that won't do'. My method then is to copy and paste the offending lines to a blank sheet and play with them until they feel right and I'm comfortable with them. Then they get copy and pasted back into my text. It may sound like hard work but it works for me. Oh, did I mention that I'm a Virgo and was once referred to as nit-picking Virgo?

Patience is a virtue so the medieval poet William Langdon (or Chaucer depending on which you read) says, but if you stick to your guns, if you keep your butt in the chair and your fingers on the keyboard have patience and do not give up, at the end of the that you will have a book. And I can tell you there is no finer feeling than when you have delivered that baby and finally hold it in your hands.

Victoria Chatham’s passion for the romance genre goes back to when she read her first Regency romance as a teenager. Now retired, she writes historical and contemporary romance. Her other passions include a love of animals, especially horses and dogs. She lives near Calgary but spends as much time as she can with her family in England.



Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Part Two . . . To Quire by Victoria Chatham




In my last post I looked at the development of the fountain pen. In this post I’m addressing another part of the writing experience equation – paper. Where would we be without either?

We have the Chinese to thank for the art of paper making, possibly even 200 years earlier than the recorded 105 BC. Ts’ai Lun, an official at the Imperial Court so history tells us, became fascinated with the nests of wasps and bees. Inspired by their industry, he pounded mulberry bark into a sheet, let it dry and then wrote on it. This first experiment was improved with the addition of rags, hemp and old fishing nets a ll soaked together in water, the fibers then beaten into a pulp and strained through a cloth sieve onto a drying frame. Court officials were now able to discard the heavy and unwieldy bamboo strips or expensive silk previously used for writing. With the invention of woodblock printing circa 600 AD it was no wonder that by 740 AD China had its first printed newspaper.

Paper was used not only for writing, but also wrapping and padding, toilet paper and tea bags. Have you ever wondered how long paper money has been around?  The government of the Song Dynasty was the first to issue it. The earliest piece of paper, inscribed with a map and found at Fangmatan in Gansu province, dates from 179-41 BC while the earliest recorded woodblock printed book was the Diamond Sutra (Perfection of Wisdom) of 868 CE found at Dunhuang. The British Library states ‘it is the earliest complete survival of a dated printed book’.

The art of papermaking was a closely kept secret but it was inevitable that along with spices, jade, lapis lazuli and the lucrative silk that gave the route its name, knowledge of paper   made its way along the Silk Road. In 8th century Samarkand a water-mill was first used in the paper making process, a process that was repeated across the Arabic world and then medieval Europe. Modern papermaking began in earnest in the 19th century with the invention of the Fourdrinier machine, capable of producing rolls rather than sheets of paper. In 1844 inventors Charles Fenerty, a Canadian and F.G. Keller, a German, developed a machine that used wood pulp and forever changed the face of papermaking.

Paper is produced in many weights and sizes. We are all familiar with letter, legal, ledger and tabloid sizes. Some of these sizes have names such as Post, Crown and Double Demy. Imperial UK sizes include Antiquarian and Grand Eagle. The old adage ‘against the grain’ comes from the paper making industry for, if paper is folded against its grain, it can crack along the fold. The heavier the paper the more cracking will occur. A ream is 500 sheets of paper and a quire 1/20th of that, or 25 sheets of paper.

The word paper is commonly considered to derive from the papyrus plant, used by the Ancient Egyptians. The pith of the plant is processed quite differently and produces a heavier type of paper. Animal skins have been used throughout the centuries as a writing medium. Vellum is produced from calfskin, the very best being produced from unborn or stillborn animals. Today quality vellum is hard to find and expensive but is still produced in the UK by the family business of William Cowley of Newport Pagnell, Buckinghamshire. Established in 1870 they still use traditional methods passed down by word of mouth and use skills that are virtually unchanged for 2000 years. Parchment is a term for skins prepared from other animals such as horses, cows, deer and pigs. Today there is a form of vellum made from plasticized cotton.

One of the reasons I love old books is the paper they are printed on. As Helene Hanff writes in 84 Charing Cross Road, ‘I’m almost afraid to handle such soft vellum and heavy cream colored pages. Being used to the dead-white paper and stiff cardboardy covers of American books, I never knew a book could be such a joy to the touch’. The most expensive book I ever purchased for myself was an illustrated edition of Kenneth Grahame’s Wind in the Willows. The grain in the paper is definitely a joy to touch.

I still like to have quality writing paper to hand, for those occasions when I actually take pen to paper for a letter at Christmas or a thank-you note. At one time I had my own design embossed letterhead notepaper but that was before the advent of the computer when letter writing was still fashionable and mail arrived twice daily Monday to Friday and on Saturday mornings.

In spite of technology, paper is still a big part of our lives. From official documents to brown grocery bags and parking or speeding tickets, it is not likely to go away any time soon. How does paper feature in your life? Do you like your magazines from the store, or online? Or both? The next time you handle a piece of paper, give some thought as to how it reached you. You may be surprised.

For more about Victoria and her books go to:


www.bookswelove.com/chatham.php
www.victoriachatham.webs.com
www.amazon.com/author/victoriachatham
www.facebook.com/AuthorVictoriaChatham

Friday, July 26, 2013

A Few Lines from Hazel Statham



Today, a few lines from His Shadowed Heart by Hazel Statham.

The shadows of the remaining light played across Caroline’s sleeping countenance and he smoothed a lock of hair that had strayed across her forehead. He knew the desire that his lips should follow his finger’s course, but even in his state of inebriation, he knew this would be foolish.

For several minutes, he watched his wife sleep, eventually placing his head upon the pillow beside her. His lips curved into a loving smile as his eyes drank in her sleep-softened
countenance and he felt her breath caress his cheek. The longing to hold her became an almost physical thing and his arms ached with the suppressed desire.

Eventually she stirred, muttering incoherently in her sleep, and he raised himself up. *What foolishness is this*, he thought. *I am acting like a callow youth, *and immediately he was on his feet. Snatching up the light, he went quickly out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.



Come back next week for a few lines from Betty Jo Schuler.


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