Writer, heal thyself!

I love to do research. Sometimes it becomes an addiction on par with Candy Crush or Bejewelled and, as with any good novel, it always begins with a "what if?" Lately, I've had to do research I thought at first was unrelated to my Wild Blue Mysteries, but recently the information I've needed in my books has also dogged me in real life. I'm learning what it takes to be a strong, female lead then give some of that energy over to someone else to make life better.

Every good romance novel has a strong woman, who either needs or lets a man take care of her. While I don't write actual romance novels, my mysteries follow the same flow. All three of my Books We Love novels to date feature women who start off from a place of being either abused or dejected in some way. All three women: Katie Mullins (The Bookstore Lady), Lucy Stephen (The Mystery Lady), and Christina Davidson (The Bakery Lady), have to relearn how to trust and allow love to return to their lives while helping to solve the mysteries surrounding each of them.

Like Katie, Lucy, and Christina, I've become broken by trying to do it all for everyone else all the time - like any good mom would. Along the way, I've lost myself. It's been through my writing that I've found kinship and strength. Writing group members, Facebook allies, and others I have learned to reach out to for support have become a huge part of my circle. They not only give me encouragement, but also have allowed me to become the woman I am evolving into, both in my life and in my writing as I recover from health issues.

My research has led me to discover some interesting things that will appear in two upcoming novels. The Painted Lady will bring forth some art history and lessons while Christina rediscovers the passions she thought she'd long buried. The Crazy Lady will feature some technological gadgets used as spywear that will finally help Danny and Katie put an end to some serious trouble in Packham in a big way.

With every story I research, I learn.
With every book I write, I grow and develop - both as a writer and as a human being.
With every novel, I heal myself and, hopefully others.

Thank you for stopping by. You can find my books on Amazon at Diane Bator, Author.

A WHITE FEATHER - THE SYMBOL OF COWARDICE - MARGARET TANNER

THE ORDER OF THE WHITE FEATHER BY MARGARET TANNER

 For several hundred years the white feather was handed out as a symbol of cowardice. 

Who could forget the powerful movie, The Four Feathers, taken from a novel by A.E.W. Mason? It starred Heath Ledger and Kate Hudson? Set in 1884, against the background of the Sudan War. A British Officer, who resigned his post just before going into battle, is handed four white feathers. One is from his fiancée and the other three from his army friends.

In England, in August 1914, The Order of the White Feather was founded by Admiral Charles Fitzgerald, to shame men who would not enlist for the 1^st World War. Women mainly handed out these feathers to young men who were not in uniform. Sometimes they would stick the white feather in the lapel of the man’s coat.  Of course, these women didn’t know or obviously care, that many men who may have volunteered for the army had been rejected because of health reasons, or perhaps they had a vital job to perform in munitions etc.

Many men were persecuted or shamed into joining the army, sometimes with deadly results, or if the army would not take them, they were driven to suicide. The stigma of having been handed a white feather stayed with some men for a lifetime.

 

I am ashamed to admit this, but I had a great aunt who used to stand at the railway station hand out white feathers to young men during the 2nd world war. Her justification was that her son was in the army, so she felt that all other young men should be in the military also.

This short extract from my novel, Daring Masquerade, shows how unfair and cruel the act of handing out a white feather could be.

"Harry stared into the shop windows as they sauntered along the street. Poor Gil had pushed his stump into his pocket so no one could see his missing hand. Her heart bled for him.

 A small rotunda set amidst lawns and colorful flowerbeds, stood at the end of the main street.

“We need to support our soldiers after their valiant battles. They’re crying out for reinforcements,” a portly gentleman said. “What type of man would skulk around here while his fellow Australians are dying in the trenches?” 

“Here, here,” a well-dressed young woman cried out. “Conscript all the cowards who won’t enlist.”

“What are you doing here, young man? Aren’t you ashamed to be so cowardly as to let other men fight for you?” A middle-aged matron shoved a white feather into Gil’s hand.

“You old bitch,” Harry yelled, knocking her hand away, while Gil stood pale and shaking. “How dare you accuse my brother of cowardice?”

“Why doesn’t the coward enlist?” someone else called out.

“You despicable creatures!” Harry screamed back. “You should be arrested.”

Back and forth, Harry and several of the women hurled insults as more people milled around listening to the argument. Harry became so inflamed she didn’t care what came out of her mouth. “You parasites, living comfortably here while forcing someone else to die.”

“Your brother is a coward, ” the portly gentleman said. “He should enlist and do his bit for the Empire.”

“Here, here, Mayor,” someone endorsed his views.

“He’s done his bit,” she shouted. “You pompous, overstuffed pig. Show them, Gil, show them your arm.”

 She dragged Gil’s arm from his pocket and raised it high. “He’s given one hand to the war, isn’t that enough?”

Silence reigned, followed by embarrassed muttering."

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Doctor, I'm Sick," or Medical Practice in Eighteenth Century America By Shirley Martin

 

     Believe me, you wouldn't want to be sick in eighteenth century America.

    In my time travel romance, "Dream Weaver," the hero--Christian--is a doctor in 1762. In preparation for writing this romance, I read as much as possible about medicine in the eighteenth century.

    Let's start with a few basics. The average life span was thirty-five years, the death rate appalling. Very few people lived to the advanced age where cancer or heart disease manifested themselves. Only a very high birth rate allowed America to grow. The average married woman had seven children.

    Infection was the most common cause of death. Most doctors at this time recognized the value of cleanliness. Although those little, squiggly "animals" under a microscope were fascinating to watch, no one connected the bacteria with infection. The germ theory lay far in the future.

    In the eighteenth century, a pregnant woman was considered sick and indisposed for nine months. She was to avoid dancing and exercise, not to mention sex, for the duration.(One wonders how often this last proscription was observed.) Post childbirth infection was a feared complication of giving birth. Here again, cleanliness, or lack of it,was an important factor. Very few people in rural areas could afford doctors' fees, and someone other than a doctor performed delivery, often not bothering to wash their hands first.

    Since so many people couldn't afford doctors' fees, quacks abounded "like the locusts of Egypt." In colonial America, anyone who wanted to practice medicine could do so. Most doctors were trained as apprentices. However, American medical students considered the medical school in Edinburgh, Scotland, to be the premier source of a medical education. The courses there included anatomy, surgery, chemistry, pharmacy, and theory. American students in Edinburgh were conscientious scholars and spent long hours every day in the study and discussion of medicine. In 1765, the College of Philadelphia became the first medical school in America. Students had to give their thesis for a medical degree in Latin. Thereafter, America required a more stringent background for the practice of medicine.

    Amputations had a high mortality rate, and fractures of the vertebrae were considered fatal. We've all heard the term "bite the bullet."  It means to endure what you have to endure. More crudely, it means put up and shut up. If you've ever visited a historical fort and seen the bullets with the teeth marks, you might be able to imagine the agony of a patient having his leg sawed off without benefit of an anesthetic.

    Apothecaries in Europe and America sought Indian herbal medicine for many diseases. Sassafras tea was prescribed for infection and rheumatism, besides moths and bedbugs.

    Back then, many people who lived near poorly-drained areas suffered from the ague, what we now know as malaria. They believed that a miasma from the swamps caused this disease. It would be a long time before people realized that mosquitoes caused this malady. Yet strangely, the remedy then is the same as what is used today--Peruvian bark, today's source of quinine.

    Warfare has always advanced surgery. Gunpowder forever changed the strategy and tactics of warfare and also the problem of wound treatment. With gunpowder, casualties greatly increased. Most likely, because of the high casualty rate, doctors were forced to ignore advice on cleanliness. Sickness, not battlefield wounds, caused over 90% of the deaths in America during the Revolution. The conditions in the medical hospitals and field hospitals were appalling--dirty straw to lie on, lice, filth, wounds left untended for days. No wonder so many men died.

    The one great contribution of eighteenth century medicine was the development and practice of smallpox inoculation. In the early stages of this practice, many doctors and clergymen strongly opposed this practice, considering it against the will of God. Over time, the practice became accepted, and by the end of the Revolution, the entire American army had been inoculated. Thanks must go to George Washington for this for he recognized the value of smallpox inoculation.

    Inoculation was the first step in a process that virtually eliminated smallpox worldwide. Later, Edward Jenner developed smallpox vaccine, using the crusts from cowpox to prevent smallpox.

    In the latter part of the eighteenth century, a Virginia gentleman spent hours riding over his plantation, inspecting his property, marking trees and making notes. It was a cold, rainy and blustery December day. Later, he ate his evening meal without changing out of his wet clothes. Within a day, he developed a fever and a sore throat. A firm believer in bloodletting (a common remedy at the time), he asked his overseer to draw some blood. His condition worsened, and eventually three doctors attended him. They drew even more blood, until half of his blood was drawn. Besides that, the doctors purged him and gave him an emetic to induce vomiting. Finally, he asked them to just leave him alone. And shortly after, George Washington died quietly and at peace. 

 

Find Shirley Martin here: 

http://shirleymartinauthor.com/

http://bookswelove.net/authors/shirley-martin/

and find Dream Weaver at Amazon, B&N, and most ebook and print retailers

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006HA3APY/