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It’s August, and for many that means county and state fairs. Living in Iowa, the state fair is a phenomenon people make plans for weeks before it begins and talk about it for months after it’s over. The smell of caramel corn, horses and livestock; the sounds of children squealing on the carousel and octopus rides, and the endless sights of people, colors, movement and lights are not something you forget. Even with that being said, I’ve yet to use a state fair for the setting of a book, but have used Independence Day celebrations, Christmas, a mermaid festival and the Kentucky Derby. Every celebration or holiday has specific details and rituals which, if the writer has studied well, bring the event to life for the reader. We feel the sweat trickle down our backs in the heat of a summer day and the press of people as we jostle in line for the rides. We smell the roasted corn; hear the vendors hawking the latest in veg-o-matics and massage chairs; see the beautiful quilts and food displays, and taste all there is to taste. Ah, that’s where the Iowa State Fair shines! At one time, you could get a corndog, cotton candy or popsicle on a stick. Now, it has become a serious undertaking each year to come up with different foods, most of them “on a stick”. Everything from fried pickles to pork chops becomes easily portable so you can continue your walk along the midway and displays. This year’s fair is touting 57 different foods for you to try. (You’d better plan to be there for more than one day!) Too many to list, I’ve picked a few that sound intriguing. All things apples – cider, caramel apple bites and cider shakes, apple nachos and more. I think the “Boozy Pecan Caramel Apple” sounds very tempting. All things bacon – (We’re known for our pork here in Iowa.) How about Berkshire Bacon Balls, on a stick, of course. Other food on a stick include Brownie waffles, chicken Parmesan and the traditional corn dog, though this one is super sized. And if it’s not on a stick (and often even when it is) you know it is fried. A few of the favorites this year include deep fried deviled eggs, fried avocado slices, and about ten or more flavors of funnel cakes. One year the group of us tried at least six different flavors of funnel cakes and I went home with powdered sugar all over my shirt. Last year before my family attended the state fair, we spent the evening watching “State Fair”, the movie. Some of you are thinking Pat Boone and Ann Margaret; I know I was. But not with my brother-in-law at the helm. A movie aficionado, he chose the 1954 version which was set at the Iowa State Fair, while the Pat and Ann movie had actually taken place in Oklahoma. Besides the fact the father had been dousing the mother’s fruit cake entry with bourbon (or some such), the thing I found remarkable were the clothes they wore to the fair. Today you see everything, and quite often less than anything! Some outfits should not have been worn out of the bedroom. But in 1954, the men were in suits and flat-topped straw hats and the women wore heels and dresses with crinolines! Can you imagine riding the five cent Ferris wheel in a dress? Come one, come all to the great state fair for family fun and entertainment. If you haven’t “done” a state fair, you are missing out on a great time. I'll be there August 12! Barbara Baldwin www.authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin |
Saturday, August 10, 2019
State Fair Time
I love to travel and would gladly roam from place to place.
Friday, August 9, 2019
So, You want to write a book? ~ by Rita Karnopp
So, You
want to write a book?
So, you want to write a book … and you’re wondering if you
should read all the ‘How To’ books out there before starting. What about books on pacing, characters,
grammar, setting the scene, mapping out the story, creating a beginning,
middle, and an end . . . and it goes on and on and on and . . .
Yep, if you decide before you write word one – you are going to
do nothing but research – then you’ll never write a sentence. I call it procrastination. Of course, this is my opinion. I firmly believe we learn to write – by
writing.
When it comes to creative writing - I know there are authors who
won’t agree with me. They’ll ask; “Why reinvent
the wheel?” Don’t get me wrong, reading
‘how-to write’ books is a great way to learn – but it shouldn’t overshadow real
writing.
I believe if you start writing you develop a natural flow – your
style – and no stack of books can teach you that. Don’t taint your creative writing by trying
to follow the steps of an established author.
That is her/his style – not yours.
Don’t get me wrong, a beginning writer will find invaluable
writing skills in the ‘how-to’ books out on the market. These books can improve
your technical abilities and improve your writing skills. Just remember they
are training tools – and you must take your own creative license to make a
story yours – writing in your ‘voice.’
You accomplish this by writing – writing – and writing. Writing is 80% revisions – and that’s how you
learn. You’ll never type a book from
start to finish without revising and even re-writing. Each time you’ll learn something new …
something that will polish the new story … something that you hadn’t mastered
when writing before.
I must add, it’s wise listen to advice and comments from
editors, agents, publishers, and established authors. You can learn so much from them if you respond
to criticism with an open mind. Never
take it personal. If you feel the
suggestion is an improvement … go for it.
If not … you have the right to ignore it.
When I first wrote my first book, Whispering Sun, my heroine was
deaf the entire novel. An agent loved
the story – but said, “You realize this book would be so much better if you
could figure out a way to have the heroine get her hearing back early in the
book.” OMG!! All I could think about is, I will have to
rewrite the whole book. I didn’t want to
do that. But, after thinking about it
long and hard – and even if I truly didn’t want to – I rewrote the entire
book. Best decision I ever made. The story is 95% better! It’s still my best seller year-after-year -
even though I’ve written 19 books!
Best writing advice I was ever given – and I want to share it
with you; “You’re only as good as your
next book.”
I would say writing is my passion . . . I see a story in just about every situation. I love Native American history and all the lessons it has to offer.
Thursday, August 8, 2019
Sophie's Scoundrel by A.M. Westerling
Visit A.M. Westerling's BWL Author Page for more of her Historicals and purchase links
Sophie's Scoundrel
A
Regency short story by A.M.Westerling
Sophie slid off
her mare and looped the reins over a convenient shrub.
Giving the horse a quick pat on the
nose, she turned and began the familiar trip down the little path that
meandered through the dunes to end up at the gravel and shell beach just on the
edge of her family’s estate. When she neared the edge of the sea, she held out
her arms and tilted her face to the sun before stripping off her bonnet. She tossed
it in the air where the breeze caught it and whirled it about ribbons and all
before it landed in a frivolous clump on the beach.
She
sat down and removed her riding boots and stockings and wriggled her toes with
sheer delight. Then she unpinned her hair and gave her a head a shake so the
chestnut curls spilled over her shoulders and down her back.
“Aaahhh.”
She sighed with pleasure. “I have missed this so.” Feeling a little foolish for
talking to herself, she glanced around to be sure that she hadn’t been heard.
It would not do to have the locals gossip that Lord Harrington’s eldest
daughter was daft!
Sophie gathered up
the skirts of her velvet riding habit and crunched across the beach to the
water’s edge, dabbling first one big toe then the other in the chilly waves.
The gravel pricked against the soles of her feet, delightful in its intensity
and for the first time in weeks she felt alive, well and truly alive. Not that
she hadn’t enjoyed her stay at boarding school but it had been restrictive, to
say the least.
She mimicked the
head mistress. “Sophie, you must pour this way, Sophie, you must set a stitch
that way, Sophie, mind that your voice is never raised.” Mama would be
scandalized if she saw Sophie now, poking fun at Miss Smythe and standing bare
foot in the sea.
“Your mama would
be scandalized.” A masculine voice
interrupted her, echoing her thoughts perfectly.
She spun around,
dropping her skirts into the water. Rueful, she glanced down for it was sure to
leave a stain. Then she raised her gaze to the stranger before her. And raising
her gaze it was for he stood at least a head taller than her. Her breath caught
in her throat.
He was handsome,
to say the least – tall, dark and lean with a rapacious air about him as if he would
pounce on his prey at any moment. Judging by his burnished cheeks, tousled hair
and the crop dangling from one wrist, he had also been out riding.
Sophie realized
she must look a fool standing there dumbfounded and ankle deep in water. For
once in her life she was completely nonplussed.
“You, you …”, she
stammered, managing to wobble her way back on to the beach without incurring
further damage to her frock.
“Yes?” Amusement
tinged the stranger’s voice.
Bravado was her
best option so she squared her shoulders and jutted her chin. “I meant to say
you’re trespassing.”
“I think not.” He pointed
to a marker just off to one side. “I believe that is the edge of my property.
Indeed, you are the one who is trespassing, Miss…?” The question dangled between them. When she
didn’t answer, he swept forward in an elegant bow. “Allow me to present myself.
I am Lord Bryce Langdon. And you?” Again he waited for a response and again she
declined to answer.
Oh
dear, she knew very well who Lord Langdon was. He’d just acquired the adjacent
land. In fact, they were all to meet him this evening for the first time. However, if word ever got out that she’d met
him in this situation, her reputation would be ruined. Anger at herself for the
foolishness that had brought her here unchaperoned made her tongue sharp.
“You, sir, are an
ill-mannered boor.” She spat the words at him. “Only an ill-mannered boor would
compromise a young lady as you have just done to me.”
“I must beg pardon
then for I had not recognized you as such.” He pointed to the ten toes peeping out
from beneath the hem of her skirt. “I dare say your behaviour is sadly
lacking.”
“You, you scoundrel, how dare you insult me so,” she fumed. “You, you -.” Her mind went blank, sucked bare by the devastatingly handsome man before her.
“You, you scoundrel, how dare you insult me so,” she fumed. “You, you -.” Her mind went blank, sucked bare by the devastatingly handsome man before her.
“Wretch?”
He suggested, the corners of his mouth beginning to lift.
Sophie stared at
him for a few seconds, watching the devilish grin threatening to take over his
entire face. Her lips twitched and she scowled in a vain attempt to maintain her
decorum. It didn’t work.
Giggles burbled up
and burst free and she began to laugh. He joined her, the sounds of their
laughter mingling with the cries of the sea gulls circling above. Bryce Langdon must be an astute judge of
character for he was entirely correct in his assessment of her. She detested
the rules and strictures of the upper class and it was that rebellious quality
that had landed her in boarding school in the first place. There was no point
in denying it.
“No, you’re
absolutely right. I’m not behaving like a lady. That is,” she hastened to
correct herself, squeezing out the words between giggles, “in the sense I do
not enjoy sewing and such. Much to the dismay of my mother and sisters, I
prefer to be outdoors.”
“And I am no
drawing room fop. So I see we shall get along famously. You have yet to introduce yourself?”
She curtsied.
“Lady Sophie Harrington. We are to meet this evening for dinner at Harrington
House.” A wry expression twisted her face.
“Please don’t mention to anyone that you saw me here today.”
Bryce took her
hand and raised it to his lips. “Rest assured, I shall tell no one. Tonight
when we meet, it will be as if for the first time.” His dark eyes were admiring
and warm with promise as he kissed her hand again before dropping it. “I look
forward to seeing you again, Lady Harrington.” He said her name carefully, rolling
out the syllables as if he savored the cadence. He saluted her with his crop
then turned on his heel.
Sophie watched him
walk away, scuffing his polished black boots along the beach until he
disappeared from view.
A secret smile
curved her lips. Perhaps, she thought to herself, not everyone thinks I must
conform to society’s rules. Perhaps I can be loved just the way I am. With a
light heart she gathered her boots, stockings and bonnet and made her way back
up the little path.
Wednesday, August 7, 2019
A Walking Tour of My Next Novel
Ever
since I decided to set the sequel to my debut novel, Kelegeen, in Worcester, Massachusetts, I’ve been seeing the city
in a new way. I grew up and still live in a town that abuts Worcester and work
a full-time job located in downtown Worcester. I’ve spent countless hours in
the city of Worcester. I even rented a house there many years ago.
Naturally, I thought I knew Worcester. I know how to get to a lot of places in
the city and even when lost, I’ve been able to use landmarks I can see in the
distance to figure out in which direction I should head. Of course, now that I
have GPS, I don’t need to do that, but sometimes I do just to know I still can.
Recently,
I discovered Crown Hill, a hidden jewel in a section of Worcester I never knew existed. My friend
and fellow writing group member, Cindy Shenette, is a docent for Preservation
Worcester. While discussing where my Irish domestic servant characters would
have lived and worked, Cindy mentioned Crown Hill. This, she said, is where Worcester’s middle class resided. They
were the folks who could have afforded to hire one, possibly two, domestic
servants. Perfect! Luckily for me, Cindy conducts walking tours of the Crown
Hill area and offered to take me on a private tour. Naturally, I jumped at the
chance.
On
a lovely morning in late June, Cindy picked me up and off we went. The tour
began outside a house a on the corner of Pleasant and Oxford streets. It was
built in 1844 by Asa Walker, a merchant tailor who owned a store on Marion
Street. Asa lived there with his wife, Lucy. Made of brick, the house is unusual for the
area since most were made of wood.
Greek Revival home of Asa and Lucy Walker built in 1844 |
Across
from the side of this house stands a brick building that is now Rob Roy Academy
Hair and Beauty School, but in the time of my story was the Pleasant Street
Primary School. Could this be where the children of Meg's and Kathleen's employers were educated?
Originally the Pleasant Street Primary School - Now the Rob Roy Academy Hair and Beauty School |
As
the tour continued along Oxford Street, Crown Street, Congress Street and the
sections of Pleasant Street and Chatham Street that pass through the Crown Hill
area, we saw a plethora of homes that would have stood at the time of the setting
of my novel. Most were Greek Revival along with a few Italianate and Second
Empire houses.
Greek Revival House |
Elijah and Mercy Brooks House - Served as a parsonage for a nearby Quaker Meeting House |
Two views of an Italianate house |
As
we strolled along, the morning grew warmer and we were grateful for the tree
lined sidewalks. We stopped to note the few remaining gas streetlamps (still in
use!) and hitching posts for horses (not still in use).
Gas streetl lamp - still in use |
Since
Crown Hill is a designated historic district there are strict rules governing what
residents are and are not allowed to do with the outside of their houses.
Though now, many of the Greek Revival houses are painted in various colors, in
the mid-1800s they would all have been an off-white, making the street resemble
a row of ancient Greek temples. As Cindy noted, if all the vehicles were
removed, the paved roads replaced with dirt, and the houses all painted the
same color, it would look pretty much the same as it did back then. It didn’t take much imagination to picture
myself as one of my characters walking down these very streets. What an amazing
feeling to enter into the world of my characters!
Tour guide and fellow writer, Cindy Shenette |
Author, Eileen O'Finlan taking notes while happily walking the same streets as her characters |
Labels:
books we love,
Crown Hill,
Eileen O'Finlan,
gas street lamps,
Greek Revival,
Italianate,
Kelegeen,
Massachusetts,
Preservation Worcester,
walking tour,
Worcester
Eileen O’Finlan was a member of the Worcester Writers Workshop for many years and now hosts a writing group at her home in Holden.
Kelegeen, published by BWL Publishing, is her debut novel. She is currently working on the sequel to be titled Erin's Children set in Worcester, Massachusetts.
Eileen is a holds a Bachelor’s Degree in history and a Master’s Degree in pastoral ministry.
When not writing or working her full-time job, Eileen facilitates online courses for the University of Dayton, Ohio.
Tuesday, August 6, 2019
What the heck is Blueberry Grunt?
August is Blueberry month in Maggie's world. |
What do YOU do with blueberries?
Foods in my books, including The Left-Behind Bride, are often specific dishes found in the community around Bridgewater, Lunenburg, and Riverport. Dishes called Hodge Podge, Solomon Gundy and Blueberry Grunt are commonplace there.
August through September is the blueberry season and the berries are prolific and delicious. If you’ve never had Blueberry Grunt, you're in for a hot, steamy, blueberry treat that rivals blueberry muffins. My mother made it is the pressure cooker or a large pot with a tight lid. Some people make it in a cast iron frypan and a lid. The name comes from the popping sound made by the blueberries as they heat up. Here’s a recipe.
BLUEBERRY GRUNT
(From the Pages of Out of Old Nova Scotia Kitchens, collected by Marie Nightingale, 1975 printing)
The Sauce
- · 1 Quart of blueberries
- · 1/2 cup of sugar (more to taste optional)
- · 1/2 cup of water
Put berries, sugar, and water in a pot, cover and boil gently until there is plenty of juice.
The Dumplings
- · 2 cups flour
- · 4 teaspoons baking powder
- · 1/2 teaspoon salt
- · 1 teaspoon sugar
- · 1 tablespoon butter
- · 1 tablespoon shortening
- · 1/4 to 1/3 cup milk
Sift flour, baking powder, salt and sugar into a bowl. (I put it in and whisk it instead of sifting.) Cut in the butter and shortening and add enough milk to make a soft biscuit dough. (A bit dampish.)
Drop by spoonfuls onto the hot blueberries. Cover closely (tightly) and do not peek for 15 minutes. Serve hot.
FOR MORE INFORMATION ON WHEN AND WHERE TO GET NS BLUEBERRIES GO TO:
This blueberry trivia comes from their site.
Wild Blueberry Trivia
- Nova Scotia's provincial production is over forty million pounds.
- The wild blueberry is the number 1 fruit crop in acreage export sales, and value.
- Oxford is the wild blueberry capital of Canada.
- Wild blueberries are high in antioxidants which have many health benefits including anti-aging effects, cancer inhibiting properties, heart health, urinary tract health, vision health.
- Nova Scotia wild blueberries are exported to the United States, Japan, Germany, United Kingdom and other countries.
- Harvesting of wild blueberries begins in August and continues until late September.
by Mahrie G. Reid, Author
Monday, August 5, 2019
Brighton A Famous English Seaside Resort by Rosemary Morris
For more information on Rosemary's latest novel please click on the cover.
Photo Credit Brighton-royal-pavilion-Qmin Creeative Commons
I am enjoying the research for my next novel, Saturday’s Child, Heroines Born on Different Days of the Week, Book Six, set in Regency Brighton, so much that I have shared some of the facts in this brief blog, which I hope you will enjoy.
The assumption that until the Regency era, Brighthelmstone, later called Brighton, was a small fishing village is false. The town became a popular health resort in the 1750’s due to the belief that bathing in the sea and drinking brine cured every ailment. (A subject I blogged about last month.)
When the twenty-one-year old heir to the throne first visited Brighton to enjoy merry-making, it was already a centre of fashionable, somewhat louche society. Nevertheless, in 1811 when the population numbered 14,000 residents, crime was negligible, and doors were not locked at night.
Fashionable Regency Brighton boasted elegant houses on the north side of Marine Parade, which was parallel to the ocean, facilities for bathing, assembly rooms, a theatre, shops, libraries, and the future Prince Regent’s ground where the nobility played cricket.
Parliament rose in June, after which the heat in London became intolerable and the capital city was considered unhealthy. Families retreated to their estates in the country or to a seaside resort along improved roads that shortened their journeys.
Those who did not own a house in Brighton could lease one, stay in clean, comfortable hotels, boarding houses or lodgings, which replaced accommodation in previously dirty, overcrowded inns.
An illustrious visitor was the future King George IV. The twenty-one-year-old Prince, later the Prince Regent, first came to Brighton to escape from his father’s rigid control and the court’s formality. In 1785 he rented a farmhouse situated by the River Steine, on a site only six hundred yards from the sea. Subsequently he bought the property. During the next thirty years the modest building was transformed into The Royal Pavilion which has been restored and is open to the public.
The Prince Regent knew more about architecture and fine arts than any other European Prince. He put his knowledge to good use when he commissioned the building. Yet, because of its domes and pagodas Sidney Smith commented that it looked ‘as if St Paul’s had gone to sea and pupped’. The Royal Pavilion became a Chinese fantasy with paintings of emperors and empresses, mandarins and high-born ladies on the walls, tasselled canopies with bells overhead and a profusion of imperial five-clawed dragons. As well the magnificent décor, the prince installed bathrooms, gas lighting, an early type of central heating, and the most up to date kitchen gadgets. He was so proud of these that he often took his friends to the kitchen to admire them.
Brighton is still a popular seaside town and a visit to The Royal Pavilion is a worthwhile experience.
Novels by Rosemary Morris
Early 18th Century novels: Tangled Love, Far Beyond Rubies, The Captain and The Countess
Regency Novels False Pretences.
Heroines Born on Different Days of the Week Books one to Six, Sunday’s Child, Monday’s Child, Tuesday’s Child, Wednesday’s Child, Thursday’s Child and Friday’s Child.
(The novels in the series are not dependent on each other, although events in previous novels are referred to and characters reappear.)
Mediaeval Novel Yvonne Lady of Cassio. The Lovages of Cassio Book One
www.rosemarymorris.co.uk
http://bookswelove.net/authors/morris-rosemary
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