Sunday, September 6, 2020

Flowers, Past and Present by Eileen O'Finlan


I love flowers. I love them so much, I turned my front yard into a garden. I had a white picket fence with an arch installed and a landscaper design and plant perennials inside and outside of the fence. I gave him free reign with only a few non-negotiables. He had to include roses that climb the fence, honeysuckle that will wind its way over the arch, plants that will blossom at different times from spring through late fall so that something is always in bloom, and lots of color. Oh, and low maintenance. That was important because I have health issues and not nearly enough time to keep up with a garden. I'm so glad I insisted on that last point. While I've always loved working in the garden, the advance of ankylosing spondylitis has put an abrupt end to that endeavor. Fortunately, I have a neighbor who has been doing an amazing job at keeping my front yard garden in great shape. Thank you, Wendy!

In Erin's Children, my forthcoming sequel to Kelegeen, readers will meet two characters who love flowers even more than I do. Pamela and Deborah Claprood are the daughters of the family for whom Meg O'Connor works as a domestic servant. Their love of flowers leads them to set up a conservatory in the back parlor where they can indulge not only their love of gardening all year, but also engage more fully in their favorite past time – the language of flowers. 

Known as floriography, the language of flowers has been around for thousands of years but was especially popular during the Victorian era. Each flower has a meaning. It was all the rage to send one another messages through flowers, but it only worked if you were conversant in the language. Pamela and Deborah are fluent. Meg, on the other hand, being practical as ever, thinks it's ridiculous. “If you have something to say, just say it” is her opinion.

I wonder what the Claprood girls would think of my garden. Could they use cuttings from my garden to send messages? What, indeed, does my garden say?





Why do we enjoy a book?



 IT IS ALL ABOUT STORY


Plot and Story are needed to make a book. But which is most important? Which one makes the book more readable?


"A plot is not a story,
 Plots are events, stories reveal how characters react to those events." (from the website Tameri Guide for Writers, http://www.tameri.com/write/plotnstory.html

 

 

 

What is plot?

The plot is the activity that happens in the book. It’s the series of events, in whatever order, that lead the characters to the end of the book. It is the vehicle for the story. A plot, to me, is like recorded history and by itself it’s boring. It does give the story structure. But it doesn't have "soul."

What is story? 

Story is the emotion, decisions, and growth of the characters. If we like a character, we root for them, weep with them, and laugh at their jokes. We care about them and read to find out what happens to them. STORY determines our enjoyment level of a book. Story is the backbone of storytelling.
Next time you don't like a book, see if it is because the characters are "cardboard" figures pushed around in a series of events.
If you do like a book, consider the characters. Do you like the main character? Did you read to find out if they triumphed in the end? Do you feel like you know the people in the book?
Chances are you'll easily see that the STORY is what helped you enjoy the read.

Both plot and story are necessary, but strong characters trump plot every time.
Excerpt from "Tools Not Rules" A guide for beginning and stuck writers. Written by Mahrie G. Reid and coming to the market in the summer of 2020

Saturday, September 5, 2020

Children in the Age Of Chivalry by Rosemary Morris



To find out more about Rosemary's books click the cover above.

Grace, Lady of Cassio, The Lovages of Cassio, Book Two, the sequel to Yvonne, Lady of Cassio, begins in the reign of Edward III. It will be published in October 2021.
At heart I am a historian. My novels are rich in historical detail which requires intensive research, some of which I am sharing in this blog.
Contrary to popular beliefs people understood the need for personal cleanliness. Even babies, who were wrapped in swaddling, were bathed regularly, but, sadly, approximately half of them died before they became adults.
Children were betrothed in infancy. The law allowed fourteen-year old boys and twelve-year old girls to marry, although co-habitation usually began when the wife was fourteen, an age at which pregnancy was encouraged.
After the age of five most of the peers’ sons and daughters went to another noble household to be brought up. At seven, boys destined for the church were tonsured and commenced a life of worship. Agricultural workers’ children worked in the fields from the same age. Craftsmen’s sons become apprentices when they were young, learned their trade and how to keep accounts. A child with a very low rank in society, who worked for a villein or poor franklin only received board and lodging.
In towns and country, the parish priest taught young children about the seven deadly sins. A surprising number of townswomen were literate. Nunneries might have poor be poor endowments, but they were keen to have schools and they educated as many girls as boys. There were formal schools in most towns but only for the minority who could afford the cost Cathedrals, Benedictine monasteries, and friaries often had schools attached to them, so did city churches. It was from such establishments that the clerks and clergy and the fourteen-year-old undergraduates at Oxford and Cambridge were drawn. However, the custom was for private tutors to educate great lord’s offspring.
I believe most parents wanted the best for their children. Some parents refused to punish them. Others applied brutal punishment. There were many manuscripts with different advice about how to bring up the young. A common belief was that a good father would apply the rod to instil fear of breaking the law – from the age of seven a child could be hanged for theft. Some mothers beat their daughters until they cried for mercy. In some people’s opinion, a lenient parent was considered to neglect his or her duties. In such circumstances, although children were instructed to love and honour their parents it must have been impossible.
In the age of chivalry, boys worked from the age of seven and were liable to serve in an army from fifteen onward. At the battle of Crecy, sixteen-year old Prince Edward commanded the vanguard. Can you imagine such a young commander leading troops into battle in the 21st century?
I believe most parents wanted the best for their children. When those placed in other households came home several times a year to visit them. I like to imagine these were happy occasions. The third Edward and his queen, who loved their children, were never parted with them at home or abroad for longer than necessary.
To conclude, I cried when I read Gawain’s heart-breaking poem about his pearl, his precious daughter Marguerite, who died before she was two,

www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

http://bookswelove.net/authors/morris-rosemary


Fathers.

Friday, September 4, 2020

Rasputin’s Murder by Katherine Pym

For something entirely different, a YA fantasy for all ages. 
Well imagined. 



Buy Here

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Imperial Family & others. Little Alexi is sitting on the ground, center.

WWI is a popular topic these days with re: to novels, movies and miniseries. Even as a child, I heard it referred to as The Great War but never realized the cruel impact of it, the men being gassed, and the horrors of battles fought almost entirely in trenches. This war involved almost every nation and killed (military & civilian) more than 18 million. 

No small potato. 

Grigori Rasputin, the Mad Monk
Russia took part in this war with Czar Nicholas on the front, trying to direct his generals and their portion of the battles. This left Grigory Efimovich Rasputin behind to give spiritual advice to the Czarina, much of her family and the local nobles. Vicious propaganda emerged Rasputin had bedded the Czarina and the two of them supposedly ruled Russia in the Czar’s absence.

Enter Felix Yusupov (also spelled Youssupov), a prince and more wealthy than the Imperial family. Felix was the second son who, after the death of his brother in a duel, inherited a vast fortune. They owned lands from Asia to Finland, reaped the benefits of minerals and other resources. He was raised knowing this, and was quite the wild fellow in his youth. 

Felix Yusupov
He enjoyed wearing his mother’s clothes and jewelry, went to nightclubs dressed as a woman. After an episode where his mother’s very expensive pearl necklace broke, pearls shooting all over the darkened nightclub floor, Felix’s father put a stop to all this nonsense. He set his son under close military guard and was taught to act like a man. 

Felix (in sailor suit) and his family
Eventually, due Felix’s father’s many absences from their numerous palaces and homes, this hard-line began to fade. Felix went to university at Oxford and resumed his frivolous life. When he returned to Russia, he married the Czar’s only niece. Even as Felix’s reputation was in tatters and the royal family considered him a flagrant ne’er-do-well but since he was richer than Croesus, he was okay.

Felix was introduced to Grigory Efimovich Rasputin, the popular ‘mad monk’ and spiritualist. Felix’s social circles, especially the women, were enamored with Rasputin. He had numerous affairs with women of all stations. His smoky grey eyes could mesmerize one.  His calm voice brought one peace.  

The Czarina considered him a gift from God who could heal the heir to the throne of his hemophilia. Felix’s aunt, the Grand Duchess Olga, professed her belief in Rasputin, that she observed him healing her dear nephew.

Russia’s nobles learned to hate Rasputin. The imperial couple shunted their counsel aside as Rasputin became more powerful. The Grand Duchess hounded Felix to love Rasputin. They met and—even as Felix proudly accounted for his part in the monk’s murder—something was missing in his account. Historians debate there may have been more to Felix and Rasputin’s relationship than spiritual meetings.  

Under the guise of restoring the reputation and dignity of the imperial family, nobles planned Rasputin’s assassination. They hoped the Czar would return to St Petersburg to rule Russia as he was meant to do during a crucial time as this and let his generals run the war.

December 29/30, 1916: (This is based on several accounts that don’t necessarily match, but there you have it.) Led by Prince Yusupov who instigated the whole affair, Grand Duke Dmitri Pavolovich, the Czar’s first cousin, Vladimir Purishkevitch, a Duma deputy, and two others lured Rasputin to Felix’s opulent home with the promise he would meet Felix’s wife.

Instead, he was taken down a winding staircase to a large cellar where he was fed wine and cake laced with cyanide. Either Rasputin was a strong man or the poison was faulty for the man did not die. He passed out though. Rasputin lay on the floor, now awake, and told Yusupov he would tell something damaging about him to the Czarina. This did not sit well with Felix.

The Courtyard where Rasputin finally breathed his last.
Since the Yusupov and the other men were committed, they shot him twice. One bullet hit him in his midsection, the second in his back.
Rasputin lived. He escaped to the mansion’s courtyard where he was cruelly beaten and shot again in the head. Finally dead, the men dumped Rasputin in a hole in the ice of a canal, knowing his body would be swept downstream.

The Czarina was furious. Felix and Dimitri were exiled. Dimitri found his way to America. Felix and his wife went to the Crimea then onward to Paris. They both survived the Revolution.

As a footnote: One article I read stated that without Rasputin and how much he was hated, how he had controlled the Czarina and her husband, there would have been no room for Vladimir Lenin.

But then again, who knows.

~*~*~*~*~*~
Many thanks to:

Wikicommons &


Thursday, September 3, 2020

AHA Moments in Writing by Diane Bator





A-ha moments. Writers have had them.
In fact, we've ALL had them at some time or another.

For writers, we've all had sections of a story where we just can't move past a certain hurdle, or even if we do the story just doesn't work for us. It's not really writer's block, but just a niggly feeling that the book we are writing isn't quite working but we can't put our finger on why even after the entire manuscript is complete.

While working on Written in Stone, my current works in progress scheduled for release in November 2021, I've had one little part of the story that hasn't seemed right for months. How to create a fire that doesn't damage the structure of a building. I was so focused on that ONE detail, that I didn't even look at the rest of the book for a bigger, more glaring issue. The main character's entire background and how it affects the plot of my novel.

By definition, an aha moment is a point where an important insight, choice or decision is made. I think of it as a release from what some people call Writer's Block. Oddly enough, my own aha moment came this weekend while digging in rocks on the shores of Lake Huron where I look for seaglass. (I suppose lakeglass would be a more suitable term.) With my hands busy, my mind wandered.



I wasn't even thinking about the book at the time, yet it rushed at me like a large wave and solved a couple of the big problems with one opening scene that explained yet not overwhelmed the reader with information while jetting the story along smoothly. Yes, I made notes when I could, then later sat and wrote out the entire chapter. My next step is to add them to the novel and see how well it works and what other changes I need to make.

That solved one problem. Now I need to go back through the entire novel to make it flow.
I also have to figure out what to do with all my seaglass!

Have a wonderful day and let your creativity flow!

Diane Bator




Wednesday, September 2, 2020

Fall is Coming





Where did the summer go? Seems like the older I get the quicker time goes by. I like Fall, don't get me wrong. The colors, the smell, even the cooler weather. As most of you know, much as I love summer, I don't like the 90 degree days and I surely don't like the humidity. Especially not when I have to do yard work.
And there's plenty of that to do. I finally bought hubby a riding lawn mower so at least I don't have to cut the grass, well at least not all of it There's a few places he can cut with the rider, so I still have to bring out the other mower. And I have all the weeding and edging to do.
I bought a stand up grass trimmer for along the fence. Neither mower could get
that close. It sure saves a lot of time and energy. And I broke down and bought an edger for along the pavement. The yard looks much neater now, but it's going to take a couple times to get it where it should be.

The lady next door gave us a snowblower. I've never used one, and I can't say I'm looking forward to it.. Not that I mind using one, but I'm not looking forward to the cold weather and snow. It's not that I mind the cold, I just don't like wearing all those heavy clothes. It's so nice to go out without a jacket. But the cold weather will be here before we know it and I pray it will bring an end to this horrible virus. I'm so tired of wearing masks and social distancing. I'm a hugger and a toucher.  I miss that communication with my friends. I miss doing things we took so much for granted, like giving the sign of peace at church, sitting in front of, behind, or next to people we know. I miss seeing many people at church. I miss going in or out of the door I choose at the store.
I miss visiting people, going to lunch with my siblings.
But Fall is coming and with the cooler weather, leaves will take on their Fall colors and soon we'll have different outdoor work. Leaves to rake, lawns to cut for the last time, bulbs to plant for early spring flowers, patio furniture to store, and garden decorations to put away. I've always thought of Fall as a sad time. The trees become bare, flowers wilt, and the days grow shorter. I would rather have spring when new life abounds. Trees bud, flowers bloom, the days grow longer and warm weather comes.
It's been fairly warm so far, in fact downright hot, but next week temps will be more fall-like. I'm sure we'll get warmer weather this month. I hope we do. I'm still waiting for my tomatoes to ripen. They were off to a late start because the deer ate them before they had a chance to bud.

You can find more of my books here.



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