Knights Loaf, Cheat Bread, Maslin: what's in a name?...by Sheila Claydon

 

Click here for my BWL page

So let me introduce you to one of the main characters in my next book. Old Mill!

Hidden away in woodland on the edge of a golf course, it has stood four-square for more than 600 years. Its roof fell in long ago. Its water wheel has disappeared, and so, more bizarrely, has the tumbling river that turned it. If it wasn't for the blue placque beside what was once a door, you wouldn't know it had ever been a mill. A best guess would have been a tumbledown shack a couple of hundred years old. 

Because I wanted to use it as the basis for my next book, the third one in my Mapleby Mysteries trilogy, I needed to find out more about it, however, and goodness me I've been amazed. Not about the old mill itself but about medieval mills in general and medieval life in particular.

For example, I learned that the same as a church, there was a mill in every medieval village, usually owned by the lord of the manor but operated by a miller. The miller was always better off than most of the peasant farmers who used the mill. This was because everyone needed their corn, rye, oats and barley milled, ground into flour and made into bread, so he (it was always a he) was never out of work. Many millers also made bread from the peasants own flour and then charged them for it. The peasants also had to pay the feudal lord banalities (small fees) for the use of the mill, so no wonder they were always poor.

The miller, who often had a baking house next to the mill, made as many as 20 different types of bread, most of which had names unusual to today's ears. There was the Knights loaf, the Popes loaf, Maslin, which was a mix of wheat and rye, and Manchets and Pandemain. Manchets were large rolls and loaves of white bread, while Pandemain  was the loaf preferred by the lord of the manor and his wealthy friends and relatives. Both of these were made from finely ground and sifted wheat flour, while their poorer cousin was Wastel,  a white bread made from flour that had been less carefully sieved. 

There was also Cheat bread, made from wheat flour that had the worst of the bran removed, and horse bread, which was made from a mix of cereals, pulses, bran and acorns.This was originally made for horses but many of the poorest people had no choice but to eat it to keep themselves alive, especially in times of famine. And that was another thing I learned. There was often famine, or flooding, and living in medieval times was very, very hard. 

There was no such thing as rest either . Millers and peasants alike toiled from dawn to dusk, working to the seasons. Everything from planting to ploughing, sowing and harvesting, scaring the birds (done mostly by children) pruning and weeding, and even fertilising the fields, had to be done in the correct season, the same as shearing and butchering. And all this was done  alongside basket making, weaving, animal husbandry, collecting  eggs and nuts and berries, preserving food by salting and smoking, digging ditches to protect the fields from flooding, and of course collecting wood to repair their own houses and tools and keep them warm in the winter. No electricity, no glass in the windows of their one roomed huts or cruck houses, where everyone, including the animals, slept together around a central fire in the winter both for warmth and as protection from the wild animals that roamed the fields at night. No wonder life was short and brutish. No wonder more babies died than lived. 

Of course I won't put all of this into my book because there is nothing more boring than reading too much detail about a particular activity, so the skill of the writer is to give just enough to inform and not a single word more.However, for realism, I'm going to have to convey the poverty and dirt of those times while somehow making the medieval protagonists attractive enough to intrigue the modern day reader. I've also got to come up with a title. The first two books in the trilogy are Remembering Rose and Loving Ellen, so to go with the flow I need to find something short that goes with Sophie, the heroine. I'm still working on that but when I've found it, I'll let you know.

Happy Birthday, Ursula's Inheritance!

Buy Ursula's Inheritance here 

I'm celebrating the publication of Book 3 in my American Civil War Brides series, Ursula's Inheritance. This one was born of readers' request to know if Ursula's young marriage to soldier and sometimes spy Rowan Buckley will survive the war that brought them together in Mercies of the Fallen (Book 2). At the end of that novel, they had decided to wait until the war was over to decide if they would continue their lives together. 

I thought finding each other after the New York City Draft Riots of 1863 and Rowan assisting at the birth of his (surprise!) son, would be enough of an answer. Reader's disagreed! And they were worried!!

They will get their answer, and their links to both Book 1 (Seven Aprils) and Book 2 (Mercies of the Fallen) in this one! They will learn some little known facts about the Civil War too. Did you know that: New York City was full of spies and "Copperheads" (Southern sympathizers)? That African American troops once trained on the now infamous Rikers Island? That there was a prosperous and accomplished community of African Americans called Weeksville in Brooklyn? That Southern arsonists tried to burn the city down in 1864? 

I had to dig hard in Ursula's past for this one. What did I find? that she is the woman that Hannah Gadsby describes in her wonderful quote from Nanette : "There is nothing stronger than a broken woman who has rebuilt herself."

I hope, dear readers, you will agree, as you discover who is hiding behind that fan on the cover of Ursula's Inheritance!

Starting a First Draft -- It's Scary!

 

Please click this link to learn more about the author and her books

One thing I discovered when I began writing novels thirty years ago -- I can't write from an outline. After a few failed attempts, I learned my natural process was to start with some basic ideas for people, locations and storylines, add an inciting event, and then develop the characters and plot in the course of writing. This makes starting each novel a leap in the dark. 

Last month I plunged into the fourth book of my Paula Savard mystery series. In addition to not outlining, I have a bad habit of doing something different with each book. The first one was an amateur sleuth mystery; book #2 was a classic whodunnit. Book #3 added multiple narrators and two timelines. All three introduced a dead body in Chapter One. Book # 4 doesn't. 

I didn't realize why this new story had to start this way until I was a couple of chapters along. At the end of book #3, Winter's Rage, Paula is so rattled by the story events that she vows to never get involved with another homicide case. Paula needs to be tricked into it for there to be a book # 4. From the start I could see a problem. How would I sustain reader interest without a corpse?

My initial plan was to repeat the style of Winter's Rage, with a narrator other than Paula relating a past storyline. This backstory would have a murder early on. I circled the idea (procrastinated) by writing this backstory as a short story, but it didn't work as fodder for my novel. I couldn't see its  relevance to the main plot I had in mind or that a past murder would make up for the main plot's meander out of the gate.

Well, I'd stalled long enough. Time for the leap into the novel. I wrote Chapter One, by hand sitting out on my patio enjoying Calgary's warm fall weather, and continued with Chapter Two. Then an idea hit. I'd insert two secondary viewpoint narrators, two detectives, who know something is going on that Paula doesn't. Through them, readers would see murder lurking and get into the suspense of Paula becoming involved despite herself.

I hoped.  

The approach worked for me and held my interest through the subsequent chapters. Now I'm 1/4 way through the manuscript and planning to add a fourth narrator, Isabelle, an erratic character established in previous books. One of my detective narrators is also a regular in the series. It helps that I already know these two characters well, but I feel a pressure about finally giving them voices and worry this will mess with how readers and I had pictured them before. Isabelle and both detectives will work at cross purposes with Paula to complicate the plot.   

The story feels like it's beginning to gel. I've outlined the next four chapters and expect they'll lead to a corpse around the novel's midpoint. I'm almost sure who the victim will be. The killer is probably one of three suspects and there might be a second murder later in the book.

This discovery stage used to be my favourite part of writing novels. With my first books, I let the stories go wherever they wanted and fixed them up later. This required a lot of fixing. But from experience, I've developed a sense of pacing. In this current novel first draft, I've rewritten and cut scenes that didn't work or slowed the story down before moving forward in the plot. This makes writing first drafts harder and they take longer. Now I find the next stage, revision, more enjoyable than the excitement of leaping to an unknown place. Maybe I'm just getting older. 

Over the years I've read writing advice books and heard many writers talk about their writing process. I'd estimate the split is about 50/50 between novelists who outline and us "pantsers," who fly by the seats of our pants. There's a third group, a minority sometimes called "quilters," who write scenes they later assemble in order. I don't understand them, as my process is linear. Although I find myself thinking of part-scenes for the chapters coming up, so perhaps I'm learning to quilt a little. 

I have to take a short break from the manuscript now. Drat! Now that I've got the beginning in place I'm less scared and I'm excited to see where the story and characters are going.                       

Eleventh Hour of the 11th Day of the 11th Month by Karla Stover

 

Available to purchase from

 https://bookswelove.net/stover-karla/

The war I have always been most interested in is World War I. For better or worse, it was what writer Paul H. Murray called "a watershed moment in American history." Innovations included Kleenex, Day Light Savings (we can thank the Germans for that. It was a way to save coal), blood banks, sanitary napkins, here's a good one: Pilates, thanks to German body builder Joseph Hubertus Pilates, stainless steel (British), zippers (Americans), wristwatches, (Elizabeth I strapped a small clock to her arm) and drones (thank you Orville Wright). Out with trench warfare and in with the modern battlefield, submarines replacing the "High Seas fleet. All of a sudden people had access to sun lamps, tea bags, and plastic surgery. However, one thing often forgotten is camouflage. Here's how Wikipedia describes it: the concept of visual deception developed into an essential part of modern military tactics. In that war, long-range artillery and observation from the air combined to expand the field of fire, and camouflage was widely used to decrease the danger of being targeted or to enable surprise. As such, military camouflage is a form of military deception." For years I've been interested in camouflage because a Tacoma, WA. girl studied the art and headed to the western front to make use of her studies.

Tacoma's Enid Jackson graduated from Tacoma's Annie Wright Academy and Philadelphia's Academy of fine Arts. During her teenage years she learned to drive and took an aviation course to learn from up above" the best use of colors to create deception." or as one local newspaper wrote, "learning to fool the Hun birdmen."

Most people are aware of camouflage clothes but maybe not of trees and horse bodies soldiers could hide in, or of fake heads peering over the trenches to attract gunfire thus revealing where the enemy was hold up.

While Enid was doing her part, people all over western Washington were out in bogs gathering sphagnum (bog) moss. 

As early in the war as 1915, field hospitals were running out of cotton for dressings. Enter Lieutenant Colonel E.P. Sewell who suggested using sphagnum. According to Robin Kimmer professor of ecology at SUNY-Environmental Science and Forestry and the author of Gathering Moss: A Natural and Cultural History of Mosses, “ninety percent of the cells in a sphagnum plant are dead and they’re supposed to be dead. They’re made to be empty so they can be filled with water.” They are also independent of each other which helps keep the water in. And sphagnum also has antiseptic qualities. During the war (and in other places, other times, and among other cultures) medical personal took advantage of that liquid-absorbing capacity to soak up blood, pus and other bodily fluids. "The American Red Cross provided precise instructions for how to layer the moss with nonabsorbent cotton and gauze." The packaged moss, known as Pershing Packs named for General Pershing, was then sterilized in autoclaves and shipped to field hospitals. Puget Sound cities held moss drives, and according to the country's Moss Czar (yes, there was one but I can't remember his name) our moss was the best quality.

In addition to to our camouflage artist and moss drives, and because we were (and are) adjacent to Camp Lewis, now Joint Base Lewis McChord, practically everyone here was knitting socks, including in church and on the school grounds during breaks. We had women who specialized in making the heels which not everyone could do.

What with meatless days and metal drives and horrible mortality rates, those were tough years, but they also drew communities together, something you don't much see anymore.

Skating Champ Scott Hamilton Reveals the Conversation He Had with Producer Busbee Shortly Before His Death

Whose death? 

I guess I'm a reader / writer snob but love these.

Opening Lines

 

Available at www.bookswelove.net

            I recently started reading a book; put it aside; picked it up to continue then put it aside again. Why? The first 2 chapters (one each for the hero and heroine) were about the two main characters – all their angst, regrets, problems and troubles. It was their thoughts and reflections with the only action being that they were thinking and reflecting while eating or driving. This sounds harsh, but too much information at the beginning of a story can very easily cause a reader to stop reading altogether. Yes, the information is needed, but throwing it all into the first chapters is sometimes called an “information dump” and is not always the best way to start a story. The fact that the 2 main characters don’t meet or interact in any way until well after page 80 was another problem for me, especially considering this was a contemporary romance.

Industry standards for fiction writing have changed over the years and there are probably not hard and fast rules as to what a writer must do and there are as many ways to start a book as there are books written. Oftentimes, historicals have more background and descriptions before getting into the actual story. I know that I write differently when creating an historical than when I’m doing a contemporary. There is usually a slower flow to the scenes and more detail.

My question is – what pulls you into a book from the get-go? Is it a long idyllic description of the setting? Is it a monologue by the main character of all he/she hopes for as he/she looks longingly in the mirror? Is it a first sentence or paragraph that drops you right into the middle of the action? Take a look at the following opening lines and paragraphs from 5 different books.

1.         1. “Stop! Thief!” (Snowflakes and Kisses)

2.     2. “You can’t take my kin,” Joe shouted, struggling against the deputy who had pinned his arms behind his back. (Tenderhearted Cowboy)

3.   3.   “Suicide,” Michael Grant stated in a flat voice as he stared at the cold body on the warehouse floor. (Love in Disguise)

4. To whoever finds this journal: I started out this rainy November morning in 1988 as an archeology intern uncovering sunken treasure from the Steamboat Arabia, but due to circumstances I don’t understand, at the end of the day I found myself on board the Arabia, back in 1856, the year it sank. (Hold on to the Past)
5. Cheyenne stepped onto the boardwalk outside the Bed & Breakfast and slipped on her sunglasses to cut the glare of the late morning light. The only redemption from the hot July sun was the breeze blowing off the nearby bay. She sighed. She wasn’t here to enjoy the pristine beach and crystal blue water of the small tourist town. She was on a mission and today she would run her quarry to ground, if she had to burn down every tavern in a two mile radius. (Prelude and Promises)

        First let me say these are opening lines from 5 of my books. Given I have over twenty published books and I am only sharing five openings, it is safe to say that I might not always follow my own advice as to how to start a book. (Some of the 20 are historical and time travels so I plead paragraph 2 above.) Some of my stories take a little more than a paragraph to get in gear and there’s nothing wrong with that. But here’s the thing. I once cut an entire opening chapter (as my heart bled because it was good writing) for the simple reason that it did nothing to get the story going. It was background – important information – but not as necessary at the beginning of the story as I originally thought. That didn’t make it any easier to delete. Some writers will tell you “edit” is a 4-letter swear word, especially after you’ve spent hours and gallons of coffee constructing that one page.

I like to read books that quickly put me into the middle of the action, and so those are the types of books I try to write. That’s what happened with my newest holiday romance, so I leave you with the first few pages:

“Stop! Thief!”

Rem jerked upright from tying his shoe and saw Mrs. Peacock drop to a bench against the wall as a youngster grabbed her grocery bag and darted down the sidewalk. He took off and caught him by the collar within half a block, jerking him around.

“Robbie Jenkins, what the hell?” The kid was a local; a good kid as far as he knew and never in trouble of any kind. Grabbing him in a head lock, he dragged him back to where the older lady still sat.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Peacock?” he asked, easily keeping a squirming Robbie locked against his side.

She turned to look at him in surprise, then quickly glanced straight ahead. “I’m…I’m fine, Sheriff,” she said loudly. “He may have gotten my groceries, but he didn’t nab my tickets to the Winter Festival!” She held up two cardboard tickets, grinning somewhere off to his left.

“Cut! That’s a wrap!” A voice hollered from across the narrow thoroughfare.

Rem stood on the sidewalk, Mrs. Peacock grinning like a loon and Robbie struggling to get free. As he tried to process the scene, Gwendolyn, his twin sister, hurried across the street.

“Oh my gosh. That was totally unscripted but so much better than I could have written,” Gwen exclaimed when she stepped onto the sidewalk. Behind his sister stood a man with a camera and a couple of other people he didn’t recognize.

 “Let him go, Rem,” Gwen said, tugging on his arm.

He kept his grip on Robbie. “He took Mrs. Peacock’s groceries,” he said but even as he spoke, he didn’t sound very convincing. His sister laughed and the others joined in. Rem could feel his face heat.

“We’re making a marketing video,” his sister said with a sigh. “Now let him go.”

Rem looked back at Mrs. Peacock who slowly nodded in agreement, a smile on her wrinkled face.

“Did I get my lines right, Gwendolyn, dear?” she asked sweetly.

“You were awesome,” Gwen answered before turning back to Rem with a brow raised.

He slowly released Robbie but latched onto his sister’s arm instead. None too gently, he tugged her away from the rest of the people clustered in front of Nobbie’s Grocery.

“What the hell, Gwen?” He spun her to face him.

“Seriously, Rem, with all your literary skills, can’t you come up with something more original?”

“Don’t push me, Gwendolyn Elizabeth Matthews. Spill it.” His twin had been the bane of his existence for thirty years and that didn’t appear to be changing anytime soon.

She pulled her stocking cap off and shook out her hair, the black curls swaying around her face. It was like looking into a mirror except for the length of her hair. The same green eyes stared back at him, the same straight nose and high cheekbones defined their Irish heritage although her features were somewhat softer than his. Unfortunately, the same stubborn chin rose in defiance.

“You know you can’t bully me, Rem, even if you are the sheriff and even less because you’re my brother. We were shooting a video for the community calendar to advertise the Winter Festival.” As head of the Chamber of Commerce, his sister went overboard sometimes to put Cherrywood on the map.

He rubbed a hand over his face. “You could have told me. I thought we were having an actually robbery.”

“Hungry for a little action?” She grinned at him and the last of the tension slid away. He had to admit being sheriff, albeit part time, in the sleepy little town of Cherrywood didn’t lead to many bragging rights at the national law enforcement conventions. The entire town had only a few thousand people; more in the summer as it was a hot beach destination on the east coast.

However, once the first frost came, the tourists left and residents hunkered down for the winter. Now that December had arrived, the wind off the Long Island Sound often blew bitterly cold. So far this winter, the snow accumulation promised a brisk business for the Winter Festival with all the activities the town had planned.

“Delete that video,” he ordered as he tugged his stocking cap over his ears and turned to finally start his daily run.

“No way,” his sister called behind his back. “Don’t forget to stop at the office and sign a release.” Her laughter followed him down the street.

***

I hope you’ll join Rem, Gwen and the residents of Cherrywood for a fun filled, very festive holiday season in my newest romance – “Snowflakes and Kisses”. Erin Thomas has already made her reservation and while she’s looking forward to all the holiday activities, she has no idea of the surprises awaiting her. Available now at https://bookswelove.net/baldwin-barbara/

            Also for the holiday season, Books We Love is having a weekly give-away now through December 15. You can easily enter at https://bookswelove.net for a chance to win a free holiday eBook (mine included) and a chance to win an eBook reader. Books We Love knows how much you love books and we want to help spread the cheer.

All Best Wishes,

Barb

http://www.authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin

https://bookswelove.net/baldwin-barbara/

 

 

 

How NOT To Be A Gremlin During Your In-Person Book Reading! by Vanessa C. Hawkins

 

 Vanessa Hawkins Author Page

So if you're here because you've read the title than you already know. This Saturday I have a book reading!

 

Yay!

Which is great! The Lorenzo Society of the University of New Brunswick has invited me and three other local authors to read at the local library. There will be a panel discussion and book signings and presumably readings... It's definitely yay worthy. But the question that usually pops up when this sort of event occurs is how do I look and act like a normal person when in fact I am... well...

A writer...

Reading your own stuff aloud is the worst!

Now, anyone that knows me is aware that I am not particularly introverted, but I assure you that based on the opinions of many of my writer friends and acquaintances, I am an anomaly. That's not to say that I don't get nervous about standing up in front of people and reading aloud something I poured a piece of my heart and soul into... but I'm also not going to faint or drink a box of wine to get me through it. 

I can get by with only one glass of wine...

In fact, my original method was to make the audience MORE uncomfortable than I was prone to be! Listen to my reasoning... If I read something that is weird or makes them squirm... most probably they will not only remember it, but secretly want more! Also... fewer people will come up to you after your done because well... they know what kind of crap you're writing. My logic is sound... shhh!

Unless they are as weird as you... which means potential friends! :D

The first reading I ever did was in South Korea. I read a raunchy scene I had wrote in my first book--something about splitting a melon... I'll let you guys mentally elucidate that one. 

The second time I did a reading I read aloud a murder scene...

...and then she screamed as the killer KILLED HER! KILLED HER TO DEATH!

I got tons of accolades! And made tons of friends... *more than two, I think* Of course those two particular readings were at bars late into cocktail hour but... ya know it worked out alright. 

This time it won't be so crazy--which is probably for the best because this is an actual reading that doesn't take place in a bar or some poetry rich cafe. 

See? It's real! That's my face in the banner.

I'll also be reading from a book that isn't as risqué as my other novels--which is probably the result of writing with Tara and not just relying on my own sinister mind babies. But regardless, it will be fun! 

If your ever in the position or thinking about doing a reading however, I do have some other tips outside of making your audience regret ever coming. I can understand that if your mom is watching, it may be difficult to read something as raunchy as "melon splitting." Of course I don't know that from experience...

Ahem...

But I am digressing...

Advice the first! It's easier if you are reading with other authors. Somehow your combined authorness *awkwardness... cough cough* provides some kind of protective shell that can tend to alleviate a large portion of your anxiety! 

Advice number two! Be prepared beforehand. Carefully choose and read aloud in the mirror to yourself a few times. 

Advice three. Make sure you know where the bathroom is when you arrive at the reading aloud venue! If you're anything like me, you may get the nervous poops or have to pee right before its your turn. 

Last advice tip! Don't worry too much about it. If you've been invited to read, chances are people want to hear you and are excited about your book. Own your words! 

 

Oh crap, sorry George! I completely forgot to mention you!
"That's ok. No worries, brah! Leave me outta it."
Guess it would be hard for you to do a reading, eh? Especially for a book that isn't out yet...
"Why you gotta do me like that, huh?"
Sorry, George... 

The Red Quilt by J. S. Marlo

 

 

 

 

The Red Quilt

 

Paperbacks are available now at Amazon

Ebooks will be released on November 15, 2021

To pre-order, click here

J. S. Marlo's BWL Books

As I promised months ago--I know I skipped a few months somewhere--this is the book cover for my newest novel "The Red Quilt", a sweet romantic suspense novel taking place on Prince Edward Island during the Holiday Season.

A book makes a great Christmas gift. It's easy to wrap, and you can place it under the tree or hide it in a stocking...along with a pack of 'happy' tissues.

 How horribly wrong, or right, could a last-minute Christmas trip go? Well...

A last-minute Christmas trip goes horribly wrong for Eli and his five-year-old granddaughter, Ruby. On their way to a Bed and Breakfast on Prince Edward Island after a kitchen fire forced them out of their house, they get caught in a blizzard and end up in the ditch.

Retired Military Nurse, Lana, lives on a potato farm with the ghosts of her husband and son. She welcomes into her home the marooned Eli and the young child he raises alone. The storm outside rages on and problems arise as Eli faces the demons and mistakes of his past, Lana becomes entangled in her neighbors’ illegal activities, and Ruby wishes for something Santa cannot give her.

 

The resulting mix offers hope for a second chance even as it threatens their lives. Can Eli and Lana survive another storm to enjoy the love growing between them? And will Ruby’s wish be granted?

"The Red Quilt" is the first book in my latest series "Fifteen Shades". So, what is the Fifteen Shades Series and  how did I come up with?

The Fifteen Shades Series are holiday tales inspired by colors. As the mysteries unfold and romance blossoms, intriguing new shades are unveiled.

Way back when I could meet my friends in person, before the pandemic turned me into a hermit, Jody and I were talking about book covers and titles. During our conversation, she made a comment about colors and the different meanings associated with them. It sparked a crazy idea, an idea that has been rattling around my brain ever since. What if I pick a color then introduce a shade of that color in every chapter of my story? The more I thought about the concept, the more interesting it became.

Finding fifteen shades of a color was easy, finding the meaning or origin of each shade involved more research, but finding a storyline in which I could seamlessly lace these different shades together proved challenging.

I was wrapping presents with my little granddaughter last November when inspiration struck. What about a sweet Christmas story with an adorable little girl and a dog? As the story came to life in my mind, a red glow settled over it. I had found the right storyline with the right color.

I wrote The Red Quilt in four months, which is a record speed for me. It is a standalone Christmas novel that will make you feel all good and toasty inside--after many twists and turns.

Next, I will tackle the color blue. A storyline is currently taking shape in my mind, thanks to my son's recent wedding. All the elements aren't in place yet, but I may borrow a minor character from The Red Quilt, and turn him or her into the main character of The Blue Ribbon.

The Red Quilt is available in print at Amazon now & at Barnes & Noble on Nov 15.

The Red Quilt  will be released in ebook on Nov 15, but it can be pre-ordered now at your favorite retailer. To pre-order/purchase, click here.

 Happy Reading & Stay Safe

JS

 

 

J. S. Marlo's Website

 

Addressing Book Clubs by Eileen O'Finlan

 

Click here for purchase information

Click here to visit Eileen O'Finlan's website

Recently, a friend told me that her book club was reading Erin's Children and asked if I would address the group. I told her I would be delighted. So a few weeks ago, I spent a lovely evening with seven women engaged in discussion about the book's themes and characters and the writing and publishing processes. The wine and snacks were an added bonus especially the pumpkin roll and homemade apple crisp. Since I set Erin's Children in Worcester, Massachusetts, a city with which this group was very familiar, all living in or near it, the setting too became a topic of conversation. One of Worcester's historic sections, known as Crown Hill, is featured in the novel as the location where the main characters live and work. One of the book club ladies mentioned that she drove through the Crown Hill area to get a feel for it before coming to the meeting that evening. Another woman brought with her a picture of her grandmother and two aunts who had come to the United States from Ireland much in the way that Meg and Kathleen do in Erin's Children. The way these readers shared their connection with the book was truly touching.

I have given several talks at public venues, all of which I have enjoyed, but I must say that book clubs have a certain charm all their own. For one thing, it is much easier on the author not to have to prepare a long presentation only engaging with the audience during Q&A at the end. Also, book club meetings are often held in someone's home, making the setting much cozier. Settling into a living room chair, making conversation with a group of interested readers is very much like attending an intimate gathering at the home of a friend. It's so much more relaxed than standing at a podium or sitting behind a table while giving a talk to a group seated auditorium style and wondering if their expressions relate to your words or the hard chairs.

Until recently, I thought that my options for addressing book clubs would be few since they would usually have to be local. But the recent COVID-created dependence on Zoom has made me realize that I can address book clubs anywhere. It may not be quite the same as being there in person, but it's not that far off and is a godsend for reaching people at a distance. To that end, I have included a page on my website for book clubs with a link to contact me. I have also created a set of questions for book clubs in pdf form for Kelegeen and Erin's Children. I'm looking forward to more book club gatherings far and wide.

Gentlemen’s Fashion in the Early 18th Century Part One by Rosemary Morris

 

To find out more about Rosemary and her books please click on the cover.

I write classic, fact fiction, historical novels set in different eras. At heart I am a historian and enjoy research that brings my characters’ lives and times to life. Three of my published novels, Far Beyond Rubies, Tangled Love and the Captain and the Countess are set in Queen Anne Stuart’s reign, 1702-1714. I am now writing my fourth novel set in her reign.

Throughout the 18^th century the basic details of a gentleman’s suit, a coat, waistcoat, and breeches were the same. However, the details changed. Full dress and undress differed according to the materials they were made from. Hard wearing ones were chosen for undress, less formal wear. Damask. cut velvet and satin, often lavishly trimmed, or embroidered were popular for full dress. At court, gold stuff, silver stuff, brocade, flowered velvet, or embroidered cloth was worn.

Coats were close fitting, with wide skirts that flared from the waist to a little after the knees. The loose-fitting, full sleeves with large cuffs ended above the wrist allowing the sleeves to be gathered into a narrow band edged with a ruffle aka frill.

Neckcloths. The lace edged ends of a simply tied neckcloth made, of linen, lawn or muslin flowed from the throat to halfway down the chest. An alternative was the steinkirk with ends threaded through a buttonhole on the right and fastened with a brooch. 

Waistcoats were tightly fitted at the waist, the skirt stiffened with buckram. Buttons and buttonholes matched those on coats. The lower buttons were unfastened. Bridegrooms wore white waistcoats.

Breeches were made of cloth, velvet, plush or silk knit lined with holland linen, dimity or shagreen silk. Unless they matched the coat, except for leather riding breeches, they were often black.

Stockngs. Hand knitted stockings were either plain or ribbed with clocks either knitted into the design, or hand embroidered with coloured silks, gold, or silver thread. They were made from thread, cotton, yarn, jersey knit, worsted, and silk; and were worn either over the hem or below it, held in place by a garter. Popular colours were red, scarlet, sky blue, brown, black, white, or grey. White stockings were worn at royal weddings.

The Greatcoat, aka Surtout or Cape Coat was a voluminous, knee length overcoat with a flared skirt, and a vent at the back necessary for riding a horse. A small collar, above a wide, flat one, could be pulled up over the ears to keep them warm. The greatcoat was often unfastened from the waist down. They were made from cloth, oilcloth, duffle, frieze, and other materials, and were fully or partially lined

Cloaks were full and gathered at the neck and fastened by a clasp beneath the chin. Sometimes they were worn over the shoulder.

Extract from W. Winthrop of Boston written to his brother in 1706. I desire you to bring me a very good camlet cloak lyined (sic) with what you like except blew (sic). It may be purple or red or striped with those, or another colour (sic), if so worn.

Footwear. According to research shoes with square toes and high square heels were made from black leather, but it is worth noting beaux wore shoes with red heels. Metal buckles were small, square, or oblong. Gold and silver ones were studded with diamonds. Thin, flexible pumps, some made from Spanish leather, had low heels, and were fastened with buckles. Slippers were worn indoors, For riding, hunting, and travelling, and for the military, Jackboots made of heavy black leather reached above the knees. Light Jackboots were shaped close to the leg but had a U-shape at the back to make it easy for the wearer to bend his knees. Half Jackboots were tight fitted to below the knees. They had cuffs in light coloured soft leather turned down over the tops.

 

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