Happy Birthday to Two Grande Dames

When readers think of Regency-set romances, they often think of two writers: Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer. Today, the Incomparable Georgette would have been 117 years old. She published her first book when she was 19 to much success. She went on to publish two dozen Regency romances, as well as a dozen detective novels and other historical novels. Two things I found amusing when I went looking for biographical information is that 1) copycats infuriated her and 2) she decided after her initial success that she didn’t need to court publicity. Her refusal to be interviewed never hurt. Her books are still widely read and praised to this day.

Today is also the birthday of a woman who had a profound impact on my life: my grandmother, Ruby Harris. She would have been 108. She grew up during the flapper era—I still have one of her dresses. When I was in high school, I had an assignment to interview someone who had lived through the Depression. I asked my grandmother. She immediately agreed, then asked, “When was that again?” Lest you think she was forgetful, she lived until she was 93, sharp and sassy. She wasn’t sure about the date of the Depression because it didn’t impact her much. She and her father had a job with the state of Washington, and her mother ran their family farm. My grandmother literally danced her way through those difficult times, attending balls at the local grange two to three times a week. That’s where she met my grandfather. Small wonder he was attracted to her. She was practical, wise, and witty, with a smile that made you smile back. As my mother likes to say, she could strike up a conversation with a rock.

When I was ten, she was in a horrible car accident left her crippled for the rest of her life. She credited her ability to learn to walk again to my father. We had a circular floor plan, and he would chase her from the living room through the kitchen and back yelling, “Come on, Ruby!” and clapping his hands. But I think it was her own indomitable spirit that allowed her to learn to walk again, to drive again, and to live her life on her own terms. Though she could no longer go dancing, she supported herself after her divorce in a time when women generally didn’t work outside the home. She took care of me and my brother when my mother taught school. She wrote letters for older people whose hands were shaking too much to allow them to correspond with loved ones. She also drove them to doctor appointments, until she voluntarily gave up her keys because she was afraid she couldn’t hit the brakes in time to stop if a child ran into the road. She was so proud of my writing, my books.

She was my hero, my inspiration. I still miss her.

Happy birthday, Grandma!

Nineteenth Century Wish List, 2017 Edition

Every year, I am delighted to see all the amazing gifts of interest to those who enjoy writing or reading about the nineteenth century. Here are some suggestions for this year.

Ah, there’s something about a library, whether private or public. Can’t get enough of the scent? Try a soy candle that smells like old books.

Sometimes it’s important to state a truth. The PendantLab has a lovely necklace that states "I was born with a reading list I will never finish." I'm sure you can relate.  

How about inspirational quotes to, well, inspire you? There’s this one from the inimitable Jane Austen.

Or this one from women’s rights activist Margaret Fuller 

And keeping track of the day has never been more stylish than in this lovely calendar with anime-style fashion illustrations from the Regency.

  

Of course, no wish list would be complete without some books! The Servant's Story looks particularly interesting, detailing behind-the-scenes life with the Dukes of Sutherland.

And the marvelous Mimi Mathews has collected some delightful stories about animals during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. 

Christmas also means a new Regency-set Kurland St. Mary mystery by Catherine Lloyd (my personal Christmas treat). 

Anything you’re looking forward this year in Christmas gifts? If you’ve spotted something related to the nineteenth century, I’m sure the other readers of NineteenTeen would love to know!

My Mother's Book

I inherited my love of reading from my mother. A schoolteacher by trade, she encouraged me to read from an early age, recommended books, and ultimately read the same books and exchanged thoughts with me. She’s the one who first introduced me to Regency romances, which became my passion. I had published several before she came to me, piece of scratch paper in hand.

“I have an idea for a Regency romance,” she explained. “It’s about a widow with three young sons who enters into a marriage of convenience with a man, then sets about improving his life and realizes she’s just might have married a gem.”

Now, people have approached me in the past, wanting me to write a story they’ve envisioned. Let me state plainly: I don’t do that. There are already so many stories running around in my head that adding another non-organic one could quite possibly make my brain explode. And it is very, very hard to do justice to a story that isn’t your own. So, knowing she was not only a huge fan of the genre but a well-educated, well-read woman, I suggested she write it herself.

She lowered her gaze. “Oh, I couldn’t.”

I encouraged her, but it was plain the idea of writing a book was simply daunting. I took the slip of paper from her, promising to think about it, and went on with my writing. A few months later, my editor called.

“We’d like you to write a novella for a collection,” he said. (I love it when editors call with that sort of suggestion.)

“Sure!” I said. “When do you need it?”

He named a date, which was very tight, but doable, if I could find the right idea. Then he said, “But it’s for a Mother’s Day-themed anthology [even though Mother’s Day was unknown in the Regency], and the heroine has to be a widow with children. Can you come up with an idea like that?”

“Yes,” I said with a smile. “I can.”

So, I wrote my mother’s story. It wasn’t easy. Every characterization, every scene, I kept wondering whether it would live up to her hopes. The book was published the following May, and I presented it to her on Mother’s Day. She cried.

And she loved the story.

I’m very happy to report that the novella I wrote for my mother, Sweeter Than Candy, has been released as part of The Marvelous Munroes series and is now available at fine online retailers. This is the first time it's been available outside an anthology.

Widowed Cynthia Jacobs will do anything to support her three young sons, left impoverished by their father’s sudden demise. Anything, that is, but marry one-time suitor Daniel Lewiston. Cynthia’s family and Daniel’s conspired to match them up years ago, but Cynthia struggled to see the shy boy next door as the dashing husband of her dreams.

Wealthy Daniel Lewiston always admired the beautiful Cynthia, even knowing she’d never settle for him. But when her sons beg him to court her so he can be their father, his heart melts and Cynthia reconsiders. Perhaps what starts as a marriage of convenience for the boys can turn into something more, something that is far sweeter than candy.

Smashwords
Amazon
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I hope you enjoy it as much as she did.

How to Feed a Starving Author: Send Her to a Science Fiction Convention

How do you feed your creativity? Soak in a bubble bath surrounded by scented candles? Listen to sweeping arias and the swelling music of an orchestra? Take long walks along the pebbled shore?

I go to science fiction conventions.

I’m not sure why, but hanging around with amazingly creative people, all sharing their love for a particular genre or show, just gets my juices flowing. This past weekend I had the privilege of attending Anglicon The Regeneration just south of Seattle, and I came back buzzing.

The original Anglicon was a media convention held yearly from 1988 to 2004. For the last 11 years, fans have lamented its loss. This year, thanks to a successful Kickstarter campaign, the Con not only ran for three days but earned back enough money to book the hotel for next year’s convention.

Anglicon The Regeneration largely drew fans of Dr. Who. I was impressed by the wide range of attendees, from eager scientists to avid writers and artists to adoring fans from children to grandparents. I went to several panels on such things as upcoming British science fiction and fantasy movies and series (most were too scary for my tastes), cosplay on a budget (my budget proved a lot smaller than the panelists’ when it comes to purchasing items for costumes), and how to publish a book on Kickstarter (intriguing concept, but I’m not ready). I listened to Colin Baker, the sixth doctor, reminisce about his time on the show (charming man with an excellent sense of comedic timing). I tasted British soda pop for the first time (much stronger than our soda—took me two days to stop feeling the effects of the ginger beer, and the cream soda was like drinking vanilla frosting).

My two favorite parts of the Con were the conversations with interesting people and the costumes. One dapper vendor asked me to name the five historical people I’d invite to a dinner party (Lord Byron, Angelica Kauffman, Caroline Herschel, Ezra Meeker, and my great-grandmother on my father’s side) as well as five book characters I’d invite [Taran Wanderer from Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain series, Uncas from James Fenimore Cooper’s Last of the Mohicans, Lord Peter Wimsey from Dorothy Sayers’s mystery series, Boromir from Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings (and not just because the swoon-worthy Sean Bean played him in the movie), and Tom Riddle from J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series (although without his nasty powers)].

 

And then there were the costumes. My word, but some people know how to put together an outfit! I had attempted to dress like the tenth doctor, with brown pin-striped suit, blue shirt, red sneakers and suitably spikey hair. Epic fa

il. There were people dressed so faithfully like the fourth, sixth, tenth, and eleventh doctors that you might have thought you were meeting him in person! And my hat’s off to those who can create a replica Dalek that could move, swivel, and speak authentically. (At least, I think it was a replica—I wasn’t exterminated!)

All in all, I came back tired but exhilarated, and ready to apply my own creativity to what I like best: writing romantic books that encourage and entertain. More on that next week. J

*All photos courtesy of Isabella Hurd.