Category: Guest

Guest posts

Guest Blogger Alyssa Maxwell

Updated on June 30, 2014 by Amanda McCabe/Laurel McKee

First things first–winners!!! The winner of a copy of my book Lady Midnight is…HJ!!!! Email me your info at amccabe7551 AT yahoo and I will get it sent out to you…

Today I am buried in some revisions, but Alyssa Maxwell, the author of the fabulous new “Gilded Newport” mystery series, has graciously agreed to do a guest blog for us! I read Murder at the Breakers and loved it. Comment for a chance to win a signed copy, or an ARC of the next in the series Murder at Marble House…

She Could Not/Would Not Do THAT!

How many times have you heard this in terms of historical heroines? That for a historical heroine to be believable, she must adhere to the social standards of her times and refrain from any activities that were not considered appropriate for a lady of her era.

To that I respectfully say, “Pish!”

The achievements of women throughout history have been pitifully under-reported and, as a result, sadly dismissed, and although we’re becoming more enlightened about the varied roles women actually did play through the centuries, notions of women not coming into their own until the latter half of the 20^th century persist.

When I was crafting my sleuth for my Gilded Newport Mysteries, I knew what was considered a “typical Victorian woman” wouldn’t do. To be a strong and compelling enough character to keep readers interested in not one but multiple books, she needed to be smart, resourceful, forward-thinking, and unafraid to step out of the traditional roles of the times.

But would she be an anachronism? A look at the 1890s supported my theory that not all women existed in a gilded cage. The Suffragette Movement was gathering steam, as was the concept of what was being hailed then as the “New Woman.”

According to author Jean Matthews in The Rise of the New Woman: The Women’s Movement in America, 1875-1930,the “new woman” was “young, well educated, probably a college graduate, independent of spirit, highly competent, and physically strong and fearless.” She spanned economic classes, and could be single or married. Often, she took an active interest in political issues.

Another name for the New Woman was The Gibson Girl, coined for artist Charles Dana Gibson, who in his sketches revealed and then actually perpetuated the changing appearance of women in the 1890s. They shed their restraining corsets, petticoats and frills in favor of simple shirtwaist blouses and long skirts that allowed for activities such as tennis and bike riding. Gibson Girls were confident, capable, athletic, and even flirtatious and again, they hailed from all segments of society.

For the character of Emma Cross, I drew on the real life Gilded Age journalist, Nellie Bly. At a time when most female reporters were relegated to the society columns, Bly stubbornly proved her mettle by seeking out hard news. In 1887 she had herself committed to an insane asylum, an undercover assignment lasting 10 days, in order to investigate and bring attention to the appalling conditions suffered by mental patients. In 1888, Bly traveled alone around the world in under 73 days, beating the fictional record of Jules Verne’s Phileas Fogg in AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS.

I wouldn’t, however, consider Nellie a true feminist—not when one of her lifelong ambitions was to marry a wealthy man, which she managed to do at the age of 31. Her wealthy guy was millionaire manufacturer Robert Seaman, who was 40 years her senior.

Like Nellie, I don’t see Emma Cross in feminist terms, either. She simply isn’t political enough. She doesn’t take up broad causes with activism, because she’s too busy taking care of loved ones and taking in women in need in Newport. Rather than being a feminist, Emma is an individual who recognizes her own potential, appreciates the resources that have given her a good measure of independence, and will not accept a pat on the head in lieu of professional opportunities she has worked hard to earn.

You can “see” Emma in action in Murder at The Breakers (available now), and in Murder at Marble House (releases in September), and judge for yourself—anachronistic, or one of the many women throughout history who stood out because they stood up for what they believed in.

You can find out more about my Gilded Newport Mysteries at http://alyssamaxwell.com. I love to hear from readers, so while you’re there drop me a line!

Posted in Giveaways, Guest, History, Winners announced | 27 Replies

Dining with Victorian Journalists

Updated on June 11, 2014 by Sandra Schwab

Punch Dinner in 1895

An important aspect of Allan’s Miscellany, the fictional magazine in my new series, is the weekly staff dinner on Wednesday nights. The dinner will be first mentioned in the second volume, where (unlike in The Bride Prize) the staff of Allan’s actually consists of more than two people. This is the relevant snippet:

In the courtyard of Allan and Sons, the lanterns had already been lit Jack saw, as he strode towards the stars that led to the open upper gallery. When he pushed open the door at the end of the short passage, warm, mellow light spilled from the room, and Jack was greeted by the sounds of male voices and laughter.

This was ‘the Den,’ the editorial office of Allan’s Miscellany, whereat the large table dominating the room, a magazine was fashioned week after week, where flame-haired William MacNeil ruled his crew of writers and artists with an iron fist. It was here that the staff assembled on Wednesday nights to discuss the next issue over an opulent dinner sponsored by their publisher. After all, Uncle Allan had argued, Fraser’s had a dinner and Punch had a weekly dinner, too — and what was good enough for them was certainly good enough for Allan’s!

As you can see from this snippet, not just my inner history geek, but also my ~~somewhat obsessive~~ love for Punch are coming to the fore again. The aspect of community is something I find extremely fascinating about the history of nineteenth-century periodicals in general and the history of Punch in particular. Community was as important to Victorian writers as it is to writers today — or perhaps even more so: in some cases the very survival of a writer / artist and his family depended on the charity of his colleagues. Dickens, for example, often organised amateur theatricals for the benefit of a colleague or his family.

But also in their normal everyday lives and their work, community and personal relationships were important to the journalists of the time. One editor had the habit of leafing through rivaling periodicals, and whenever he saw a negative review of a friend’s book or a negative article about a friend, he would immediately insert a passionate rebuttal into his own magazine. Dickens broke with Bradbury & Evans, his publishers, because Punch (also published by Bradbury & Evans) had refused to print his open letter to the public, in which Dickens explained the reasons for his separation from his wife.

For some magazines, the communal factor became relevant even when producing the magazine: as mentioned in the snippet above, the inner staff of Punch met for weekly dinners (on Wednesday nights, of course *g*), where they discussed the topic and motif for the next issue’s large cut, the central one-page political cartoon. The Punch dinners were legendary; in a way, they were one of the most exclusive gentlemen’s clubs in London: you could only attend upon invitation from the editor.

Below you can see an idealized depiction of the Punch Table from the 1890s, with Francis Burnand (editor from 1880-1890) on the left, making the toast of the evening. To his right sits Sir John Tenniel, who illustrated Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland books and had become a member of the staff of Punch in 1850. Dominating the background is a sculpture of Mr. Punch himself, and on the walls you can see portraits and busts of late staff members (e.g., the portrait of Mark Lemon, the first editor, is on the left; the bust on the left is Thackeray and the bust on the right is John Leech, the artist).

Punch Table 1891

In my series, I use the weekly dinners to introduce readers to the staff of Allan’s, to depict the sense of community that binds these men together, and to show the development of the magazine: as the magazine grows in importance, so do the numbers of writers and artists. The dinners are also a great opportunity for me to plant Easter eggs and running jokes like Matthew Clark’s whoopee cushion. The following is another snippet from Falling for a Scoundrel, the second volume in the series (aka the WIP I was supposed to finish by the end of May *cue in manic laughter*)

“Jack! There you are!” Matthew Clark — theatre and literature — shouted. “You won’t believe what I’ve found in that curiosity shop I told you about!”

Behind him Lawrence Pelham, comic artist, emphatically shook his head. Do not ask! he voiced silently.

“It’s the most splendid thing!”

Gervase Carlton, who covered general news as Mr. Copperwit, smirked. “Knowing our Matt, I say he’ll inflict that thing upon us for years to come.”

“Thing?” Jack echoed, his brows raised. Having shed his heavy coat, he sank down onto his chair — which bleated like a dying goat.

Jack jerked upright, his hand on the knife he carried hidden at his side.

Matt grinned delightedly. “See? You’ve found it! It’s a whoopee cushion. Isn’t it the most splendid thing?”

Taking a deep breath, Jack let his hand fall to his side and reminded himself that his colleague couldn’t possibly know how close his precious new whoopee cushion had come to being separated from its whoopee forevermore.

~ Sandy

Posted in Guest, History, Research | Tagged history geek, Punch, Sandra Schwab | Leave a reply

The LoveLetter Convention 2014

Updated on May 28, 2014 by Sandra Schwab

I’m back! Carolyn has kindly invited me to do a guest post at the Riskies every other Wednesday, so here I am. 🙂

Last week it was time again to pack my bags and to take the train to Berlin for the LoveLetter Convention 2014. The LLC is RT’s smaller German sister —minus the costume parties and the cover models. It is organised by the only German romance magazine, the LoveLetter, and is attended by both German and international authors, by people from the publishing industry, and by readers. Lots and lots and lots of readers! Indeed, this year the convention has grown from 500 visitors to 700 visitors, and the conference office nearly overflowed with the umpteen boxes full of conference bags.

As always, readers could decide to attend workshops or games or meet & greet events or one of the panel discussions (moderated by yours truly). My favorite panel this year was “New German Authors,” which introduced authors who attended the conference for the very first time to the audience. There was also a book signing on Sunday afternoon, which brought back fond memories of the RWA signings I attended in the past. 🙂

In contrast to 2011 and 2012 when the conference took place in one of the suburbs of Berlin, this year we were at the Prenzlauer Berg, right smack in the middle of the city. It’s such a wonderful, quirky quarter, with many small cafés, restaurants, and small shops. And did I mention the ice cream? In Berlin you’re never far from an ice cream vendor —and they all have fantastic ice cream!!!

As in the years before I took my sketchbook. Thanks to the fact that I’m normally moderating all the panel discussions, I don’t have much time for sketching during the conference, but I always manage to squeeze in a few leisurely walks around the neighborhood beforehand. This time I even managed to dash into the Pergamon Museum, which has truly breathtaking exhibits from classical antiquity, Babylon, and Assyria.

I spent four hours sketching various different exhibits and managed to miss about half of the museum. But to make up for that I was asked twice whether I sell my sketches. (Wow!) If you’d like to see more of my Berlin sketches: in the next few days I’ll add all of them to this album on Flickr.

Posted in Guest | Tagged Conferences, Sandra Schwab | 8 Replies

Cara Elliott Guest Post!

Updated on May 28, 2014 by Amanda McCabe/Laurel McKee

It’s Tuesday, and Amanda has a deadline coming up in–gasp!–two weeks! In desperation, she turned to her friend Andrea Pickens aka Cara Elliott (who has some very exciting re-issues out) to fill in….

Hi Everyone,
Andrea Pickens here, (that is, Cara Elliott slipping back into her OTHER Regency gown. It’s been hanging in the armoire for a while, but my lady’s maid has freshened up the lace and flounces, so I am ready to take a new twirl on the ballroom floor.) Amanda’s dueling with a looming deadline, so I volunteered to take a shot at today’s post . ..
I confess that my aim is not entirely altruistic. Pistols At Dawn, my new, never-before-published traditional Regency is making its debut as an e-book on all the major platforms on June 2, so of course, I’d love to trigger your interest. (Okay, okay, enough with the gun references, but a pistol does figure prominently in the opening scene.)

A metallic click caused Marcus Fitzherbert Greeley, the seventh Earl of Killingworth to look up from his ledgers.

“Who’s there?” he called sharply.

No answer sounded in reply, but after a moment the draperies stirred and a dark shape emerged from the midnight shadows. As the cloaked figure approached his desk, candlelight glinted off the steel of an ancient pistol.

“Stand up,” came the curt command.

The case clock ticked off a second or two before the earl put down his pen and rose.

“Take off your coat.”

He didn’t move, save for a slight twitch of his raven brows.

“You think a mere female incapable of pulling the trigger? I assure you, I should like nothing better, if you give me the slightest provocation.” The young lady—for her speech, if not her actions, indicated that she was indeed a lady—stepped closer. “And in case you are wondering, I am accorded to be a decent shot.”

I started my writing career Signet, which, as most of you know, published a special line of traditional Regency romances. I did ten books for them, during which time I learned an amazing amount of stuff, both about the craft of writing and the intricate nuances of the era. (And also met some of my best friends to this day, including Amanda!)

Like many Signet authors, I got the rights back to those early books and the process of getting them re-edited and formatted for self-publishing, made me think a lot about the “trad” Regency form and what I loved about it. For one, it’s a shorter length, usually 60-70,000 words rather than the 85-95,000 of mass market historical, and with fewer words to play with, an author has to really concentrate on developing the character arc—what’s the core conflict that is keeping the hero and heroine apart, and how do they grow and change in order to resolve it? Plot is of course important, but at heart, it’s the main characters who must stay in clear focus.

But what I also loved about the “rules” of the trad was that you really had to know your facts about the Regency. Want to write about pistols? Well, you had better research the details, and get them right, as core readers expected a high level of expertise. Since I love arcane facts about history, that part of writing was always great fun. So, when I found an old, unfinished manuscript for a trad Regency in my desk drawer, I decided to go back to my roots and finish it.

Things have gotten looser these days in Regency historical. Many authors don’t feel compelled to be quite as “authentic” as in the trads. The stories are still wonderful, they are just . . . different. In sitting down to finish Pistols At Dawn, I really enjoyed the fact that I had to rein in certain urges, and work within tighter constraints. I found myself dusting off old research books to do some background reading. Take, for examples, pistols. Now, most of us have heard of Joseph Manton but did you known the most famous gunmaker of the late Georgian/early Regency era was Robert Wogdon? (He made the weapons used in the infamous Aaron Burr-Alexander Hamilton duel, and one of the innovations that he helped pioneer was the hair—or “set”—trigger.) Indeed, in England his name became so synonymous with dueling that dawn encounter was sometimes referred to as a “Wogdon affair.”

Now pistols actually play a very small role in my new book, but no matter—the enjoyment of reading and researching about the subject was well worth the hours spent. (Another fun fact—smoothbore weapons were considered more sporting for dueling . . . but even Manton was said to have “cheated” a little by adding rifling deep within the barrel for greater accuracy, but leaving the last few inches smooth, so it looked like an unrifled pistol.)

I could, of course go on and on about all the other esoteric discoveries I’ve made concerning the world of the Regency, but I’d rather wrap up my visit here by firing a question at you—What’s one of the most fun or interesting facts you’ve learned while reading the Regency? It can be about fashion, music, art, people, everyday objects—anything! Please share. (I’ll be giving away an e-book edition of Pistols At Dawn to one person chosen at random from among those who leave a comment here between now and Thursday.)

Posted in Giveaways, Guest, Risky Regencies | 7 Replies

The Victims’ Ball: Urban Legend and Contest

Updated on May 15, 2014 by Janet Mullany

Today we welcome guest Elizabeth Cole, author of both historical and contemporary romance. Previously, she worked in bookshops, libraries, and archives…anywhere there were books to be read and cared for. Now she can be found hanging around museums, coffeeshops, and (occasionally) graveyards. In addition to her sweet Regency novellas, Elizabeth is currently writing the SECRETS OF THE ZODIAC, a series of romantic spy thrillers also set in the Regency period. Take it away, Elizabeth!

My newest novel, A Reckless Soul, is set in the Regency, just like the other books in the Secrets of the Zodiac series. Taking place in 1806, it’s the story of two determined spies—one British, one French—who must work together to defeat an enemy who threatens both of them.

When researching for the story, however, I had to go back a little further. My heroine is French, and she grew up in Paris during the tumultuous period following the French Revolution. It’s a fascinating time filled with not only real history but a lot of legend and propaganda, too. One of the most interesting urban legends was the “Victims’ Ball.” What’s that, you ask?

Maybe you remember this little ghost story: One night in Paris, a young man meets a beautiful woman in a graveyard. She looks sad, wearing a red ribbon around her neck. Of course, the young man falls in love with her instantly (he’s French, after all!). He begins to court her, and every night he falls deeper and deeper in love. There’s just one problem. She never takes off the red ribbon, and soon he’s obsessed with it. So one night, he catches the end of the ribbon, unties it, and OOPS! her head falls right off. Turns out, she was the ghost of a woman beheaded by the guillotine. How tragic! How very French!

I first read that story as a child, in a collection of gruesome tales. But the tale is linked to another urban legend, that of the Victims’ Ball. According to later historians, including Thomas Carlyle in his book, French Revolution, after the Terror ended, the French aristocracy reasserted itself. One of the ways they did was to form morbid dancing societies. To be invited, you had to be “victime” of the guillotine, which meant that you had to be a close relative of someone who had died by the blade. No family martyrdom? No invite. Talk about cliquish!

Once you had your invitation, you also had to dress properly. There was a very specific look that attendees of the bals des victimes aimed for. Women wore beautiful, filmy dresses trimmed with—you guessed it—red ribbons. Some dresses had the ribbons in a cross-back pattern over the shoulder blades. It was the sartorial equivalent of telling the executioner “x marks the spot”. And of course, ladies wore red ribbons around their necks! It was not uncommon to sport a haircut called à la victime, which was a style with a dark inspiration. Anyone with long hair had it chopped off before ascending the platform to be killed. You wouldn’t want the guillotine blade to get a lot of hair on it, of course. That’s messy and inefficient! Hence, the surprisingly modern-looking cut worn by the later imitators. I could see Miley Cyrus rocking this cut.

Now, these bals des victimes were ostensibly private, but the idea was too salacious to ignore, and reports of the balls were published in French and British newspapers. Later scholars have found little evidence for the balls, and the current conclusion it that the “Victims’ Balls” were either made up, or perhaps happened once or twice and were gossiped about a lot more than they actually happened. It seems possible some of the reports (especially in Britain) were published just to make the French look crazy and decadent…and to sell more papers. It was basically an early 19th century version of clickbait.

Since I’m a writer of fiction, I had no problem including a reenactment of the Victims’ Ball in A Reckless Soul. Whether the history of these dances is 100% accurate I couldn’t say…but the dramatic potential of such a scene is just too good to pass up. And besides, even the strangest stories often have some basis in fact…

What do you think? Do you believe such a trend could have existed in the 1790s? Have you read about this elsewhere? Would you have gone if you were allowed in? And by far the most important question…what would you want to wear?

Enter the contest to win a digital copy of A Heartless Design, the debut novel in the Secrets of the Zodiac series–see below on how to enter. The winner will be announced Saturday morning.