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I wish I knew… how does anyone start a new book? I know some writers swear by creating collages. Jennifer Crusie wrote this article about it, and I was inspired to start one last weekend but then didn’t have the time to hit the dollar store or the thrift store. But I did mess around online a bit. So here, for what it’s worth, is the embryonic creative process for a book that may or may not be called The Story of Miss O.

My off-the-top of my head, clunky notes are in italics:


Winter late afternoon, puddles icing over. Late January. Road between trees, gray, dun landscape. Ruts in road, mud, ice. Light fading.

It’s very difficult to find landscapes of bad weather–might have something to do with the fact that Constable et al only liked to be outdoors in the summer, and who can blame them. Similarly it’s quite difficult to find an image of ordinary gloomy winter weather rather than the picturesque. I don’t think there’s snow on the ground, but there may well be a frost setting in. So something like this, but with less snow, is good. I like the light in this pic.


Hero is in dogcart, trap (note to self: research vehicle or make it up, guess which I’ll pick). He’s come from London for the reading of a will, and at the moment I believe he’s the lawyer, the youngest son of an aristocratic family.

And he looks like, or something like, this gent (courtesy of Elizabeth Vigee-Lebrun, purely because there’s a huge stash of portraits all in one place). The portrait is of a Russian aristocrat (equal opportunity casting). He is nameless at the moment.


As the trap is about to make a turn at a crossroads, a woman approaches. Yes! It’s the heroine, wearing a horrible assortment of drab clothes (she’s in mourning and has dyed something black). As she lifts her skirt to avoid a puddle she reveals a grubby petticoat and a gray woollen stocking collapsing over the top of one boot. So she’s much the same color as the landscape, except for her hair, chopped short, and red gold.

And here she is, cleaned up (very cleaned up–Russian royalty). Her name is probably something like Iphigenia, Cassandra, Constance, Sophronia (did I make that last one up?), Theodosia, Theodora.

Finally, a poem I remembered, and which is of relevance to the heroine (The Ruined Maid by Thomas Hardy), because technically she’s ruined, and therefore able to make some, ah, interesting choices when she inherits some money. Here’s an overall image for the book (i.e., what I’d like to have on the cover in an ideal universe):


“I wish I had feathers, a fine sweeping gown,
And a delicate face, and could strut about Town!”
“My dear a raw country girl, such as you be,
Cannot quite expect that. You ain’t ruined,” said she.

So where do I get my ideas? Well, actually, there’s this website… Where do you get your ideas?

Janet

Posted in Writing | Tagged | 6 Replies

Belatedly taking up Cara’s challenge to read a traditional Regency, I picked one up a few weeks ago. It was classic traditional romp, a nice “bon-bon” of a book. I really did enjoy it. Only one thing niggled.

Several times in the book it’s stated that it was extremely improper, maybe even scandalous, for pregnant women to be seen in public. Not true!

I know, because I’ve researched this subject for articles and workshops as well as my works-in-progress. Being a Regency Research Nerd is a problem sometimes!

Of course, I’m not the sort to toss a book over things like this. In fact, it scares me to think there are people out there who would, because who knows what mistakes I’ve made unknowingly, just assuming that something I’d read myself in many other authors’ work was correct? OTOH it also scares me (yes, I admit I’m a bit neurotic) that readers are going to complain that I’ve gotten things wrong.

This is what authors notes–and blogs–are for.

Here are a couples of the most common errors I’ve seen in historical romances that deal with childbearing (more next week):

#1: Respectable women did not appear in public while pregnant.

During the Regency and even into early Victorian times, women sometimes stayed in due to health reasons. Or even used ill-health as an excuse to avoid activities they didn’t want to do anyway! But there was no shame about being in public at this time. There’s lots of evidence that many ladies continued an active social life, going to parties, the opera, and even travelling while pregnant.

    • In 1805, Frances, Lady Churchill attended parties in her last trimester of pregnancy. She went to the opera on June 11, and gave birth on June 28.

 

  • During the last trimester of her first pregnancy in 1810, Harriet, Lady Granville, and her husband visited the country seats of his family members in Staffordshire, Gloucestershire and Cheshire.

 

 

  • Queen Victoria (pictured above) welcomed Lady Charlotte Guest, who was 6 months pregnant, to a ball at the palace in 1840. Queen Victoria was pregnant herself.

 

 

Later in history, especially in America, ladies did hide away once they were visibly pregnant. In fact some ladies tightly laced their corsets in an attempt to disguise pregnancy so they could continue normal lives as long as possible. Ugh!

#2: Babies were always delivered by doctors. – OR – Babies were always delivered by midwives.

During the Regency both midwives and male doctors (those specializing in obstetrics were called man-midwives or accoucheurs) delivered babies. Man-midwives rose in popularity during the 18th century.

The picture here depicts the conflict between the new and old ways of doing things. Many thought it was unmanly, immoral and improper for men to deliver babies, but it was the new “scientific” thing. And male practitioners were trained (more or less!) in the use of forceps, while most female midwives were not, so they were theoretically better prepared to deal with problematic deliveries.

Looking at an obstetric kit c. 1820, though, I can’t help but shudder.

By the Regency, most women of the upper classes used an accoucheur while midwives continued to deliver babies for the working class and the poor. So either could work in a story, depending on the setup and the characters.

Next week, I’ll deal with a couple more common misconceptions about childbearing in the past.

For anyone who is not too squeamish, and who finds this subject even half as interesting as I do, there’s a fascinating (if sometimes gruesome) collect of artifacts to view at Accoucheur’s Antique. There’s also some information and a bibliography on my website.

Elena, Regency Research Nerd 🙂
LADY DEARING’S MASQUERADE, RT Reviewers’ Choice Award Nominee
www.elenagreene.com

My only real hobby — besides reading books, buying books, going to libraries, buying more books, wishing I had time to read them, trying to find room to store all my books (all of which is not a hobby, after all, but an obsession, or, if I stretch things a bit, a part of my career and therefore all of it quite necessary) — sorry, where was I? Oh yes . . .

As I was saying (or trying to say, before my book habit got in the way, as it always does) — as I was saying, my only real hobby is acting. I particularly love Shakespeare. At the moment, my husband and I are in a production of Shakespeare’s comedy As You Like It at Caltech. I’m playing Celia, the Duke’s daughter who runs away to the Forest of Arden, and Todd plays Oliver, a villain who reforms and (coincidentally) falls in love with Celia.

Now that I have my lines memorized (and there are a lot of them — Celia is quite a nice role) — I can read John Philip Kemble’s version of the play and tell immediately which lines he cut, and which words he changed. Quite fun!

Kemble was in charge of the Theatre Royal Covent Garden before and during the Regency, and he was one of its top actors too. He was most respected as an actor when playing tragic roles, particularly noble Romans, but he also appeared in comedies. When he was young, he sometimes played Orlando — and when he got a bit older, he often played the melancholy Jaques (who has the famous speech “All the world’s a stage . . .”)

Mrs. Jordan, nowadays better known as the long-time mistress of the Duke of Clarence (one of King George III’s sons, who later became King William IV) and the mother of many of his children, was the most popular comedic actress of the time. She frequently played Rosalind, but by the Regency proper was too old — and too large — to play a young lady who disguised herself as a boy.

Then again, if you look at the engraving here by Bunbury, you will see that even when she was young, the lovely Mrs. Jordan did not possess what we would call a “boyish figure.” Indeed, one can tell from the way the artist drew her that seeing her curvaceous figure in men’s revealing clothing was something that the men found quite pleasing…and so few of the men would have likely complained that the delicious Rosalind would never have passed for a boy with that shape…

Next week, I’ll talk about Kemble’s version of the play — and which lines were too naughty (and which weren’t) for Regency audiences . . .

Cara
Cara King, www.caraking.com
MY LADY GAMESTER — out now from Signet Regency!!!

Posted in Regency, Research | Tagged , | 7 Replies
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