I approach writing my weekly Risky Regencies posts as I do my fiction writing: I let my mind wander and seize on something that seems like it might go somewhere. Usually, it works, at least enough for me to get something tapped out on the keyboard.
But today? I am Tapped Out. I officially have NO IDEAS for this post. Which means, unfortunately for you all, I’ll have to let my mind wander as I type, not just show the finished product.
Yesterday, my son, my father and I went to the Bronx Zoo, which is truly spectacular. It made me think about what zoos were like in the Regency–pretty pathetic things, I think, and I am pretty sure they were called “menageries,” not zoos, and can you imagine how poorly the animals were treated? Horses were treated well, they had to carry the Men on their Important Hunting Expeditions, after all, but other animals did not get very good treatment. No wonder our heroines always befriend cats and dogs and the like.
I was also thinking about what made a plot good–sure, there’s that catch in the throat when you’re not quite sure the author is going to live up to the expectations of a romance, and are they really going to get together, because sheesh, it sure seems like there’s no way they can get out of this mess, not without a lot of deus ex machina. And when they do, you’re almost pathetically grateful to the author for making us breathe easier. Mary Balogh is the queen of this, and she makes my heart stop almost every time I read one of her books. Who does that for you?
And the weather–our heroes and heroines did not have the benefit of central air, heat, or Polartec fabric. It’s gorgeous here on the East Coast now, and the crocuses are starting to spring up and the weather will be in the 70s today, and it fills one (meaning me) with a feeling of enthusiasm and joy. I wonder if our heroes and heroines felt the same, only moreso, because they were confined inside their drafty houses? Or did they combat their winter lassitude by doing all sorts of outdoorsy things that put a sparkle in their eyes and a healthy pink blush in their cheeks? Did they even talk about seasonal depression?
Now, here’s the class participation part: When your mind wanders, what does it wonder about? What authors make your breath catch in your throat? And is it Spring where you live? If so, what’s the part you like the best about Spring?
Megan
www.meganframpton.com
Carla Kelly can tear my heart out. And Alicia Rasley can certainly make the emotions work. And Sheila Simonson.
As for spring, I love the sunshine.
Cara
Help. My mind is wandering all over the make-up of regency menageries and of Astley’s Amptheatre. But I have to go do crazy-Friday-drive-my-kids-all-over-town stuff. I’ll come back tonight after I’ve had a chance to let everything settle.
In the meantime–interesting to note that what we think of as being “exotic” is really a Regency representation of what they thought the Romans exhibited in the Ampitheatre. Mostly large African animals. Lots of giraffes and elephants–not to many pandas.
If you look at a nursery Noah’s Ark set, you’re basically looking at the same 8-10 animals from a circus, a “classic” zoo, a menagerie, etc. For all the animals in the world, it’s interesting that exhibits come back to those few. Blame it on Astley, I suppose.
Julia Ross has, on more than one occasion, made me wonder how on earth her h/h would EVER be together at the end of the book. So has Jo Beverly. And I heartily agree about Mary Balogh. A particular favorite in that vein is SILENT MELODY. Turns me into a watering pot every time. *sniff*
When I let my mind wander, as I am doing right now, it is wont to witter on to witless wild wastes of alliteration–not to mention to idle speculations about menageries, and how the animals were treated, and at what point–poor benighted savages that we are!–we realize that as we stare in at the animals, they are staring out at us; and in short, that in this great Ship known as the Universe, we are but Passengers in Steerage, hoping against hope that we might one day accumulate enough frequent flier (or rather sailor) miles to get an upgrade to third class with more than a lousy glass of Coke, half filled with ice, and a packet of peanuts and chex mix to see us through, and at last, as this sentence seems destined to go on forever and never arrive anywhere (by ship or any other means), to run screaming into the night, AAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!
Todd-who-needs-to-lie-down-now
My mind tends to wander in bad directions. I get obsessed with whatever thing in my life isn’t going the way I’d like it to (usually the writing or the parenting) and I can really go round in circles worrying. I wonder if there’s a way to get my mind to do some fun creative noodling instead.
Which authors tear my heart out–I’m afraid to leave some out so I’ll just say my favorite: Laura Kinsale.
As for spring, I love going out without layers and layers of clothing, and seeing my crocuses and daffs finally coming up.
Elena
You really don’t want to know where my mind wanders these days as I’m writing erotic romance. As for the heartstopping issue, Judith Ivory, if we’re sticking to romance writers only.
Spring–the slow unfolding of it all, with new things happening every day, and warm days alternating with cold ones to bring that about. It’s particularly beautiful in Maryland, and that compensates for the sheer awfulness of the summers and the blahness of winter and fall.
Janet