My love affair with the historical western started when I was about 8 or 9 and my dad began reading me the “Little House on the Prairie” books. I was obsessed with watching the TV show when I got home from school and Dad wanted to share with me the stories that inspired the show. In junior high school my love affair with the western continued with the short lived TV series “The Young Riders”, about the Pony Express, featuring some real life people like Jimmy “Wild Bill” Hickock and William “Buffalo Bill” Cody. My 13 year old self wanted nothing more than to have one of these dashing riders come to my rescue. In fact, my first ever historical western story was based off the show (I was writing fan fiction before I even knew what it was!). Other shows like “The Magnificent Seven” and “Deadwood” soon followed and further fueled my love of this time period. Oddly enough I don’t enjoy most movie westerns.
When I started reading romances in my late teens, I was drawn to the historicals and mostly drawn to the westerns. The truly wonderful authors who write this genre took me to a time and a place that I’d loved since I was a child. When I decided to take my love of writing and pursue being published, a historical western romance was my first project.
So why the historical west? My simple answer is: variety. The historical west was a vast place, there are stories written from the Canadian Yukon to the Mexican border, from the plains of Minnesota to the coasts of Oregon and everywhere in between. It was a time of change and exploration in our country’s history. The time period is just as vast as the places, from before the Civil War, to during that conflict to afterward through the turn of the century and even beyond.
Then there are the story arcs. Of course historical westerns have their clichés just like any other genre, but for me it’s much harder to happen upon the same story arc over and over in westerns than with other genres. The types of characters and conflicts within a historical western are as vast as the time period and setting. People of all faiths, races and economic status headed out to settle the west. One couldn’t venture into this place during this time and be a wimp. The heroines were already strong or came to find a strength they didn’t know they possessed, often out of pure necessity to survive. The heros were rugged, tough and mostly lived by their own rules in a place where law was practically non-existent. The couples that came together could have been different as night and day and yet managed to find true love despite all the odds.
I love doing research and I love being able to experience a place first hand. My family’s travels when I was younger seemed to center on road trips through my native Minnesota, into South Dakota, Wyoming and Montana. I’ve been to Register Rock in Idaho and stood in the spot where Jack McCall shot Wild Bill Hickock. I’ve stood at the Little Big Horn Battlefield and at the place Laura Ingalls once called home. These experiences have helped to fuel my love for this time period even more.
I’d love to know what others think of historical western romances. Do you read them? Who are some of your favorite authors? What other time periods do you enjoy reading and can you give me any recommendations?
Among my favorite historical western romance authors are Linda Lael Miller, Sarah McCarty and Stacey Kane . As a whole I don’t really enjoy Regencies but perhaps you can suggest something that might change my mind? I have read a couple of medieval stories that have led me to think this might be a time period I’d love to explore more of. I also really enjoy time travel romance.
I’d like to take a moment to thank the Seduced By History blog who allowed those of us in the Hearts Through History RWA chapter who aren’t yet published the opportunity to blog here this month. So thank you!
Friday, September 11, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Living Next Door to Hitler
We've all heard the saying that if a child does not like an adult, pay attention. Their innocent minds have the ability to see through the layers of falsehood.
I have two friends, who, as children, were forced to gaze into Hitler's eyes. They did not like him.
Gerlinde was six years old when she was chosen to stand before Hitler and Goebbels in front of a throng of thousands waving their little swastika flags. Daughter of a high-ranking official in their Bavarian town, she'd been chosen for her perfect blonde hair, blue eyed Aryan looks to present Hitler with a bouquet of flowers. When Hitler bent to her level to accept them, he had a serene smile on his face and gave her a gentle pat on the top of her curly little head. She looked into his eyes, not four inches from hers. Although her child's mind could not translate the look in them as insane, she inwardly cringed.
"I do not like that man," she later told her father. Not many months passed before her father realized Hitler was mad and agreed. They fled. But not far enough.
My other friend, Gunda, was also six years old when she was forced to look into Hitler's eyes. Her father was a top ranking official, Rudolf Hess's best friend, and his personal astrologer. They had realized before the war even started that Hitler was mad. Gunda remembers the clandestine meetings between her father and Hess in her family's kitchen. They poured over astrological charts spread atop the table, deciding the right time to secret Jews out of the country, and when the right time would be for Hess to make his move.
Hess flew into Scotland with the intention of informing England of Hitler's invasion plans. Meanwhile, Gunda's father used his astrological charts to steer Hitler off course. Hess spent the rest of his life in prison while Gunda's father, his treason against Hitler discovered, was thrown into a German concentration camp for two years and then placed under house arrest until rescued by the Allied Command.
With her father gone, Gunda, her mother and brother, were sent to live in a house next door to Hitler's headquarters in Munich, so he could "keep an eye on them." They were, in fact, political prisoners. Hitler would wander into their residence at will, lean down to Gunda's eye level, pat her on her blonde curls, smile, and present her with candy. She did not like him. Not one bit. At age seven she and her brother were sent into the Alps to live out the war with her maternal grandparents. Her mother remained a political prisoner.
Gunda later learned that astrology was not all Hitler was attracted to with regard to the esoteric world. He chose his speeches carefully and dramatically, knowing that ceremony and tradition binds people, one to the other. That is why in documentaries you see so many newsreels with long parades and huge crowds of people gathered before him.
And in these documentaries, have you noticed that every man, woman and child in the crowd waves a little red flag with a black swastika emblazoned on it, while a huge version hangs behind the dais?
Hitler knew what he was doing. He bound the crowd together and to him to the ceremony. The flags of the people were given to wave were full of symbolism, right down to the colors the Nazi party chose. Metaphysically speaking, everything has its opposite-for day there is night, for black there is white. Esoterically, the color red signals power. But red also signals fear (which is why Satan was traditionally depicted in red - to instill fear), and so the red in the Nazi flag had a dual purpose: it subconsciously signaled empowerment directed toward Hitler and his regime, while subconsciously inflicting fear as a means of control. Black also has its dual purpose which was why the Swastika itself was black. People tend to fear the darkness, and fear is a great control mechanism. But the duality of black also is where the void is, where answers lie (why do Priests wear black if it is so evil? Native Americans revered the color black, believing that out of the void of nothingness came enlightenment). The black swastika was portrayed against a circle of white. White is the only color without duality. White represents purity.
Oh, and the swastika itself. What a shame Hitler took the most powerful spiritual symbol of the cross and desecrated it. But again, the party knew what it was doing. This "Whirling bird" symbol can be found in many cultures all over the world. Anthropologists have found evidence of it in Mesopotamia and in North America, on pottery and splashed across the walls of caves dating as far back as 4500 BC. Buddhists associate the Swastika with the Buddha. The symbol can be seen in their temples. Hindus associate it with the nine planetary gods (they still use it in wedding ceremonies). Did you know that up until Hitler's desecration of the swastika, it represented good luck in America?
Not only did the Nazi party adopt the swastika because of its long association with the Aryan race (the Aryan race was once made up of Persians, Iranians, Indians, Germans, and Pelasgians - so much for the blonde, blue-eyed Nordic appearance Hitler demanded), but the "wheels" or "arms" of the swastika have a particular meaning depending on which way they face. Turning counterclockwise, the flow of the swastika represents female energy, the energy of sitting down and negotiating without war. However, turthe arms the other way (clockwise) and they represent a male, aggressive action outward--war. Unfortunately, the swastika will most likely remain an enigma in the world. Its use is outlawed in Germany today.
Jews were not the first group of people Hitler chose to annihilate. He initially went after artists and musicians because these groups of people were the free thinkers who sat around in coffee houses purporting change. He also went after the esoteric crowd because their world was abuzz. They had figured out the earth-shaking symbols and realized Hitler was up to no good.
My husband, Hans, is German, born after the war. He tells me the story of when he entered first grade. His teacher told the class of Hitler's atrocities and informed these young children that all Germans must absorb the historical guilt of what Hitler did. Hans, stubborn and self-realized even back then, gathered his things and ran home. He told his parents what happened and said, "I did not know that guy Hitler, and I am not going to feel guilty because of what he did!" His parents, who suffered long years in prisons because of the war, agreed. The madman's name was never brought up again.
Note: This was written with permission from both women who live in the U.S. today. Gunda, the daughter of Rudolf Hess's astrologer (Hess was second in command under Hitler), has all of her father's secret papers that she has not yet made public, and intends to write a book. She wears a ring her father gave her, one made up of sacred stones (according to him) and with the stones cut and polished in a certain design of flat triangles and squares to represent her astrological sign. I had no idea what this ring meant until she told me. She said there is so much more that Hitler did in using the esoteric and turning it into dark occultism. Gunda is a wonderful and benevolent person, giving and loving. She said her traumatic early years living next door to Hitler taught her about the lessons of choice: we can use whatever we have either for good or for bad, depending on one's intention. Therefore, she makes a point to do nothing without first asking herself what her true intention is. And after her experience with Hitler, that intention is always meant to be for the good of all.
I have two friends, who, as children, were forced to gaze into Hitler's eyes. They did not like him.
Gerlinde was six years old when she was chosen to stand before Hitler and Goebbels in front of a throng of thousands waving their little swastika flags. Daughter of a high-ranking official in their Bavarian town, she'd been chosen for her perfect blonde hair, blue eyed Aryan looks to present Hitler with a bouquet of flowers. When Hitler bent to her level to accept them, he had a serene smile on his face and gave her a gentle pat on the top of her curly little head. She looked into his eyes, not four inches from hers. Although her child's mind could not translate the look in them as insane, she inwardly cringed.
"I do not like that man," she later told her father. Not many months passed before her father realized Hitler was mad and agreed. They fled. But not far enough.
My other friend, Gunda, was also six years old when she was forced to look into Hitler's eyes. Her father was a top ranking official, Rudolf Hess's best friend, and his personal astrologer. They had realized before the war even started that Hitler was mad. Gunda remembers the clandestine meetings between her father and Hess in her family's kitchen. They poured over astrological charts spread atop the table, deciding the right time to secret Jews out of the country, and when the right time would be for Hess to make his move.
Hess flew into Scotland with the intention of informing England of Hitler's invasion plans. Meanwhile, Gunda's father used his astrological charts to steer Hitler off course. Hess spent the rest of his life in prison while Gunda's father, his treason against Hitler discovered, was thrown into a German concentration camp for two years and then placed under house arrest until rescued by the Allied Command.
With her father gone, Gunda, her mother and brother, were sent to live in a house next door to Hitler's headquarters in Munich, so he could "keep an eye on them." They were, in fact, political prisoners. Hitler would wander into their residence at will, lean down to Gunda's eye level, pat her on her blonde curls, smile, and present her with candy. She did not like him. Not one bit. At age seven she and her brother were sent into the Alps to live out the war with her maternal grandparents. Her mother remained a political prisoner.
Gunda later learned that astrology was not all Hitler was attracted to with regard to the esoteric world. He chose his speeches carefully and dramatically, knowing that ceremony and tradition binds people, one to the other. That is why in documentaries you see so many newsreels with long parades and huge crowds of people gathered before him.
And in these documentaries, have you noticed that every man, woman and child in the crowd waves a little red flag with a black swastika emblazoned on it, while a huge version hangs behind the dais?
Hitler knew what he was doing. He bound the crowd together and to him to the ceremony. The flags of the people were given to wave were full of symbolism, right down to the colors the Nazi party chose. Metaphysically speaking, everything has its opposite-for day there is night, for black there is white. Esoterically, the color red signals power. But red also signals fear (which is why Satan was traditionally depicted in red - to instill fear), and so the red in the Nazi flag had a dual purpose: it subconsciously signaled empowerment directed toward Hitler and his regime, while subconsciously inflicting fear as a means of control. Black also has its dual purpose which was why the Swastika itself was black. People tend to fear the darkness, and fear is a great control mechanism. But the duality of black also is where the void is, where answers lie (why do Priests wear black if it is so evil? Native Americans revered the color black, believing that out of the void of nothingness came enlightenment). The black swastika was portrayed against a circle of white. White is the only color without duality. White represents purity.
Oh, and the swastika itself. What a shame Hitler took the most powerful spiritual symbol of the cross and desecrated it. But again, the party knew what it was doing. This "Whirling bird" symbol can be found in many cultures all over the world. Anthropologists have found evidence of it in Mesopotamia and in North America, on pottery and splashed across the walls of caves dating as far back as 4500 BC. Buddhists associate the Swastika with the Buddha. The symbol can be seen in their temples. Hindus associate it with the nine planetary gods (they still use it in wedding ceremonies). Did you know that up until Hitler's desecration of the swastika, it represented good luck in America?
Not only did the Nazi party adopt the swastika because of its long association with the Aryan race (the Aryan race was once made up of Persians, Iranians, Indians, Germans, and Pelasgians - so much for the blonde, blue-eyed Nordic appearance Hitler demanded), but the "wheels" or "arms" of the swastika have a particular meaning depending on which way they face. Turning counterclockwise, the flow of the swastika represents female energy, the energy of sitting down and negotiating without war. However, turthe arms the other way (clockwise) and they represent a male, aggressive action outward--war. Unfortunately, the swastika will most likely remain an enigma in the world. Its use is outlawed in Germany today.
Jews were not the first group of people Hitler chose to annihilate. He initially went after artists and musicians because these groups of people were the free thinkers who sat around in coffee houses purporting change. He also went after the esoteric crowd because their world was abuzz. They had figured out the earth-shaking symbols and realized Hitler was up to no good.
My husband, Hans, is German, born after the war. He tells me the story of when he entered first grade. His teacher told the class of Hitler's atrocities and informed these young children that all Germans must absorb the historical guilt of what Hitler did. Hans, stubborn and self-realized even back then, gathered his things and ran home. He told his parents what happened and said, "I did not know that guy Hitler, and I am not going to feel guilty because of what he did!" His parents, who suffered long years in prisons because of the war, agreed. The madman's name was never brought up again.
Note: This was written with permission from both women who live in the U.S. today. Gunda, the daughter of Rudolf Hess's astrologer (Hess was second in command under Hitler), has all of her father's secret papers that she has not yet made public, and intends to write a book. She wears a ring her father gave her, one made up of sacred stones (according to him) and with the stones cut and polished in a certain design of flat triangles and squares to represent her astrological sign. I had no idea what this ring meant until she told me. She said there is so much more that Hitler did in using the esoteric and turning it into dark occultism. Gunda is a wonderful and benevolent person, giving and loving. She said her traumatic early years living next door to Hitler taught her about the lessons of choice: we can use whatever we have either for good or for bad, depending on one's intention. Therefore, she makes a point to do nothing without first asking herself what her true intention is. And after her experience with Hitler, that intention is always meant to be for the good of all.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Something old, something new ….
I thought since this has been our year for weddings – both our sons married this year, I’d blog about weddings.
The standard wedding traditions are fairly well know. How true the background and reason for these customs, I leave up to you. The wedding ring symbolized eternity, as it has no end. The third finger of the left hand was chosen because of the belief that ancient physician thought that a vein ran from that finger to the heart. Why they thought this, or who specifically proposed this idea is lost in the midst of time.
The idea of the veil comes from the tradition of arranged marriages, where the groom doesn’t get to see the bride until after they are married. Or sometimes the veil thought to symbolize the bride’s virtue. The tradition of the white dress comes from Victorian England.
And of course, the traditional rhyme of something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue and a lucky sixpence (or penny) in her shoe.
For my (1969) wedding
Something old (a lace handkerchief from my grandmother)
Something new (the dress)
Something borrowed (must have been something, but it’s so long ago I don’t remember!)
Something blue (the new tradition of the blue garter)
A lucky sixpence in her shoe (a girlfriend bought me sixpence from England)
My March daughter-in-law:
Something old (her great grandmothers embroidered handkerchief)
Something new (the dress)
Something borrowed (a hairpin)
Something blue (engagement ring is blue sapphire)
A lucky sixpence in her shoe (a ha’penny)
My September daughter-in-law:
Something old (her mother’s garter)
Something new (her dress and jewelry)
Something borrowed (will borrow something on the day)
Something blue (her initials are sewn in blue in her dress)
A lucky sixpence in the shoe (a sixpence from her mom at the bridal shower)
As you might guess from all the similarities, that I’m very pleased with my sons for choosing such great gals.
Do you remember your something old, something new? If so talk about among yourselves on the comment section, as I’m actually at the second wedding today.
The standard wedding traditions are fairly well know. How true the background and reason for these customs, I leave up to you. The wedding ring symbolized eternity, as it has no end. The third finger of the left hand was chosen because of the belief that ancient physician thought that a vein ran from that finger to the heart. Why they thought this, or who specifically proposed this idea is lost in the midst of time.
The idea of the veil comes from the tradition of arranged marriages, where the groom doesn’t get to see the bride until after they are married. Or sometimes the veil thought to symbolize the bride’s virtue. The tradition of the white dress comes from Victorian England.
And of course, the traditional rhyme of something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue and a lucky sixpence (or penny) in her shoe.
For my (1969) wedding
Something old (a lace handkerchief from my grandmother)
Something new (the dress)
Something borrowed (must have been something, but it’s so long ago I don’t remember!)
Something blue (the new tradition of the blue garter)
A lucky sixpence in her shoe (a girlfriend bought me sixpence from England)
My March daughter-in-law:
Something old (her great grandmothers embroidered handkerchief)
Something new (the dress)
Something borrowed (a hairpin)
Something blue (engagement ring is blue sapphire)
A lucky sixpence in her shoe (a ha’penny)
My September daughter-in-law:
Something old (her mother’s garter)
Something new (her dress and jewelry)
Something borrowed (will borrow something on the day)
Something blue (her initials are sewn in blue in her dress)
A lucky sixpence in the shoe (a sixpence from her mom at the bridal shower)
As you might guess from all the similarities, that I’m very pleased with my sons for choosing such great gals.
Do you remember your something old, something new? If so talk about among yourselves on the comment section, as I’m actually at the second wedding today.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Daughters of the King
A long time ago - a very long time ago - I had to take a course in Canadian History. Like a lot of compulsory history courses, it mainly consisted of names, dates and battles. Not particularly interesting.
One of the groups we studied were "Les Filles du roi," the king's girls. I took a mild interest in these "girls for marrying" - enough to remember the relevant facts for the final exam - but it really didn't mean much to me at the time.
I didn't begin to enjoy history until my university days.
Then, about 15 years ago, my cousin did some genealogical research on my mother's side of the family and discovered that, in the 17th Century, an ancestress of mine had been one of the filles du roi.
The term "filles du roi" was exclusively applied to the young women of marriageable age and capable of bearing children, who emigrated to New France - now the province of Quebec - between 1663-1673. They were so called because their transportation, settlement expenses, and dowry were assumed by Louis XIV's royal treasury. They were destined to marry the habitants, or settlers, of New France.
The dowries of these girls were quite interesting when you consider all the hardships these girls were to face - setting up housekeeping in such a harsh new land. Here are some of the items that were given to a typical fille du roi:
1 velvet-lined chest; 1 taffeta kerchief; 1 ribbon for shoes; 100 needles; 1 comb; 1 white thread; 1 pair of stockings; 1 pair of gloves; 1 pair of scissors; 2 knives; about 1,000 pins; 1 bonnet; 4 laces; and 2 silver livres.
Upon arrival in New France, the girls were taken by nuns, either to Ville Marie (now Montreal) or to Quebec City, where they received training for marriage.
Since I live in the Montreal area, I wanted to find out as much as possible about these girls, particularly my ancestress. There's a wonderful museum, the Maison St. Gabriel, where the girls who arrived in Montreal lived before their weddings. It's now a museum, and I've been there many a time. Unfortunately, I've not yet been able to locate my ancestress, leading me to the conclusion that she probably arrived in Quebec City, rather than Montreal.
It's a bit of personal historical research I plan to delve into as soon as possible.
One of the groups we studied were "Les Filles du roi," the king's girls. I took a mild interest in these "girls for marrying" - enough to remember the relevant facts for the final exam - but it really didn't mean much to me at the time.
I didn't begin to enjoy history until my university days.
Then, about 15 years ago, my cousin did some genealogical research on my mother's side of the family and discovered that, in the 17th Century, an ancestress of mine had been one of the filles du roi.
The term "filles du roi" was exclusively applied to the young women of marriageable age and capable of bearing children, who emigrated to New France - now the province of Quebec - between 1663-1673. They were so called because their transportation, settlement expenses, and dowry were assumed by Louis XIV's royal treasury. They were destined to marry the habitants, or settlers, of New France.
The dowries of these girls were quite interesting when you consider all the hardships these girls were to face - setting up housekeeping in such a harsh new land. Here are some of the items that were given to a typical fille du roi:
1 velvet-lined chest; 1 taffeta kerchief; 1 ribbon for shoes; 100 needles; 1 comb; 1 white thread; 1 pair of stockings; 1 pair of gloves; 1 pair of scissors; 2 knives; about 1,000 pins; 1 bonnet; 4 laces; and 2 silver livres.
Upon arrival in New France, the girls were taken by nuns, either to Ville Marie (now Montreal) or to Quebec City, where they received training for marriage.
Since I live in the Montreal area, I wanted to find out as much as possible about these girls, particularly my ancestress. There's a wonderful museum, the Maison St. Gabriel, where the girls who arrived in Montreal lived before their weddings. It's now a museum, and I've been there many a time. Unfortunately, I've not yet been able to locate my ancestress, leading me to the conclusion that she probably arrived in Quebec City, rather than Montreal.
It's a bit of personal historical research I plan to delve into as soon as possible.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Weaving History with Shapeshifters
Even shape shifter stories can revolve around historical facts.
In my werewolf western historical, Moonlight Desperado, soon to be published by Siren-Bookstrand Publishing, the hero's original goal is inspired by Texas history.
The inspiration for the story came from a family story that happened after the Civil War ended. Raiders passing through Texas demanded bedding to sleep on outside my great great grandmother's home. Of course the characters have been changed in my story, Moonlight Desperado.
While researching the time period in Texas, I found an article about General Shelby passing through Texas on his way to Mexico. He stopped in San Antonio on his way. In a book I found at the library, a historian recounts the problem General Shelby had with horse thieves stealing their horses at night. The year that General Shelby crossed Texas turned out to be the same year my great great grandmother was ordered by raiders to provide bedding for them. The same raiders later came back and demanded money.
With a little imagination, my hero took shape, so to speak, as a spy for General Shelby trying to catch the men stealing the General's horses at night. My heroine became the woman alone that night with two little sisters asleep upstairs. Ordered to provide bedding for the raiders in her front yard, she stands up to the men, who include the hero, not knowing they're shape shifters.
According to historical records, General Shelby crossed Texas, bringing order to San Antonio on the way, and became tangled in the political unrest in Mexico.
I find it challenging to weave fiction and fact together for an exciting romance story. Look for Moonlight Desperado coming soon from Siren-Bookstrand. I hope you'll enjoy it.
www.JeanmarieHamilton.com
In my werewolf western historical, Moonlight Desperado, soon to be published by Siren-Bookstrand Publishing, the hero's original goal is inspired by Texas history.
The inspiration for the story came from a family story that happened after the Civil War ended. Raiders passing through Texas demanded bedding to sleep on outside my great great grandmother's home. Of course the characters have been changed in my story, Moonlight Desperado.
While researching the time period in Texas, I found an article about General Shelby passing through Texas on his way to Mexico. He stopped in San Antonio on his way. In a book I found at the library, a historian recounts the problem General Shelby had with horse thieves stealing their horses at night. The year that General Shelby crossed Texas turned out to be the same year my great great grandmother was ordered by raiders to provide bedding for them. The same raiders later came back and demanded money.
With a little imagination, my hero took shape, so to speak, as a spy for General Shelby trying to catch the men stealing the General's horses at night. My heroine became the woman alone that night with two little sisters asleep upstairs. Ordered to provide bedding for the raiders in her front yard, she stands up to the men, who include the hero, not knowing they're shape shifters.
According to historical records, General Shelby crossed Texas, bringing order to San Antonio on the way, and became tangled in the political unrest in Mexico.
I find it challenging to weave fiction and fact together for an exciting romance story. Look for Moonlight Desperado coming soon from Siren-Bookstrand. I hope you'll enjoy it.
www.JeanmarieHamilton.com
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Early American Holidays
As the days get shorter and night fall arrives earlier, my thoughts drift to the upcoming holidays, particularly Christmas. The celebration of the birth of Christ as well as the arrival of Santa Claus definitely achieves its aim of providing entertainment and joy during the darkest time of the year. I start imagining shopping and baking cookies and spending time with my family. Christmas is one of the relatively few holidays that survived the transition from Europe to the present day.
Generally, the new calendar year of an agricultural people began with a noisy celebration to scare away evil spirits that may have cursed the past year. Think New Year’s Eve here, as a current example. Thus, the use of noise makers and the shooting of fireworks. The accompanying singing and dancing helped hide the serious nature of the event. Personally, I just thought it made it more of a celebration, but what do I know?
Spring would bring another celebration with rituals that celebrate the phallic symbols, such as a maypole with maids dancing and weaving around it. The innocuous Easter egg hunt is actually also celebrating fertility and new birth. And here we just thought it was fun to play hide and seek with the Easter Bunny!
Midsummer was celebrated as a time when the crops were at full maturity. Here again, this was an occasion for partying, dancing, feasting, drinking, and sexual activity. I wonder about all the picnics we typically go on as a nation, the time we spend at baseball games and such. Would that count as midsummer celebrations? Hmmm.
The year closed with a celebration of the successful harvest. Our own Thanksgiving celebration, as we all know, began as such a feast in the fall for the very first pilgrims. That’s truly an American holiday that has longevity. I'm not talking about how long it takes to prepare the meal, which typically is longer than the eating of it!
Early America’s calendar included four holidays that marked the seasons: Lady’s Day on March 25; Midsummer on June 24; Michaelmas on September 29; and Christmas on December 25. Additionally, there were a few others that many folks across the newly formed country observed, such as Candlemas, Shrove Tuesday, St. Valentine’s Day, Good Friday, Easter Sunday, and Whitsunweek (Whitsuntide).
Of course, there are many holidays on the current calendar that have nothing to do with the seasons. Some of these include Independence Day on July 4; Labor Day in September; and Presidents Day in February (formerly split between Washington’s Birthday and Lincoln’s Birthday).
Some are known best as Hallmark Holidays, because they are purely commercial holidays. For example, Mother’s Day in May and Father’s Day in June, among many examples. Still other days are designated holidays by Presidential Decree or an act of Congress. I know that many Southerners celebrate Lee-Jackson Day to honor the birthdays of Robert E. Lee and Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson on the Friday before Martin Luther King Day. Interesting juxtaposition, that!
All this got me thinking: what local holidays do you celebrate? How many others around you also celebrate that day? What holidays do you wish we could eliminate? Or create? (I'd like to see a national historical romance writers day, personally.)
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Do you want a history lesson with your historical romance?
By Nicole North
Personally, I don’t. If I wanted a history lesson, I’d take a history class, read a research book, a text book, historical fiction or fictionalized history. But if I’m reading historical romance, I want the romance to be the primary focus of the story.
So, why read historical romance instead of contemporary? Because the historical setting offers me far more escapism than a contemporary setting. We all live in a contemporary setting, so it’s all real and familiar to us. But if we can be transported back in time 400 years, that’s a totally new and different reading experience. It’s much like fantasy or science fiction in that way, but it could have happened. This is why historical research must be accurate.
Just because historical research must be accurate in historical romance, doesn’t mean you need tons of it in there. I’ve noticed in my own writing, it’s more like an iceberg. You only see a little of the historical detail, the necessary stuff. But most of the research remains just beneath the surface and is not obvious to readers.
Not only is this what most historical romance readers expect, but also editors and agents who acquire historical romance. An example from my own experience: I wanted to include a scene which takes place at Midsummer in one of my novels. I researched Midsummer in Scotland endlessly. I wrote the very detailed scene of several pages, showing all the Midsummer activities and customs my characters were participating in. Vivid visuals. The works. Wow, was I proud of that scene. But I was not allowed to keep it. Why? Because it had no purpose. It was basically a history lesson. It was shown rather than told, but still the Midsummer scene did not move my story forward. The details were unnecessary to the developing relationship and plot. A huge portion of it could be removed without changing the story at all. So that’s what I did. The characters are still having a Midsummer celebration, but it is only the setting and backdrop. Not the main focus.
Most historical romance readers want to be immersed in your vivid historical setting for the escapism value. Not for the extreme realism value. I certainly don’t want to read page after page of detailed descriptions of how bad hygiene and sanitation was during the 1600s. I don’t want to read gory details of battle scenes, torture or executions. That’s real history, but it isn’t romance escapism. Romance is an uplifting, positive genre. And the only way to achieve that in historical romance, is to leave out most of the gory and stinky details. Sure, a few of such details are fine and sometimes necessary. They do give a hint of the realism. I’ve written battle scenes and described the stench of a city. But it isn’t something I want to read about for hours. I want to know what’s going on in that developing relationship.
The insertion of unusual historical details has to be handled carefully. They shouldn’t make the story drag. The reader shouldn’t be confused by them or have to go look up words to understand what’s happening in the story. But if the reader happens to learn something about history while reading your historical romance, so much the better. You can do both, but in my opinion, any history lessons should probably be well disguised as entertainment.
:)
***
I'm thrilled to report my anthology, Secrets Volume 27 Untamed Pleasures, was voted Best Book of the Week at LASR -WC and received a 5 cherry review.
Here is a snippet: "Devil in a Kilt by Nicole North is a time traveling romance with a brawny Scotsman under a curse. There’s a lot of heart in this story as well as heat. There are a few plot conflicts that interweave, between personal angst, a vile witch and the breaking of the aforementioned curse. I enjoyed Gavin, the hero, and his kilt wearing ways. Shauna, the heroine, was the perfect balance of modern day independence and sexual freedom which put her as the perfect counterpoint to Gavin’s alpha Laird. She’s not loose or scatterbrained, she is a strong woman who stands up for herself and her dialogue was crackerjack sharp. Also, I liked that Shauna isn’t afraid to enjoy the benefits of Gavin’s…kilt. Their coming together was pure romance. The battle or skirmish reminded me of the daring do of the old Errol Flynn movies – dashing and manly. It was very exciting." Review by Xeranthemum
http://www.nicolenorth.com/
Personally, I don’t. If I wanted a history lesson, I’d take a history class, read a research book, a text book, historical fiction or fictionalized history. But if I’m reading historical romance, I want the romance to be the primary focus of the story.
So, why read historical romance instead of contemporary? Because the historical setting offers me far more escapism than a contemporary setting. We all live in a contemporary setting, so it’s all real and familiar to us. But if we can be transported back in time 400 years, that’s a totally new and different reading experience. It’s much like fantasy or science fiction in that way, but it could have happened. This is why historical research must be accurate.
Just because historical research must be accurate in historical romance, doesn’t mean you need tons of it in there. I’ve noticed in my own writing, it’s more like an iceberg. You only see a little of the historical detail, the necessary stuff. But most of the research remains just beneath the surface and is not obvious to readers.
Not only is this what most historical romance readers expect, but also editors and agents who acquire historical romance. An example from my own experience: I wanted to include a scene which takes place at Midsummer in one of my novels. I researched Midsummer in Scotland endlessly. I wrote the very detailed scene of several pages, showing all the Midsummer activities and customs my characters were participating in. Vivid visuals. The works. Wow, was I proud of that scene. But I was not allowed to keep it. Why? Because it had no purpose. It was basically a history lesson. It was shown rather than told, but still the Midsummer scene did not move my story forward. The details were unnecessary to the developing relationship and plot. A huge portion of it could be removed without changing the story at all. So that’s what I did. The characters are still having a Midsummer celebration, but it is only the setting and backdrop. Not the main focus.
Most historical romance readers want to be immersed in your vivid historical setting for the escapism value. Not for the extreme realism value. I certainly don’t want to read page after page of detailed descriptions of how bad hygiene and sanitation was during the 1600s. I don’t want to read gory details of battle scenes, torture or executions. That’s real history, but it isn’t romance escapism. Romance is an uplifting, positive genre. And the only way to achieve that in historical romance, is to leave out most of the gory and stinky details. Sure, a few of such details are fine and sometimes necessary. They do give a hint of the realism. I’ve written battle scenes and described the stench of a city. But it isn’t something I want to read about for hours. I want to know what’s going on in that developing relationship.
The insertion of unusual historical details has to be handled carefully. They shouldn’t make the story drag. The reader shouldn’t be confused by them or have to go look up words to understand what’s happening in the story. But if the reader happens to learn something about history while reading your historical romance, so much the better. You can do both, but in my opinion, any history lessons should probably be well disguised as entertainment.
:)***
I'm thrilled to report my anthology, Secrets Volume 27 Untamed Pleasures, was voted Best Book of the Week at LASR -WC and received a 5 cherry review.
Here is a snippet: "Devil in a Kilt by Nicole North is a time traveling romance with a brawny Scotsman under a curse. There’s a lot of heart in this story as well as heat. There are a few plot conflicts that interweave, between personal angst, a vile witch and the breaking of the aforementioned curse. I enjoyed Gavin, the hero, and his kilt wearing ways. Shauna, the heroine, was the perfect balance of modern day independence and sexual freedom which put her as the perfect counterpoint to Gavin’s alpha Laird. She’s not loose or scatterbrained, she is a strong woman who stands up for herself and her dialogue was crackerjack sharp. Also, I liked that Shauna isn’t afraid to enjoy the benefits of Gavin’s…kilt. Their coming together was pure romance. The battle or skirmish reminded me of the daring do of the old Errol Flynn movies – dashing and manly. It was very exciting." Review by Xeranthemum
http://www.nicolenorth.com/
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