That Moment

Recently, I've read a few too many romances where the heroine basically falls in love with the hero because he's so hot. She doesn't necessarily think in those words (in some of the books, she's a Regency or Victorian or Medieval woman), but there's not much going on between her and the hero except constant physical attraction, the desire to act on it, the desire not to act on it, the shock of acting on it, the guilt or elation of acting on it, and oh boy, those muscles! Et cetera et cetera ad infinitum...

Seems to me, if that's all love were about, all the women in the country would be in love with Russell Crowe and would live out the rest of their lives in misery because they couldn't have him. Do I want to read a 300-page book about how my next door neighbor is totally in love with Russell, and loves his abs, and loves his legs, and really really really wants him to touch her??? Um, no, sorry.

But that's how some of these books I've read recently have struck me. The heroine and hero in the book have no greater emotional connection, no more true bonding, no more actual understanding of each other as human beings, than would my neighbor have with Russell.

What do I like in a romance? I like that moment when, as a reader, your heart melts. When you just love the hero to death, and want him to be happy so badly, and know the heroine can truly make him that happy, and he her as well. I love that moment when the hero does something that's so kind, or so true, or so real, that your brain and heart shout YES!!! Yes, that's it. That's love.

After all, what's to stop my neighbor from changing her taste to Antonio Banderas, or Josh Holloway, or Naveen Andrews tomorrow? What's inspiring about that? Sure, they're gorgeous to look at (as these pictures prove), but I can't really believe in a relationship based on nothing but the physical. The way I see it, that's not a relationship . . . and it just isn't that interesting to read about.

Recently, I was watching the TV show House, in which the seriously cranky Doctor House (the inimitable Hugh Laurie) was hoping that his old flame, Stacy (Sela Ward) would come back to him (despite his unending bad temper, and an ego the size of the national debt). And suddenly, there was one of those moments. The two were waiting in an airport on business for a delayed flight, and when Stacy sat down, she found that House had gotten her a cup of coffee... And not just any coffee, but the kind she liked, done the way she liked... That little moment, showing that even years after their relationship ended, he cared enough about her to remember how she liked her coffee, and the casual, comfortable way he got it for her without any show or fuss, really melted my heart.

So... What moment in a book, TV show, or movie melted your heart? Is there a scene where a character's action really touched you? How about something a character said? Or a moment or moments that made you want to shout, Yes! That's it! That's love.

Please share!!!

Cara
Cara King, www.caraking.com
MY LADY GAMESTER -- available now from Signet Regency!

Getting Started

I just got back last night from a weekend out of town, and had lots of fun reading over the RR postings from the last few days! Maybe because I'm just incurably nosy about other people's lives, I always love reading about how other writers work, how they set up and stick to (or don't stick to) their schedules, etc.

Like many writers, I am a pantser forced on occasion to be a plotter before my story gets away from me entirely! I start with a short outline, maybe one page (or a full synopsis, if it's a proposal, though the finished product seldom resembles anything like this synopsis. A synopsis is a horrible thing anyway! Down with the synopsis!). So, I know who my main characters are going to be, where they will be at, and basically what they need to be doing. How to get them from Point A to Point B has gotten a bit easier over time, just from sheer practice. My first manuscript was a total mess, because I just had no clue what to do. Maybe it would be easier, and take less time, and make for a shorter, tighter story, if I could do things like character charts, collages, story boards, chapter-by-chapter outlines, like so many great authors do. But I just don't have the patience, or the energy. I'm so tired after doing a detailed character outline that I have nothing left for the book, and I have to go take a nap! I just have to be patient with my pantser ways, I guess, and hope my characters help me out, as they so often do.

One question I get a lot, and one I like to ask other writers, is--where do you get your ideas? I always have to say I have no clue. Maybe a movie, another book (non-fiction is great for this), a title, a place, a character that moves in and won't go away (this happens a lot with secondary characters). Once I got an idea from a piece of material I saw in a fabric store. Lack of ideas is never my problem, they float around in my head all the time. It's the giving them shape that gives me some trouble. So I ask everyone here--where do you get your ideas??? How do you get started?

Rolling With The Punches

I read the responses to Cara's day asking what the readers of this blog want. I love research things myself, and I love just composing. The writer part of me is often more eager than the history buff, so I change around a bit.

Today I have something a little different. Since there are writers reading Risky Regencies, some published, some aspiring to be published…I thought I'd talk a little about my own experience.

The details of my back-story aren't that important. Everyone has one, and they are all good—they all lead to the love of writing. I've mentioned before what made me love Regencies—and romantic suspense and good gothic romances—and that was my early reading. I loved Charles Dickens, Mary Roberts Rinehart, Victoria Holt, Helen MacInnes, Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer—by way of Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys and the Black Stallion. ;) Readers have the first ingredient that makes writers, by the way.

Growing as a writer—For those who would like to read about this, with apologies to those who don't: To make it as a writer you do have to write every day, or nearly every day. Like anything else you become better at, it is practice, practice, practice. Many of us start with the love of the written word and write to please ourselves. Eventually our minds turn to the possibility of becoming published. We keep on writing, have our highs and our lows, and one day, after what seems an eon of time and a colossal amount of work, we receive an offer. My offer came from NAL Signet for my manuscript that I called "Cat of My Heart." It was renamed "The Best Laid Plans" and came out as a Signet Regency in November 2003.

Here comes the "Rolling With the Punches" part: I now need to seek publication all over again. This is the lot of a writer, particularly a novelist, and it is not that unusual. Signet Regencies will no longer be produced, and I have completed my last contract for them.

I still love Regencies, but my current project is a romantic suspense. I am, however, daily attacked by Regency plot ideas! So no one must think I will not write in the Regency period again. I shall. It is only a matter of when.

Those of you who are aspiring writers may find it discouraging to know that being published does not mean a constant state of being with no further concerns about being published in the future. But I can tell you that it is not all that bad, either. I am eager to plunge ahead and see where I end up. Our books are adventures—so our careers must be. And the current state of publishing only makes it more of a challenge.

I'd love to hear everyone's comments about publishing, either their own story, or about the state of publishing, or what they are targeting and why. Regency historicals are still popular, and this is where I hope to find myself eventually. There are also other avenues. If you love Regencies, where are you focusing your efforts now?

Laurie
LORD RYBURN'S APPRENTICE
Signet January, 2006

Let's Do It Again

If you visit writers' blogs, chances are good you've come across the terms Pantser and Plotter. Writers use these terms to distinguish the style of writing they do; pantsers write by the seat of their pants, with no idea where the story is going. Plotters, no surprise (in more ways than one!), know where their story is going before they put finger to keyboard.

I am a pantser. I know the characters, I know why they absolutely should not be together, and that I am going to force them together nonetheless, but I have no idea how I am going to get them there. Which is fine if you're working on the story steadily, but what about if you take a break?

I just returned from a vacation to Portland, OR, where I drank coffee, shopped for books, and hung out with my best friend. Note that I did not write. So now I'm back in Brooklyn with REALITY staring me in the face. Not the laundry, that's doable, or the dishes, or the fact that the Spouse DID NOT BUY MILK even though I have an issue with not enough milk in the house (see the coffee comment for a clue). All manageable, albeit with much gnashing of teeth.

No, the problem is that I have to pick up the threads of my story and start weaving them together again. And since I write by feel, that's really, really hard. To put it in perspective, think about misplacing a book you're in the middle of reading--you locate it about a week or so later, with relief, but you don't remember exactly why it's important she revenge her father, or he has trust issues, or whatever. If you're reading the story, you can get past that. If you're writing the darn thing? Yow. Hard work.

So today I am buying milk, doing laundry, and heading off again to collect my son from his grandmother's house. Monday I launch myself back into writing, where I hope I can figure out where the heck I was going when I last touched the story.

So--what do you do to jumpstart a project? If you're a writer, how do you convince yourself to write again after a break?

Start Me Up,

Megan
www.meganframpton.com
PS: I don't know if you can read it all, but the album cover is a movie soundtrack featuring "Let's Do It Again" by the Staple Singers. I just love the Staple Singers. Mavis Staples has one of the sexiest voices in the universe, and this song seemed appropriate.

Near misses with the classics

Last week I blogged about favorite books when I was a kid including at least one writer loathed by teachers. That got me thinking about books forced upon me at school that nearlyput me off the authors for life. And in fact I recently re-read one of them, Cranford, and loved it (thanks, Pam Rosenthal, for suggesting it). I was wondering what other books, or authors, others encountered at the wrong time and place, school or elsewhere, and how you've come to terms--or not--with them.

Cranford by Mrs. Gaskell was chosen by educators for its length, I think. It's a very short novel, mainly a series of vignettes about life among the spinsters of a small provincial English town in the 1840s. I can't really find any other reason to inflict it on a bunch of teenage girls who were fantasizing about marrying John, Paul, George, or Ringo. We were totally clueless about what the novel was even about or when it was set. I had the vague impression it was set in America, as there was a reference early on to "the railroad" and not railway--apparently an early Victorian term. I think we'd have responded much better to Wives and Daughters (yes, I'm always going on about Wives and Daughters), which is so romantic (but long), and with a decidely modern outlook on mother-daughter relationships. And then there's always the hero and his famous knobstick in North and South (which I tried to re-read recently but found heavy going).

Continuing the catalogue of literary disasters, we were also inflicted with Silas Marner by George Eliot. Guess what: it's short. It's a very difficult book. It's particularly tedious if you're trying to guess the inseam measurement of Mick and the boys. Now I think we would have loved the teenage angst of Mill on the Floss (not my favorite), or Dorothea and her toyboy Ladislaw in Middlemarch. Or even the uberhot Daniel Deronda (though he is fairly boring) and naughty Gwendolyn Harleth.




Sadly, Thomas Hardy was represented by Under the Greenwood Tree. I still have no idea what it was about. I remember a lot of smock-clad yokels pontificating away about life, the universe, and everything, and a scene the teacher (bless her heart) described as being extremely risque, when the heroine appears at an open window with her hair down (the hopeless tart). It's so sad. To think we could have had the rampant romanticism of Tess of the d'Urbervilles or Far from the Madding Crowd (both made into terrific movies).

Tell us about your near misses!

What everyone thinks is true... Part III

Taking a break from the pleasure of viewing athletic male bodies in tight bodysuits (isn't men's speed skating grand?) to do the final bit of myth-busting on the history of pregnancy and childbirth.

#4: Husbands were always excluded from the birthing chamber.

Well, yes and no. Much as my husband bemoaned the loss of the "good old days" and offered to take up smoking and pacing rather than attend me through my two labors, having the husband in the delivery room isn't really a modern invention.

It's true that the centuries-old childbirth traditions usually excluded males. There was a female bonding ritual associated with childbirth: closing up windows and doors, lighting candles, the drinking of caudle (a hot spiced wine or ale) by the laboring woman's female friends and relatives. Usually the man was not welcome, but that was when births were attended by midwives.

When male practitioners were starting to get in on the act, it became inappropriate to exclude husbands. Believe it or not, some opponents of man-midwifery wrote, with great zeal, about the risks of the man-midwife becoming inflamed with passion by the sight of the laboring woman. I can just picture that, remembering what a femme fatale I must have looked during my two labors!

So husbands were not as a rule excluded from the birthing chamber. Old-fashioned female friends and relatives of the woman might complain or try to enforce the earlier ritual, but during the 18th century and into the 19th, the old rituals of childbirth were eroding, especially among the monied classes.

During Victorian times, when "chloroform-and-forceps" births became more common, the moral support provided by friends and family was increasingly replaced with medication. Doctors began to exclude any "unnecessary" persons from the birthing chamber, claiming they only distressed the patient anyway. By the time hospital births became more common (in the 1920's and 30's) everyone was excluded until the return to natural childbirth of our own time. And now there are some women who believe we should return to the old patterns of childbirth, with women helping women.

Anyway, during "our period" husbands sometimes did attend their wives. Prince Leopold was quite devoted to Princess Charlotte and attended during her 50-hour fatal ordeal. So on a happier note, it is perfectly acceptable for a proper Regency hero to attend the heroine during the birth of their child. It is equally possible that a scummy husband would go off hunting.

So who do you think about men in the delivery room? If you lived in the Regency, what might you prefer? Would you like a return to the old ritual? How would you feel about having your mother, mother-in-law, sisters, cousins, girlfriends and neighbors all there egging you on? Would it feel supportive or overwhelming? Who would you not want to have there?

And oh yes, I was modern enough to want my husband there. He does a wicked neck massage that really helped. Bucking other trends, though, I refused to do that "hee-hee-hoo-hoo" breathing. And promised my husband that anyone bringing a camera or any recording device near me before the baby and I were cleaned up would die a quick but painful death. :)

Elena
LADY DEARING'S MASQUERADE, an RT Reviewers' Choice Award nominee
www.elenagreene.com

Tell Us What You Want!

We at Risky Regencies are always delighted to know which posts you, our blog visitors, find most interesting here -- or what you'd like to see here in the future. At the moment, the best we can do is judge based on the number of comments a post receives -- so if a post gets a lot of comments, we assume that our visitors found it interesting...and if a post doesn't, we may not make similar posts in the future.

However, we also know that there are some posts that our visitors may enjoy quite a bit, but that do not elicit comments! But we have a hard time telling the difference between posts you enjoy but don't see the need to comment on, and posts that don't really interest you.

So, for example, the fact that Bertie's last two posts received only three comments each, none of which were from visitors to the blog, might indicate that people aren't really interested in poor Bertie's hapless posts. (Or it might not.)

Similarly, the fact that my two "what dirty bits did Kemble cut out of Shakespeare" posts also received no visitor comments might seem to indicate that our blog readers aren't interested in Regency Shakespeare.... Then again, it might just be that our visitors felt the posts did not lend themselves to comments.

In other words, do you really want me to stop posting Bertie's clueless questions? And the naughty bits from Shakespeare? Do you want more talk about Jane Austen movie hunks, or about Georgette Heyer novels, or about Horatio Hornblower? Do you want to hear more about the writing process, about how we create our novels, or how the publishing process works? Are you interested in hearing about what we're working on now? Do you want to discuss your favorite romance heroes, or the romance cliches you hate the most, or what you require in a heroine? Do you want more Regency history info here? Do you want to discuss your favorite Regencies, and get recommendations that may lead to new favorites?

Do let us know!

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

Snow Days!

My post today sort of goes along with Laurie's. We had our own "snow days" here over the weekend--everything I was scheduled to do (RWA chapter meeting, friend's dinner party, etc) was cancelled, my car was stuck in the garage (unless I wanted to dig it out, which I DIDN'T!), and I had two whole days of peace and quiet all for me. I could have done something useful, like mop the floor or finish reading my packet of RITA books, but of course I didn't! I watched far more Food Network than is good for me (I'm pretty sure that Giadda woman does not eat the pasta she cooks, or she wouldn't be so abominably skinny!), ate Choxie Hot Chocolate bars (another reason I will never be Giadda), and listened to some new CDs I had bought. It was wonderful.

I also settled in with my cats (like Laurie's, they think a snow day means a "crowd onto the chair with Mom like two big lumps" day) and took on Cara's "Read a Regency" challenge. I picked up Evelyn Richardson's A LADY OF TALENT from my TBR pile. It was very enjoyable, a tale of an earl, his shallow (but funny!) Almack's-loving fiancee, a female artist, and her dandy of a brother. I'm a sucker for art in books, and this heroine's career details (she was a student of Angelica Kauffmann, paints portraits of Society ladies but really wants to do historical scenes, etc) were fascinating. She also fit neatly into the "bluestocking" profile of Megan's quiz, always a plus for me. :) Of course, not all runs smoothly, and the silly fiancee has to be got rid of somehow, but you'll just have to read for yourself to see how!

It was a great weekend. If YOU had two whole snow days, how would you spend them?

Reflection and Remembrance

The Merchant Sisters circa 1903

I've been having some crazy days lately. I've been in this deep reflection stage, pondering the meaning of my life (here is a great opening for Monty Python fans) and imagining that I have made progress.

Reflection is a unique ability of man. I sometimes think it is somewhat of a lost art. Perhaps I am wrong? I'd like to think so...but with the advent of so many "sit there and be done to" mediums, it seems that solitude is less often experienced these days, and solitude is a necessary prerequisite.

I am sitting in front of a computer screen right now, even though at the moment I am talking to myself. But in seconds I could be anywhere in the electronic world, shopping, checking the weather in Burma, perusing my email, looking for a chat room (although I am not a chatter, I could look for a chat room). It is incredibly easy to do these things.

If I want to stand up and go to where I last left my remote control, supposing I can find it (if not, I will experience some unpredicted exercise) I can flick on the boob tube. There are even more boobs on it these days (of any sort you want to consider), and if soaps aren't your cuppa there are all of those "reality" shows--most of which don't seem the least bit real to me, but nonetheless. Of course, if one does not want these, or the news, there are movies--some exceptionally good--and "how-to" programs, a favorite of mine, because I can imagine doing something I don't, can't, or won't.

The radio is fairly innocuous these days. I usually tune into my local public radio that serves up NPR and PRI and the like. They actually do foster some thought on my part, rather like reading a good book--but it didn't used to be there. No, just a few short generations ago, one had to occupy oneself with engaging directly with another person, by viewing a live presentation, or by reading or writing or involving oneself with one's hobby.

My grandmothers sewed, read, played cards, wrote letters or poetry, took walks or buggy rides. They took walks, took the train, or went boating with their sweethearts/husbands. They made picnic lunches and made them exquisitely--they packed lemonade, cake and homemade pickles, homemade bread and jam, sliced meats, chicken legs, cloth napkins and a wool blanket or a woven tablecloth to lay out, and all was placed in a willow basket. In the evening they played the piano, sung, and read their favorite ladies' magazine.

I get nostalgic thinking of this world I only lived in, peripherally, as a child. I of course did not experience the horses--tractors and cars and trucks had arrived by the time I arrived in the world--but I listened to the stories and saw the photographs. And when I grew older and was more interested in listening to my transistor radio off in a corner by myself, these experiences were still part of me. They are to this day, as I remember them.

I'd like to thank my grandparents and other grand-relatives for this gift of the past, and I do wish I could somehow bring it back, at least in a small way. And that, I think, is why I write--and why my mother wrote, and why my grandmother wrote.

It is a gift of reflection, and a gift of bringing back to life things we love.

All the best in your life,
Laurie

Everything* I Know I Learned From Romance Novels

Some non-genre readers scoff at us fanat--that is, engaged readers of genre fiction. Romance, for example, they deride as being fluff, female porn, and the ever-loathed term "bodice ripper."
But I have learned a lot--A LOT-- from romance novels. For example:

One Saturday, the spouse and I were listening to NPR, and they had one of their quiz shows (no, I don't remember the title. If I did, I would have said!). They were playing Dictionary, where someone finds an obscure word and the contestants have to make up definitions, and the real definition is included, and the other side has to vote on which definition is the right one.
The word was "delope." I knew, of course, that it meant to shoot your pistol into the air during a duel because I . . . drumroll please . . . read historical romances.

I was up on the whole War of the Roses controversy because I devoured Anya Seton's Katherine. I also knew the prose Wat Tyler chanted during the 1381 Peasants' Revolt because of the same book ("When Adam delved and Eva span/Who was then the gentleman?).

I've always used the phrase "mutton dressed as lamb" to indicate an older woman wearing garments better suited for a younger one, and now my Swank Husband (and his NY-editorial friends) all use the term too. I routinely ask my husband "Do I look muttony?" before going out.

"Hard-pressed" refers to the forced conscription of men into the navy during wartime.

I know all of Henry VIII's wives in order: Katherine, Anne, Jane, Anne, Catherine, Katherine (that is from memory, I think I got all the 'Katherine's done properly) because of reading historical romance.

).While watching Master And Commander: The Far Side of the World, I leaned over and told my husband Admiral Lord Nelson had lost an arm, too, so Capt. Aubrey's next revelation to the young injured cabin-boy made me look extra-cool (or geeky. You decide

I know all about how important it was to be seated above the salt at a banquet table. I am a big fan of salt, btw.

I know there's more, but I think I've blathered enough--what facts have you learned from reading romance?

Megan
www.meganframpton.com
*Well, not everything, but a lot of things.

What did you read when you were a kid?

Time to clear the literary palate...

I was brought up in England, so I read some peculiarly English things--for instance, much Enid Blyton, the bane of teachers and parents for her awful and clunky prose, overuse of exclamation points (!!) and general idiocy, but beloved by many generations of English kids. I was a big admirer of the Famous Five series, starring Julian (older brother), Dick (fairly useless younger brother), Anne (their sister, a girly girl), their cousin George and her dog Timmy. George, aka Georgina, really really wanted to be a boy and I think she was destined to have some problems later on in life. The Five, in a fantasy world of endless school holidays, spent their time tracking down Evil Foreigners/Criminals who were doing Dastardly Deeds (usually involving the kidnapping of a geeky sort of scientist for his Big Secrets). Fab stuff. At a tender age I did some math and figured out, that counting three school holidays a year, the Famous Five were well into their 30s (and Timmy must have been a doddering canine geriatric), but they hadn't aged a bit. Just as well, for George's sake.


That's the low end of the pile. How about the good stuff? One outstanding book is A Traveller in Time by Alison Uttley, one of the best time-travel stories I've ever read. It's about a young girl who, when visiting her family in the country, goes back in time to become involved in the Babbington plot to overthrow Elizabeth I and put Mary Queen of Scots on the throne. It is a wonderfully dreamy and evocative book with a great use of language and historical detail, and the time travel details are absolutely convincing.





Another writer whose stuff I occasionally dip into now is Rosemary Sutcliffe, who wrote historical novels, concentrating mainly on the Roman-British occupation, and the period after the departure of the Roman legions from Britain. She's another writer who created a vivid and believable world--you know she's making stuff up but it feels absolutely right.





I could, but won't, write a whole blog entry on Edith Nesbit, socialist, feminist, author, whose most famous book in the US is The Railway Children. I was fascinated by the adventures of children in the late Victorian period--even in the books that feature fantasy and magic, it was the ordinary fabric of everyday life that I found the most interesting. The Railway Children was made into a movie starring Jennie Agutter as its heroine Bobbie (another girl who wanted to be a boy but not as adamantly as George), and she starred as the children's mother in a more recent version made by the BBC. A wonderful, major tearjerker.




And then there's Rudyard Kipling. Yes, I know he was a racist, sexist misogynous product of his times, but boy, could that gent write. I feel an immediate kinship with anyone who knows what I'm talking about when I mutter the great, grey greasy Limpopo River or I am the Cat who walks by himself and all places are alike to me--both quotes from the Just-So Stories. Check out the lovely art-deco style illustrations by Kipling himself--here, the Elephant's child is discovering what the crocodile has for dinner.

So, what did you read when you were a kid?

What everyone thinks is true... Part II

Elena, Regency Research Nerd, back for more myth-busting on the history of pregnancy and childbirth.

#3: Babies were born in the same ancestral bed where previous generations were born, consummated their marriages and died.

No! I've seen this concept many times, and I can't decide if it gives a sweeping sense of history or is just gross.

Several facts here:

Fabric was expensive and childbirth is messy. I won't go into details for fear of offending the squeamish and scaring male visitors from the blog. So let me just add three words--"No rubber sheets".

From the earliest times until well into the 19th century, most women usually gave birth in upright or semi-upright positions: squatting, standing, kneeling, sitting on the lap of a midwife or husband or in a birthing chair or stool.

However, from the 17th century or so toward "our" period, male obstetricians (called accoucheurs) who attended ladies, were beginning to move away from the birthing chair and/or redesigning it. Ladies (as opposed to working class women) were regarded as more delicate, and recumbent positions were increasingly recommended for them.

During the Regency, ladies usually gave birth in a specially designed birthing bed or cot, which was often portable and could be shared between friends.

The recommended position was the "Sims" position: woman on her side, knees drawn up, doctor BEHIND her. The lack of eye contact was supposed to preserve modesty and prevent embarrassment.

By Victorian times the "lithotomy" (on the back, legs up) position was more common, making for easier access for the doctor though not the best biological position for the woman. Conversely to Regency doctors, Victorian doctors worked under sheets by feel alone and maintained eye contact with their patients to prove they were not, um, peeking. Seems creepy to me.

Thanks for indulging me, everyone! Next week: husbands in the delivery room.

Elena
LADY DEARING'S MASQUERADE, an RT Reviewers' Choice Award nominee
www.elenagreene.com

The Regency AS YOU LIKE IT, part 2

As I mentioned in last Tuesday's post, I'm currently in a production of Shakespeare's AS YOU LIKE IT. Which, of course, makes this the perfect time for me to go over John Philip Kemble's version of the play -- which was the version used at the Theatre Royal Covent Garden during the Regency, and was also published and sold (for eighteen pence a copy).

So, what changes did the great actor/manager/director (pictured here) make to Shakespeare's text?

I was delighted to find that the answer is, very few!

Let's start with what Kemble left in. The following are words and phrases that Kemble clearly thought acceptable for general audiences to hear and read: damn'd, damnation, bastard, foul, slut, puking, belly, stomach, body, bawdry, udders, country copulatives, virgin, maid


The most vulgar speech that I could find that he left in was said by Touchstone the Fool, who is pretending to scold a shepherd for the immorality of his profession:

That is another simple sin in you: to bring the ewes and the rams together, and to offer to get your living by the copulation of cattle: to be bawd to a bell-wether; and to betray a she-lamb of a twelvemonth, to a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldy ram, out of all reasonable match. If thou be'st not damn'd for this, the devil himself will have no shepherds...

Some of the cuts (most of them quite short -- a line here or there) were, as far as I can tell, just for length, or occasionally to cut an obscure passage. Some, though, were probably for the indelicacy of the topic, or the vulgarity of the phrasing -- but even this seems not to be invariable. Touchstone talks a fair amount about horns (a constant joke in Shakespeare's plays, where all men seem to eternally fear being cuckolded), but a couple lines of Rosalind's joking about horns was cut. Perhaps in this case, the jokes themselves were not too warm, but the character of Rosalind was now thought to be too refined to make such jokes?

And yet Rosalind did keep some of her suggestive lines. Kemble left in the passage which reads:

ROSALIND: ... till you met your wife's wit going to your neighbor's bed.
ORLANDO: And what wit could wit have to excuse that?
ROSALIND: Marry, to say,--she came to seek you there.

On the other hand, Kemble cut the passage:

ROSALIND: I prithee take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings.
CELIA: So you may put a man in your belly?

Other passages that were presumably cut for indelicacy include:

CELIA: You will cry in time, in despite of a fall. (This is a double joke, referring to both sex and childbirth)

TOUCHSTONE: He that sweetest rose will find, must find love’s prick and Rosalind.

Also cut was a longish passage in which Touchstone and the shepherd compare a shepherd's greasy hands (due to handling ewes' "fells") and a courtier's hands, perfumed with civet ("the very uncleanly flux of a cat.")

Kemble invariably cut "God" (e.g. "I thank God" and "God save you") and changed it to "heaven" (so: "I thank heaven" and "Heaven save you") -- so I presume this was consistently done on the Regency stage.

Well, that's AS YOU LIKE IT as Kemble liked it! Hope you liked it too...

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

How well do you know Jane?

I was inspired by Megan's Quizilla post a few days ago (and also seeking to procrastinate at work!), so spent waaay too much time taking on-line quizzes and reading various England-travel websites planning a fantasy tour. The product is today's post--a fill--in-the-blank Janeite quiz I found! Each quote comes from an Austen novel (and movie, as the case may be), and you just have to fill in the blanks with the missing word. (I got 7 out of the 10 right). I'll post answers tomorrow, and just for fun will send a copy of one of my books to the person who posts the most right answers here before then!

1) "For what do we live, but to make ( ) for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?"
a) Amusement
b) Sport
c) Spruce beer

2) "Oh, who can ever be tired of ( )?"
a) Bath
b) Brighton
c) cake

3) "One half of the world cannot understand the ( ) of the other"
a) Jokes
b) Amusement
c) Pleasures

4) "A large ( ) is the best recipe for happiness I have ever heard of"
a) Income
b) Estate
c) Umbrella

5) "An ( ) is a very serious business"
a) Engagement
b) Annuity
c) Entailment

6) "There will be very few dates in this ( )"
a) History
b) Pudding
c) Loaf

7) "I am cruelly used, nobody feels for my poor ( )"
a) Daughters
b) Health
c) Nerves

8) "A ( ) boiled very soft is very wholesome"
a) Fowl
b) Calf's foot
c) Egg

9) "A lady, without family, was the best preserver of ( ) in this world"
a) Fruit
b) Furniture
c) Flowers

10) "and what are you reading, Miss...?" "Oh,, it is only ( )"
a) Fordyce's Sermons
b) a letter
c) a novel

Port, Sir?

An Englishman liked his drink. Gin, rum, and brandy was the ordinary fare, found in pubs and taverns across England. One could not trust the water, after all, and water did not rouse the spirits half so well.

Gentlemen had to be more particular in their choice of drink--good wines and spirits did for him--although I imagine the effect was the same.

I thought it would be interesting to see some examples of the serveware that would have been used. Above is an example of six sherry or port glasses circa 1810 and at the left is a wine glass circa 1750--that is, if it is not an ale flute--I'm not quite sure of that, but it looks like a wine glass to me.

Following first is a decanter circa 1820. The quality seems quite fine; I expected to find more irregularities in the glass when I began this search, but it seems that there is quite a variety, I
suppose depending on the maker and the market the piece was intended for.

Next is a very nice etched wine glass circa 1770 with a very inter-esting swirled stem. You may notice that the bowl is not very big; in formal dinners where there might be numerous toasts, one could not get "potted" after the first two.



Finally, there is a pair of cobalt decanters marked "rum" and "brandy" (1790)















and a "rummer"--a rum glass of which it seems many have survived, since I found quite a few examples for sale on the internet.


Armed with this information, as little as it is, you can at least imagine what a gentleman might have thrown at his grate at the end of a rousing toast...or perhaps, in a fit of temper!

Glass enthusiasts--I am a novice in this arena and would love your input!

Laurie
LORD RYBURN'S APPRENTICE
Signet, Jan. 2006

The Questioner Returns

Just dashing in for a moment, during a missive from the sponsor, with a question or two.

1) Where does the fast restaurant entitled "Mac Donalds" get its apples? I bought their apple salad and forgot to eat it. Several hours have now passed, but the apples have not turned brown in the least, even at the cut edges. Are these pieces not apple after all, but some variety of still life artwork?

2) Is Mr. Mac Donald related to Mr. Mac Nugget? How about Mayor Mac Cheese?

Enough questions for one day . . . Back to my regularly scheduled Tele Vision!

Bertie the Beau

Regency Heroines' Quiz

This week, we've been wowed by the Research Nerds (Cara and Elena), Amanda's cooking larks, and Janet's quest for inspiration. Today I woke up with a vicious, pre-flu headache, which necessitates my bringing the tone down a bit for today's post. Discussion follows the quiz:


Oh dear, you are Bookish, aren't you? You are a highly intelligent and witty bluestocking, whose beauty is hidden behind spectacles. Your dress sense is eccentric and a little unfashionable, and you consider yourself plain. You have very little use for men, who find your knowledge of Shakespeare, interest in politics and forthright speech formidable. You are undoubtedly well-off. The only reason for your presence in a novel of this kind (which, I might add, you would not dream of reading, although you have occasionally enjoyed the works of Miss Austen), is your mother, who is absolutely determined that you will make a good marriage. Rather than defying her directly, you are quietly subversive, dancing with anyone who asks you, but making no attempt to hide your intellectual interests. The only person who can get past your facade is the man who is witty enough to spar with you, and be amused at your blatant attempts to scare your suitors away. While you will, no doubt, subject him to a gruelling cross-examination to find out whether his respect for your intelligence is real or mere flattery, you may be sure that he is your match, and that you, he AND your mother will all live happily ever after,


The Regency Romance Quiz: What kind of Romance Heroine are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Okay, so probably a lot of romance readers would get the same result. Most of us are, by definition, bookish. But is that the kind of heroine you like to read about? For me, the answer is a resounding 'yes.' I love the intellectual, forthright, opinionated heroines who aren't afraid of saying what they know. I don't mind reading about feisty women, but they also have to be intelligent, not just spirited. Amanda Quick's heroines are usually this type of bookish miss, and I love them. Loretta Chase's heroines are often a good deal smarter than the hero (or at least it seems that way). Many traditional Regencies feature governesses, companions, scholars' and vicars' daughters, and I like reading their transformation as they develop a passion for love as well as for books.

So--which personality types do you most like your heroines to have? Do you consider yourself a "highly intelligent and witty Bluestocking?" And which heroines best demonstrate the qualities you like the most?

Thanks for sharing!

Megan
http://www.meganframpton.com

Where do you get your ideas?

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