Dragonblade Authors Unplugged

Check out this interview on Dragonblade Authors Unplugged. Meet the host, the lovely Evelyn Adams, and two other Dragonblade authors, then hook up with me around the 12-minute mark. (I'm the bobblehead in the bottom right corner. J)

Love Denied is out in the world!

 

Publishing a book is a very different thing than writing one. ~Tara Westover

The release of Love Denied is less than a week away. It is always exhilarating and nerve-wracking putting a book out into the universe. Months spent alone with characters and their story creates a unique bond with a fictional world. You set it free, but you don't let it go. You hold it close and hope that others feel a fondness for your created peeps, too. While this is my first book with Dragonblade Publishing, it is my fourth heading off into the sunset. So far, it hasn't gotten easier.

I do hope you enjoy it. On Friday, I'll be over at Dragonblade Publishing's Reader's Group having a bit of a chat and doing a few giveaways. If you have some time, drop by and say hello. And, as always, thank you for supporting me along this crazy wonderful writing journey.

He must shape simultaneously (in an expanding creative moment) his characters, plot, and setting, each inextricably connected to the others; he must make his whole world in a single, coherent gesture, as a potter makes a pot. ~John Gardner

I've talked about how I choose a setting and about how I track a setting. Today, I'm going to discuss how a setting isn't simply a place to drop your characters and let them run loose. For me, it's about much more than that. It provides an opportunity to enhance character development, to give insight into why a character is who they are without explicitly telling the reader. I think of it as backup information to help explain a character's behaviour.

Nicholas Sinclair is the second son to a wealthy nobleman, an earl. While he was never meant to inherit the title, he did grow up in comfort with the advantages that come with money. Independent and sure of himself, he sought to become his own man and joined the army.

Catherine Baring is the only daughter of a baron who lives on the neighbouring property. She is comfortable with men, having grown up with only her brother and father in her home, and, of course, the neighbouring Sinclair boys. Yet, she is not rough and tumble. She is graceful, refined, and exudes a caring and warmth.

What does setting have to do with their character descriptions? Everything.

Both Nicholas and Catherine grew up without a mother's love. While Nicholas and his brother were left in the care of servants, Catherine's father took an active role in her upbringing. Nicholas can be cold and standoffish and easy to anger, whereas Catherine is patient and all-loving. Nicholas' home, Woodfield Park, is a massive building with clean impersonal aesthetic lines. Its rooms are big, its pillars intimidating, and it is cold.

Catherine's home, Stratton Hall, is a medium-sized manse, with smaller rooms, and the warmth of wood panelling of years gone by. In stark contrast to the austere marble décor that greets you in the entrance hall of Woodfield Park, Stratton Hall has a huge fireplace, a well-used table and a wall of taxidermy that adds personality to the room. (I know, yuck, but it was a thing. I decided to think of it as bringing nature indoors.)

Nicholas's father is often found in his private set of rooms away from the rest of the house. Catherine's father is usually in his library which is just off the main entrance hall. Can you guess who of the two is the more accessible emotionally?

Nothing reflects the differences in their childhood homes more than the entrances. I'll use the pictures of two very real estates and quotes from Love Denied to demonstrate it.

Entrance at Willey Hall

The vastness of the atrium mirrored his sense of hollow, his heels clicking on the floor as he moved to the marble stairs dominating the hall. ~Love Denied

The Hall Browsholme

The hall was not a grand entrance but a serviceable room, its high-beamed ceiling echoing voices of days long ago. She laid her hat on the weathered table, its etched surface testimony to the many meals that had been eaten on it once upon a time. ~Love Denied

So, the next time you read a novel, consider the setting. Maybe it will fill in some valuable information.

Remember, just because you're writing fiction doesn't mean that you can ignore facts. It is those details that make fiction compelling and, in many cases, very real for the reader. ~ Roy A. Teel Jr.

One of the difficulties for me as a writer is keeping track of the minutiae, the small things that should remain unnoticed but, if inconsistent, will throw a reader out of the story. Is it a desk or a table in the library? Is the settee facing the fireplace or perpendicular to it? Are the servants' quarters downstairs or in the west wing? Is the dining room to the left or the right down the hallway?

Over time, as I write, this knowledge becomes ingrained. But, when I begin, I am too focussed on character development and plot lines to hold onto all of those miniscule details. So, in advance, I draw a plan of the house. I sketch it out, designate rooms, and add necessary details to them as I go along. It helps me maintain continuity and, as an added bonus, it makes the world I am creating even more real.

Ground Floor of Woodfield Park

Upper Floor of Woodfield Park

Ground Floor of Stratton Hall

An apt quotation is like a lamp which flings its light over the whole sentence. ~Letitia Elizabeth Landon

I meant to take two days off at Christmas but didn't quite manage it. I ended up working until 1 pm on Christmas Eve. It seems I am consumed by all things connected to writing, and once I begin something, I cannot let it go.

In this case it was quotes. For those of you who have followed my blog, you already know that I have a thing for quotes. Sometimes the quote is my prompt, but more often than not, I am off searching for one that fits what I have written. That approach spilled over into Love Denied, and since I like continuity, it will be part of the entire series.

While there were moments during the search for quotes for Love Abandoned that I wanted to do a head slap, more often than not I tunnelled down the rabbit hole and happily rolled around in the words of Shakespeare and Wordsworth, of Keats and Byron. They paint images of the natural world, explore love and hate, happiness and despair, and probe the depths of what it is to be human. Their cadence, their rhythm call to be read aloud, and I would find myself whispering, lost in the music of their poetry.

However, I include them in my novels, not simply to share their beauty, but to enhance each chapter. And in doing so, I centre my own writing. As I review and revise each chapter, I look for its purpose. What role does it play in the story? Does it reflect the overarching theme? Do we gain insight into a character? Does it focus on a developing emotion? Is it a plot catalyst or a resolution? If I cannot name its goal, then it must be revised or eliminated. When I can name it, I know the essence of the quote that is needed and go off on my treasure hunt.

My husband says he skips such things when he reads. I suspect many do. Still, I am hopeful that I am not alone in enjoying the bards of yore or in looking at connections between pieces of writing—in this case, my chapters and their quotes. I hope like-minded souls enjoy them as much as I do.

LOVE DENIED

If you enjoy historical romance set in Regency-era England, I hope you'll check out Love Denied. It's the first novel in the series Honorable Intentions for Dragonblade Publishing. Release is scheduled for January 28, 2022. In the meantime, please enjoy an excerpt.                                                                               

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This life, which had been the tomb of his virtue and of his honour, is but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more.

~ Shakespeare (Macbeth)

 

Nicholas tugged the bridle, pulling Taurus to a stop, and then slid from the stallion. Relief coursed through his cramped legs. He let the reins drop and brushed at his jacket and trousers, the rising dust tickling his nose, its chalky residue lingering on his tongue. He straightened, rolling his shoulders, and tension rippled down his spine until the muscles in his lower back contracted and released.

The domed roof of the addition to the manse rose above the tree line, the pearl marble gleaming in the sun. It reminded him of the folly, once his pride and joy. His dream of architecture long gone, he wondered if the sight of the folly would still bring pleasure. He glanced in its direction, but it was well-hidden by the forest, cloistered from the world as he’d hoped when he first envisioned it.

Taurus, nostrils flaring, snorted, blowing a warm stream of air across his face. He’d ridden him too hard. He patted the stallion’s neck, the hair moist beneath his hand. “You’re a good man.” A few feet off the main drive, the bridge beckoned. He left the horse knowing it would wait where it stood. Stubborn but loyal. Like Catherine. He scanned the ground for a small rock. Scrub grass and a few pebbles, but nothing worthy of a wish.

His boots clicked against the wood. He stopped midway. It was impossible to tell if the fish were well stocked. There was no sign of movement beneath the surface, but it was a deep lake. He couldn’t remember the last time he held a rod. Such indulgences were probably now and forever relegated to the past. There would be no hours to waste, no idle time to fill. Not that there’d been for years, but he’d always thought leisurely activities would enrich his life once again. And Catherine’s. All dreams included Catherine.

Reaching up, Nicholas ripped the epaulet from his shoulder, clutching it in his fist. He raised it to his mouth and kissed his curled fingers, the rough metallic threads coarse against his lips. “To simple pleasures.” The gold braid plopped ungracefully into the water, tilting awkwardly as it absorbed water. He watched the epaulet sink, wishing it took his shame with it, wanting to bury the last four years under the silt and sludge at the bottom. If only it were that easy.

The special license tucked inside his jacket brought some comfort. He traced its stiff outline, his heart lightening at the promise it held. The far end of the bridge beckoned. It would be so easy to cross it and follow the path to Stratton Hall. To see Catherine. To hold her in his arms again. He drew his shoulders back and pivoted. He knew too well how to stiffen his resolve as well as his back. Pleasure must be delayed for duty. Catherine would have to wait.

The rising specter of Woodfield Park summoned. It was time to face Daniel.