Down the Rabbit Hole

I was going to title this “I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Get Up!” but the reference to Alice in Wonderland is more appropriate to the surprise and wonder I feel when I plunge into research. It’s a freefall and, tumbling joyfully, I snatch at details that are enlightening, deeply moving and delightfully entertaining, tucking them away for use in my novel or for that lull in a dinner party that just needs to be filled with something.

Let’s look at plot potential. I tripped across John Pattin, a mapmaker, trader, and all-around curious explorer from the 18^th century. He managed to get arrested in 1750 for encroaching on French territory. Held in no less than 6 strongholds of New France before being sent to France, he was not only freed but managed to secure restitution for losses as well. Pattin promptly returned to the colonies and drew up plans, for the British, of all of the French forts where he had stayed. Now that’s a character I can work with—adventurous, savvy and, depending on the lens, incredibly loyal or wonderfully manipulative and deceitful.

Then, there’s Elizabeth Couc. Too early for Crossroads, but I'm sure I can work her story in somewhere. Cadillac describes her as a woman “kept by more than a hundred men.” Now, how could I resist finding out more about her after a declaration like that? Reality show scripts read dry in comparison to this real life, multi-husband woman from the 17^th century.

As for the dinner party conversation, it would be all about the beaver. Yup, that crazy little furry river critter that was so sought after in the 18^th century. The economy in the Ohio Valley, in 1750, was wrapped up in the beaver. So much so that the beaver pelt was considered currency.

 

The skin of the buck or male beaver was worth four livres, twice as much as the skin of the doe

beaver. It is the buck that came to be recognized as the money unit, and is used to this day as slang for a dollar. It would be interesting to find out if the word "dough" for money comes from the homonym "doe," worth half a buck. (from The Windsor Border Region)

I don’t know about elsewhere in the world, but bringing up beaver at dinner in Canada just might cause a few forks to clatter and chip the good china. How wonderful that I can smile graciously with feigned oblivion, and explain how we owe our current currency slang to that charming woodland creature. J
  

 

Anachronism: something or someone that is not in its correct historical or chronological time

My characters are fiction, and how their lives unfold is completely a figment of my imagination. However, they live in a world that was, peppered with people who were, and are influenced by events the actually occurred. I research endlessly and thoroughly, keen to be historically accurate. I also strive to keep those real people as true to their actions and personalities as I can, based on what written accounts of their lives and actions exist.

That is the easy part of writing historical fiction. The harder part is spotting anachronistic language in my writing. Take for example, angst. Visually, it’s an odd word, looks rather old. Yet, it didn’t come into common language until the mid-19^th century—one hundred years too late for Raven’s Path. Now, when you spot it, it’s an easy fix. Anxiety hit the streets in the 16^th century. That works. Although, tread cautiously if you are writing in an earlier period than mine; anxious and its varied incarnations as adjective, adverb or noun, did not join anxiety until the 17^th century.

I’ve gotten quite used to writing a word, getting a nettlesome feeling about it and heading off to the etymology dictionary to confirm its origin. It happened the other day while writing the sequel to Raven’s Path (tentatively titled Crossroads). Ana tripped, smacking down on her knee and I wrote “Ow!” It looked modern, so off I trekked to check. As an expression of surprise, 14^th century, as one of pain, not until 1919! Hers was definitely a pain reaction, so that would not do. Ouch? 1837. Where to now?

What does one say when experiencing sudden pain? More precisely, what does one say in 1750? I could write grunted, groaned, screamed, yelled—you get the idea—but I found those too passive for the moment. I actually Googled “expressions for pain” and came across an oddly interesting article, The Language of Pain.

This language of pain has no consonants, but consists only of vowels: ow! aiee! oy! oh! These are the sounds the sufferer makes, each punctuated by grunts, hiccoughs, sobs, moans, gasps. It is a self-absorbed language that might have been the first ever uttered by prehistoric man. Perhaps it was learned from animals. These howled vowels have the eloquence of the wild, the uncivilized, the atavistic. Comprehension is instantaneous, despite the absence of what we call words. It is a mode of expression beyond normal language. Nor could it be made more passionate or revelatory by the most gifted writer. Not even by Shakespeare.

Another anachronistic crisis averted. Get rid of the consonants. Now, if only that simple rule applied to other anachronisms.J

NaNo

November 1-30 is National Novel Writing Month, often referred to as NaNo. Writers around the world sign up, inspired by the challenge and friendly sense of competition, to write 50,000 words within thirty days. Two years ago I played along on a writer’s forum, in what we called Mini-NaNo, with a goal of 25, 000 words. I managed approximately 30,000. I was working full time, so I was pleased with that accomplishment. 

This year I officially signed up, fully intending to run the gauntlet, but have since bailed. I thought it would be just the kick-start I need for the sequel to Raven’s Path. My husband thought otherwise. Apparently, I become a little obsessive under deadlines and he’d rather that I be willing to leave the computer once in a while and enter the real world. And, spend some time with him. After almost 30 years together, how can I not be charmed by a man who wants me to be present in his life?

So, no official Nano for me. I wish all fellow writers a great month of November and the best of luck if you are participating in Nano. I will strive to write as much as I can in the coming month and will post my count here. But, if the number does not go up exponentially, know that I am sipping a glass of wine, watching winter burgeon beyond the window, snuggled warm and safe in the arms of the most endearing man I've ever known.

In Praise of Praise

I took a course last week at RWA (Romance Writers of America).  The course, facilitated by Tessa Dare, was Writing Historical Romance for the Modern Reader.  Tessa led us through an exploration on the influence of pop culture, etiquette, customs, gender roles and sex, historical vs modern language and incorporating historical events, people and places. 

All of it was fabulous stuff, providing fodder for thought.  Tessa’s insight and experience sparked much conversation and other members contributed thought-provoking responses that added to the level of learning.  The section on language and dialogue had me hunting through Raven’s Path with an eye to ensuring I had not overwhelmed the reader with colloquial dialogue.  I was very satisfied and stimulated by my new learnings. 

Then, it got better.

The final assignment was to write a summary that “reflects your niche in the historical romance subgenre.”  I did and this was the response.

Rose, thank you so much for being part of the course! Just from this message alone, I know I love your voice. So many beautiful turns of phrase: "history the soft shimmer of backdrop." - lovely! I wish you the best of luck with both of your projects.

Tessa

The course was great but the praise—wow—now that’s motivating, especially coming from an author I respect and enjoy.  As a beginning writer, I sit in my own little world, isolated, full of hope and self-doubt.  When grey thoughts crowd in, I will pull out this simple paragraph and remind myself that someone has seen a glimmer of talent.  And that glimmer can begin to twinkle, burn brighter and glow blazingly somewhere in the universe that is my future.

Genre. Such a little word, such a big decision.

What genre classification is Raven’s Path? 

Set in the Ohio Valley in 1750, it revolves around real events and real people.  Ana and Brandan, however, are entirely fictional.  Their relationship is a primary focus and there is a satisfying ending.  It’s just that it’s not tied up neatly in a ribbon.  Threads are left drifting in the wind.  It is intended as the first in a trilogy.

Diana Gabaldon, who resists the classification of romance for her Outlander series despite the relationship development between Jamie and Claire, points out that “Real romances don’t have sequels, because once the couple are firmly together, the story’s over.”  Of course Diana’s books, I think, actually defy classification and should be given a genre all their own.

Surfing for further clarification merely added to the confusion.  One site said that if you take the romance out, the story should stand alone if it’s truly historical fiction.  Well, dang, the leftovers in Raven’s Path would be a sad, dry little tale.  It is the characters who breathe life into the historical events.  Others say it is historical fiction, quite simply, if you have used real events and people.  But, can’t you have those in a wonderful little happily-ever-after romance too?

Over at Janice Hardy’s Fiction University I found this breakdown:

Romance
The love story is the primary focus of the book, and there is a happily ever after. Getting two people together is what the book is all about.

Historical Romance
Romance novels set in any time period prior to 1945, and taking place in any location.

Historical
Takes place during a real period of history and deals with real events and details, even though the story is fictional.

Clear as mud, right?  I do believe I have written a Historical, Historical Romance. J

All I know for sure is that last week’s separation anxiety has been resolved.  I do not wish to say goodbye to Ana and Brandan at this time.  And, so, my journey with them will continue.  Book two, here I come.

Oh, and if anyone has any sage advice on what to label Raven’s Path, it would be much appreciated. J

Letting Go

I marathoned this week.  I know, not a real verb, but it works better than using it as a noun because I didn’t run a marathon, I sat one, in front of my computer.  I had planned on winding up revision on Raven’s Path by mid-October.  I finished on the 2^nd.  Euphoria swept through the house.  I shouted, my husband cheered and the dogs romped with joy at the noise—and at the fact that I was finally getting up off the couch.

Thanks to beta readers from Germany to California, Raven’s Path is stronger and leaner.  I culled over 4,000 words, leaving it now at 118,000 words.  I have tightened my characters, analyzed dialogue, added beats, taken out beats, looked for too much tell and replaced with show, searched my “ly’s” and my “felts”.   Check, check and more check.  I’m done.

So, what’s next?  Seek representation?  Look at publishing houses directly?  Self-publish?  It’s not that I haven’t done my research on all of the above, I just haven’t quite made a decision.  I tossed and turned all night.  In the morning, I decided to put it back on the proverbial shelf.  I’ll go through it one more time, in a month or so.  Will I find anything earth-shattering to work on?  I doubt it. 

Maybe I’m afraid of the next step.  After all, this one is my first born.  Maybe, I’m just not ready to let it go.

Judicious: having, exercising, or characterized by good or discriminating judgment; wise, sensible, or well-advised

Well, having touted the strength of a book, I now need to add a qualifier.  Use it judiciously.  Self-Editing for Fiction Writers actually promotes judiciousness.  Quite simply it supports:

“Judicious omission is preferable to correct superfluity.” Walter Kidde

It dedicates a chapter to dialogue mechanics.  Simple yet brilliant stuff.  Don’t write, “she asked” if the dialogue is clearly a question.  Don’t say “he repeated” when it is evident that the man has already said the words.  Don’t say that they yelled it, ensure the dialogue makes it clear that they have done so.  Do not say they laughed, sighed, barked, snapped, whined, simpered, or a myriad of other qualifiers; make sure your dialogue is strong enough, quick enough, deep enough, clever enough to convey those things.  It should need no help. 

Working through Raven’s Path, I have kept this in mind.  I have worked to eliminate the superfluous qualifiers.  But it gets hard.  Sometimes, I can’t write dialogue that conveys a whisper, a sigh, gruffness or a moan and yet it is essential to set the tone or to a mood shift.   I can’t convey that a man has a loud booming voice regardless of what he says unless I tell reader that he boomed, he barked, he shouted. Unless, of course I use multiple exclamation points, which would become quickly tiresome to a reader.  Avidly following the advice, I have stripped the last fifty pages, leaving some important dialogue scenes flopping futilely, fish upon the shore.

What to do when the self-help books aren’t helping you anymore?  Go to the experts—the well-respected, well-loved and well-selling novelists.  I took out Diana Gabaldon’s latest, Written in My Own Heart’s Blood.  Have I mentioned I adore her writing?  A random flip brought me:

(Pages 404/405)

“What shall we do, Papa?” Germain whispered.

“No,” he said, firmly but with some regret (My goodness is that an adverb and telling?)

“Come,” he said more gently, (Yes, yes!  Another adverb!)

“They, who?” he’d said sharply (Again!  Be still my creative writing teacher’s heart!)

“With whom?” he asked, curious.

I am on the floor at this point, kicking my feet in glee—in that last one, the question mark clearly says it’s a question, and we should be shown he’s curious, not told he is.  Besides, does not a question in and of itself imply curiosity?  Yet, Diana does it explicitly.  And, you know what.  I like it.  It works for me.  Never once have I stumbled in her writing trying to figure out what is going on.  Oh, she also smoothly intersperses lots of beats, but she has no problem making sure that we know something was asked, repeated, whispered or said softly or quietly.  It is expedient and keeps the dialogue flowing.

The word judicious rolled through my mind again.  I stand by my assertion that Self-Editing for Fiction Writers is a great book to have in hand at the revision stage.  I agree that I need to weed out too many qualifiers and adverbs.  But, they do have their place.  And other experts have proven that.

 So, in light of this latest revelation, in homage to the writers who illuminate the way, here is my preferred judicious quote:

“Originality is nothing but judicious imitation. The most original writers borrowed one from another. The instruction we find in books is like fire. We fetch it from our neighbor's, kindle it at home, communicate it to others, and it becomes the property of all.”  Voltaire