Word of the Week – Aspirin

Word of the Week – Aspirin

No, I don’t have a headache. Not today. 😉 But this a word I’d looked up to make sure I could use it in a 1914 setting, so I thought I’d share the interesting pharmaceutical history that went along with it.

Aspirin was a trademarked name, created in 1899 by German chemist Heinrich Dreser. It’s from the Latin spiraea, or “meadow-sweet,” the plant from which it’s derived.

Here’s the interesting bit. According to German law, prescriptions had to be filled exactly as written. So chemist companies would trademark very easily-made drugs that were made from common items, using household names for things that were easy for doctors to remember. Doctors would then write a prescription, and they would have to be filled as written. No generics for them! So these companies were then making a lot of money from very simple items.

I find it interesting that, in the U.S. at least, “aspirin” is certainly not considered a brand name; it’s the rather generic name for that type of medicine, which any company can then make. I wonder if the same is true these days in Germany…

~*~

On a totally unrelated note, the paperback of A Stray Drop of Blood is finally available on Amazon again!

Remember When . . . The London Shadows Series

Remember When . . . The London Shadows Series

Many of you probably saw this on Facebook on Monday, but in case you missed it . . . I’m super-excited to share that my next series (beginning July 2017) has its official titles!

The series itself will be called London Shadows.

I love this. My editor recommended something that has “London” in it as immediate branding of the setting, and after toying with a few ideas for a few days, this is what I came up with, and I’m so glad they liked it. The “London” comes because, though the majority of the books aren’t actually set in London, my main characters are all from there, and it greatly affects who they are. Because they’re not upper-crust London-dwellers. They’re former urchins . . . they’re the underbelly of London . . . they are the shadows. Not to mention that the name hints at the mystery and suspense that will be threaded through the series, and, if you’re getting very deep into it, the shadow of war over all of Great Britain in 1914.

So that’s the series . . . but what about each book?

My original plan was for The Name Thief, The Music Thief, and The Time Thief. I liked these quite a bit, but the team at Bethany House wanted the titles to immediately evoke the era, and while these sound cool, they certainly don’t scream “historical romance!” A very valid point. So I sent in a list of alternative titles for each book, and I’m thrilled with the ones they decided on:

 These sound much more historical-romancey . . . plus they have the same rhythm as The Lost Heiress, The Reluctant Duchess, and A Lady Unrivaled, which should give readers a sense of continuity as we switch to the new series. Which means I’m one very happy girl. =D

A Name Unknown will release next July (2017), following thief Rosemary Gresham as she leaves London for a job unlike any she’s done before–she has to steal a man’s good name. She heads to Cornwall (where I will be heading in September, SQUEEE!) to the home of Peter Holstein, suspected German spy. But what she finds is a man who stutters so badly he can barely speak, not one filling important ears with German sentiments. She finds a man with secrets, but with a faith unlike anything she’s ever seen. What she finds is a good man . . . and so how can she steal his good name? Peter, meanwhile, is debating changing his name to the nom de plume he uses for his popular adventure novels that he writes in secret. But would even that convince his neighbors to trust him and remind them that he is English at heart? As he digs into his family history with Rosemary’s help, he seeks to discover why his family first left Germany to begin with . . . and whether it will ever again be enough to be simply Peter Holstein.

I’m just now doing my research for book 2, A Song Unheard. This one will focus on Rosemary’s “sister” Willa Forsythe, who is sent to Wales in autumn of 1914 to infiltrate the Belgian Symphony Orchestra, who was brought to Wales by two wealthy sisters to save them from the German occupation of Belgium and bring arts to their principality. Willa, a violin prodigy who has never had a day of training in her life, is eager to rub elbows with these world-class musicians . . . even if her true purpose there is to steal from one of them, so that he’s forced to accept the help of her boss in getting his super-intelligent little sister out of Brussels . . . and into British Intelligence. Among lessons in music, hints of the Belgian Resistance, and a foray into Belgium to steal his sister for him, Willa and violinist Lukas will learn more about themselves than they ever thought they could . . . and unleash music inside Willa capable of soothing more souls than just her own.

The final book is just barely an idea, LOL. An Hour Unspent will feature the older brother of my clan of thieves, Barclay Pearce. He will be issued a challenge to steal an hour from Big Ben’s clock tower, and his research in how to do so will take him to the door of the clock-maker who helps care for the iconic clock–and, inadvertently, to the aid of this clock-maker’s daughter, Evelina, a suffragette who is frustrated at how the war is stifling her cause. This one will delve into how clock-makers found new uses for their talents in this time of war, helping to create weapons rather than timepieces, and also on how these fierce suffragettes turned their attention to the war effort as well . . . and accomplished more for their cause in so doing than any of their marches or rallies had ever achieved.

I’m so excited for this series!!! And will soon be launching a contest related to A Song Unheard, so stay tuned for that (tuned . . . ha. Punny.).

Word of the Week – Ballet

Word of the Week – Ballet

This past weekend was full of ballet for my family, as my daughter danced in her theater’s spring show, La Fille Mal Gardée.

I’ve never looked up where the word ballet comes from because, well…it’s obviously French, right?

As it turns out, yes and no. The English word–which dates from the 1660s!–does indeed come from the French ballette. (I find it interesting that we say it as the French would if it were a masculine noun, but the word it comes from is feminine, and that T would have been pronounced. Does anyone speak French and know if they still use the -ette ending or if they’ve also changed it to -et over the years?) But that French word came, in fact, from Italian.

The Italian root is ballo, which just means “a dance.” This is also where our ball comes from.

Though the word has been in use for a long time, from what I can see in the history of other ballet words (jete, plie, arabesque, etc.), the form we know and recognize today seems to have taken shape in the 1820-30s.

Made super-famous, of course, by the Ballet Russe, which of course everyone knows from reading The Lost Heiress–and you won’t want to miss A Lady Unrivaled, which features the ballet even more. 😉

Not that any of those prima ballerinas could possibly be as beautiful as my sweet Xoë. (Biased?? What do you mean???)

Thoughtful About . . . The Mismatched

Thoughtful About . . . The Mismatched

When I got married, I filled out a registry. A wish list. It had on it all the things one would expect–dishes and cookware, sheets and towels.

All of them, sets. Matching.

Off-white plates with flowers around the edges. Matching cups. A set of cutlery. Glasses that complemented. Things designed carefully to look good beside each other. That wore a uniform. That were all the same in their perfection.

Over the years, plates and bowls and glasses have gotten broken. Cutlery has, somehow or another, vanished. This piece and that piece have been lent out and forgotten. Over the years, our collection of dishes has been subtracted from and added to.

Now it’s a hodgepodge. It’s a mixture. A motley array of mismatched this-and-that.

And I love it.

I’ve heard before (though I don’t honestly remember from whom) the statement, “I just want dishes that match!” At the time, I commiserated. This seems like a good thing, you know?

But when I pause to think about it . . . which coffee cup is my favorite? The Disney mug I bought for myself when I was 14. The one that has no match. Is part of no set. The one that’s unique. It fits my hand, and I like how much it holds. I’ve even caught myself, when in a rental house for vacation or in my church kitchen, always seeking out a mug that’s different. That won’t be confused with anyone else’s. That’s unique and inviting.

Still, I was somewhat surprised when my kids, a couple years ago, began the following conversation:

Rowyn: “Can I have that spoon instead of this one? That one’s my favorite.”
Xoe: “Really? I don’t have a favorite spoon. But I have a favorite fork. It’s the one with the stars on it.”
Rowyn: “You can have that one. I like the little one with the flowers.”

I smiled as I heard them talking oh-so-seriously about which of the mismatched cutlery they preferred. Why?

Because they both favored the unique pieces. The one-of-a-kind ones. Yes, that’s part of it.

But also because only then did I realize that their favorites were my least favorites. That the ones that don’t please me aesthetically for one reason or another, they find beautiful.

And that this is something I never would have learned in this particular way if all my silverware still matched.

When we’re surrounded by the same, we’re not given the chance to find our preferences. When we have only that perfect set, there isn’t room for individuality. When everything matches, nothing stands out. Not that there’s anything wrong with a matching set of dishes, LOL. It’s certainly a handy way to buy something you need.

But there’s something so beautiful in the mismatched. There’s something freeing. Something encouraging.

Because I don’t know about you, but I don’t quite fit in a set. Right? We’re all a little different. A little off. A little bigger or smaller or cracked. We’re different colors. Different shapes.

And that’s how we’re supposed to be. Because different people find different things beautiful. We have different needs. My favorite will not be yours, necessarily. And that’s good. That’s right. We all appreciate different facets of this beautiful world. For different reasons that invite us in different ways.

God didn’t create much of anything in neat, orderly sets. He created a wild profusion of beauty. He created the this-and-that. The hodgepodge. Mismatched. Mountains and valleys, rivers and seas, deserts and rain forests. And He declared it good.

I’ll probably never have a matching set of dishes again, much less cutlery or glasses. And you know what?

It’s good.

Word of the Week – Crevice and Crevasse

Word of the Week – Crevice and Crevasse

The other night, my husband asked if crevice and crevasse were the same word. I, being the spelling nerd that I am, quickly replied that they were spelled differently, and insisted that crevice was a small crack and crevasse a large one.

But . . . it did seem like a bit of a coincidence, so I went to look it up. And discovered that, in fact, hubby and I were both right. They’re spelled differently, and the meanings are what I said–but they’re also the same word.

Both trace their roots to the French crevasse, which means simply a gap or crack. But over the centuries, crevice (the English spelling) took on a smaller and smaller meaning . . . so in the 1800s, people went back to the original word, crevasse, to stand in for those BIG gaps and cracks, like in glaciers or river banks.

I love it when we’re both right. 😉

And Happy Memorial Day! I’m saying a prayer today for all those veterans and family members of veterans who have served our country. I owe you a debt of gratitude. Your sacrifices will not be forgotten.