by Roseanna White | Jan 25, 2012 | Remember When Wednesdays, Uncategorized
This past week, I’ve been doing a lot of research. I downloaded about a dozen free e-books to my Kindle, all from the Civil War, mostly memoirs and first-hand accounts. And, of course, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, which I deem it a gross oversight on my part that I’ve never read. (Though I was in The King and I in high school and can’t think of the book without breaking out into song: “Small house of Uncle Thooooooomas, small house of Uncle Thooooooomas, writ-ten by a wo-man, Harriet Beecher Stooooooooooooow-eh.”)
When I first started writing this Civil War book, I thought, “Oh, good. I’ll have two books to write in the next year set in this era. My research will get to double up.”
Except, of course, that these two books are about as different as you can get when set in the same era. In my current one, both hero and heroine and Confederates. From Savannah, with its unique Georgian culture. Under their unique Georgian laws. The other one will have hero and heroine who are both Union sympathizers, though my heroine will be a widow of a secret Confederate. It’s set in Maryland, which had many who left the state to join the Confederacy, but the state itself was basically not allowed to, given the military presence.
Okay, so my fashion research will be able to double up. Otherwise . . . LOL.
And though it means more work for me, I really love how different stories can be when set in the same time. My colonials are good examples of this too.
Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland is set in 1783. Hero and heroine are Patriots, and the heroine even observes that she’s scarcely seen a Tory since the war began, which would have been true of Williamsburg, where she grew up. But in my next book, set in 1780 New York City (or rather, the City of New York as it was called at the time), my heroine is literally surrounded by Loyalists after growing up in a Patriot household on Long Island. Who had control of a place played an enormous part in what that place was like.
In either the Revolutionary or Civil War.
Well, that’s what I’ve been thinking about this past week. 😉 Do you have a particular era you love–and have you noticed the amazing spectrum of perspectives available in it? I’d love to hear about it!
Now back I go to my manuscript. My heroine has just gotten word that the hero is dead. Poor Cordelia!
by Roseanna White | Jan 24, 2012 | Uncategorized
The Merchant’s Daughter
by Melanie Dickerson
All Annabel Chapmen has ever wanted is to become a nun. To set her hands upon a Bible, to read the Holy Writ with her own eyes. To discover if it really says what their village priest claims, that all women are evil, nothing but a snare of Satan. But when her merchant father’s ships were lost, her dream sank too. And when her father died in the pestilence, it seemed the whole future wavered. And now, now the Chapmans are to be held accountable for the last three years of shirking their duties to the lord of the demesne. Her uncaring brother tries to arrange a marriage for her with the nasty Bailiff Tom so that he will pay the fine they owe, but Annabel cannot. She simply cannot.
She would rather accept the penalty for her family and become a servant at the manor of the newly-arrived lord. At least there, no one can force her to become the wife of a lout. Although that lout is far too close for her peace of mind, and continues to follow her around with his lechery and threats. Praise be to the Lord that there is always someone there to provide safety–usually the beastly-looking Lord Ranulf le Wyse.
Ranulf may have lost his eye and injured his arm through an act of heroism, but the resulting injuries have made him repulsive to any female–something he learned the difficult way when he made the mistake of marrying a woman he thought loved him, but who had instead tread upon his heart before succumbing to the pestilence. Best to turn it cold and draw upon the fierce temper everyone expects anyway, given his ghastly appearance. And best to steer clear of all beautiful maidens–especially the lovely new servant who seems to find trouble every time she moves. He will do his best to protect her from those who would hurt her.
But who will protect his scarred-over heart from her?
The Merchant’s Daughter is a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, so there are certain elements you know without doubt will be there. The beastly-looking man whose outside appearance goes hand in hand with a fierce temper . . . but a protective, fair heart. The lovely heroine with a desire for books rather than a husband. The full cast of supporting characters that range from delightful young boy to the menacing would-be suitor.
But it’s also so much more. This is a story that plunged me directly into a world long-since gone, into the heart of a girl who just wanted to see the Scriptures. Just wanted to read them, and couldn’t find a way . . . until she’s forced into a situation she thought could render nothing good. Annabel and Ranulf’s story is one of yearnings restrained and fears made manifest, of sacrificial love and tender emotion. Compelling from the very first page, these characters will win your heart.
It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been able to find the time and energy to read a book in less than a day–in the last year, even really excellent books take me weeks to read. But The Merchant’s Daughter stayed in my hand all morning last Sunday, and I scarcely put it down until I’d finished it. I knew when I spotted it on the shelf that it would give me exactly what I needed–an interesting, involved, beautifully transporting read–and it exceeded my expectations. I read this book in one gulp and loved every second of it!
Billed as a young adult novel, this is one I intend to give to my teenaged niece for her birthday, for sure–but it’s also one that women of all ages will enjoy, especially if they have a love for fairy tales. Melanie Dickerson has done it again with this amazing medieval romance, and I just can’t recommend it enough.
So go! Order one, pick one up off the shelf, borrow one–whatever you have to do to get your hands on it–you’ll thank me. So I’ll just say “you’re welcome” now. 😉
by Roseanna White | Jan 23, 2012 | Word of the Week
This ranks as one of those “who’d a thunk?” late arrivals to the English language. Not in every sense, of course, but I think you’ll be surprised by some of the years on this!
Okay, so “show” as in act or performance is as old as you might expect, coming from the 1300s. And an appearance put on to deceive, or an ostentatious display are from the 1500s. As a verb, it’s even older, though with a twist unique to English. Ours evolved into a meaning of “to make known” in the 1200s, but the correlating word in other languages still carried its original meaning of “to look at.”
But some of the meanings we use most often are the ones that’ll get you.
Did you know, for instance, that “show up” didn’t come along until 1888? That’s after “show biz” which is from the 1850s! And it’s even after “I’ll show you!” That particular meaning comes from the 1820s.
Interesting, huh? =)
Hope everyone has a great Monday!
by Roseanna White | Jan 19, 2012 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
Yesterday in our homeschool Bible reading, we got to one of the best-known stories of Elijah–where he challenged the 450 priests of Baal to an alter competition. (Okay, my words, not theirs, LOL.) You remember it, I’m sure. The priests of Baal build their alter, put on their bullock, pray and pray and pray to Baal for fire to come down from heaven and light the alter.
Nothing. I love this story partially because of how Elijah taunts them. Can’t you just see that wily smile as he says, “Maybe your god’s asleep. Or on vacation. Cry louder.”
And they do, LOL. Then, of course, after that fails, Elijah builds his alter on the exact spot it should have been all these years, puts on his bullock, and has TWELVE barrels of water dumped onto the alter. Now, it hasn’t rained for years and years at this point, so that was probably some precious stuff. Elijah prayed, and fire swooshed down from heaven, devoured the offering, the water, and the very stones.
AWESOME.
But something new jumped out at me yesterday. After the priests of Baal were killed, after everyone fled, Elijah and his servant prayed again. See, it was time for the promised rain to come. Time for the drought to end. Time to bring relief for the people.
So Elijah fell to his knees and beseeched God. God, the Lord, who had just an hour earlier sent heavenly fire for him. God, the Lord, who had led him here. God, the Lord, who had promised, “And then you’ll pray again, and I’ll send the rains.”
Elijah prayed. And his servant looked out over the sea and said, “Nothing. Not a cloud on the horizon.”
So Elijah prayed again. Still, there was nothing. So he prayed again. And again. And again. And again. Each time, his servant went to check the horizon. Each time, he saw . . . absolutely . . . nothing.
This is what hit me. Seven times Elijah had to pray before that mist began to rise out of the sea. Seven times! Do you think he was wondering what was taking so long? I mean, the fire had been immediate. So why the wait now? Why was God not listening? Had He changed His mind and not told Elijah? Can you imagine that prophet looking over his shoulder and thinking, “Wow, glad all those priests aren’t watching this now.”
Okay, so Elijah may not have had those thoughts, LOL, but I probably would have. I probably would have thought round about prayer number four, “God, You promised! You promised!! ‘Pray for rain,’ You said, ‘and I’ll make it rain.’ Well, I’m praying–so where’s the rain?!”
But Elijah was faithful. We don’t know how long each of these prayers was, but I have a feeling it was a little more in depth than, “Oh, Lord, please let it rain!” 😉 This man was prostrate before the Lord, begging. Begging for the rains to come.
What if he had given up? What if he said, “Sigh. Maybe the Lord doesn’t want me to be a prophet anymore.”? Had he only prayed, say, five times, what would have become of Israel?
Doubt, discouragement is natural–the very next day, when Elijah hears that Jezebel is out to kill him, he forgets to pray and just runs. Runs. Even though God sent the fire, sent the rain, Elijah doesn’t even think to ask him to save his life. But God catches up with him on the mountain he runs to, after sustaining him during the run.
God’s always there while we’re running. He’s there while we’re hiding in the cave. He’s there while we’re praying, stirring up the mists, even though we can’t see them yet. He’s there. Not in the whirlwind, not in the earthquake . . . in the whisper. In the whisper is the voice of the Lord, just waiting for us to quiet up enough to hear Him. Waiting for us to listen. Waiting for us to wait upon Him.
How many times have we prayed for the same thing? How many times do we not see it happen and get discouraged?
But the Lord is stirring up the mists in the sea while we pray. He’s working in the mysteries we can’t understand, working within our world, our time, our reality so that everything will line up just so for us. We can’t see all that–our eyes are only human.
But He’s there. Preparing the rain.
Our part is to stay on our knees until we see it.
by Roseanna White | Jan 18, 2012 | Remember When Wednesdays, Uncategorized
Tableux Vivant.
Sounds pretty, doesn’t it? French often does, after all. =) And after taking a few years of it, I know upon seeing this phrase that it means something like “living picture.” I also knew when I read that these tableaux were often put on in the 1800s that it was some kind of performance, and that they were used as fundraisers in the South during the war.
As for what kind of performance–yeah, I had no clue. So if you do already, you’re a step ahead of where I was a couple months ago. 😉
My first thought was that it was a play. In fact, my assumption was that it was a play, and I started writing it into my story as if it were. My heroine was preparing a script, casting her friends in the roles. Then something went “clang clang clang!” in my brain, and I thought, “Hmmm, I’d better actually look that up.”
Good thing I did! Some quick research showed me that a tableau vivant is something unique. The performers would select a well-known painting or other work of art (statuary, etc.) and then mimic it. Strike a pose to imitate it, their costuming reflecting the original work of art, and a narrator would say something about it. Then there would be a change of scenes, and the performers would move into another pose, another painting.
Pretty neat, huh? Of course, it threw a wrench into my plan for my writer-heroine to be putting her brilliant wordsmithing to work . . . so I had to get creative–er, have her get creative. 😉 In my story, my heroine, Cordelia, writes a story to pull together these well-known paintings and has gathered all her friends together (those left in the city, that is–most had already fled inland, away from those blasted Yankees) to strike the poses. Their goal–to raise funds for the Confederacy. It is, of course, a smashing success.
Tableaux are still put on today, so some of you are probably familiar with this interesting type of performance. But I can honestly say none of them had made it to my neck of the woods, so it was fun and interesting to learn about them, and integrate them into my story. Vive les tableaux!
Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award winning author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. When not writing fiction, she’s homeschooling her two kids, editing, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her books…to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary.