by Roseanna White | Apr 11, 2012 | Remember When Wednesdays, Uncategorized
Last week I was chatting with a mother and daughter who had read and loved Love Finds You in Annapolis, Maryland, and they mentioned how much they love Wiley. Which, of course, made me realize I’d better finish up that proposal for a sequel wherein he’d be the hero so my agent can get it out to my editor. See if we can get the publisher to agree that a story about Wiley would just be perfect. 😉
Thinking about that so soon after trying to figure out an actor to represent Thad, hero from my second Culper Ring book, made me realize that one of my potential Thads would in fact be the perfect Wiley. So sorry, all you fans of James Paul Marsden–he’s out of the running for Thad and gets the distinction of being my fun-loving, fiercely loving Wiley Benton. =)
For those of you who have read
Annapolis, you know Wiley pretty well. On the whole, he’s a fun fellow. He himself says in Lark’s story that he detests being in a foul mood–it doesn’t suit him. Wiley would much rather be laughing, teasing, joking . . . but when someone he loves is threatened or hurt, then you’d better watch out. Because underneath the smiles, Wiley is a warrior who knows how to fight to win.
Also in
Annapolis, Emerson accuses Lark of being like her brother, ready to charge into battle like a hothead, not caring about the consequences. Well obviously, I couldn’t let that go ignored when plotting out Wiley’s story. We’re going to see plenty of his fun-loving, gentle side. And we’re also going to see Lieutenant Benton charge into action–and nearly lose all he was fighting for because of it.
The funny thing is that while I was searching for some historical events to anchor this story around, I realized that
nothing . . . happened in the year 1784, after the signing of the Treaty of Paris. Nothing happened in 1785. Or in ’86. Or . . . you get the idea, LOL. There were things, of course, just not that could reasonably have a part in a story set in Williamsburg. And given how history played a HUGE role in
Annapolis, that was kinda frustrating.
But then I stumbled across some fun little tidbits. Like, did you know that Virginia passed an act in ’83 freeing any slaves who had served in the Revolution on their masters’ behalf? But some were denied because they were in intelligence and not just regular soldiers. Hmm . . . I can work with that. Not that Wiley’s slaves could have gone in his place, as he was there himself, but still . . . I can work with that.
And also interesting was when I looked up the College of William and Mary, which is in Williamsburg. It has some fun traditions dating back to before the Revolution, including the very first Greek-letter fraternity, a secret society that wanted to take fraternities back to their roots of academic excellence and away from revelry. (Yeah, um . . . whatever happened to that? LOL) Naturally, Wiley has to have been one of the founding members back in ’76, before the war took him away. Fun, eh? Secret handshakes and all that jazz.
And so my Wiley has a face and a story. Not that we have any idea if that story will be snatched up by my publisher, but let’s hope so. Because oh, this guy deserves his love story. And boy, is he going to get one, with the most unlikely of heroines . . . 😉
by Roseanna White | Apr 5, 2012 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
We’re doing a study of the cross at church, and last week as we discussed how Jesus knew all his life where he was headed, knew that he was to be the Servant talked about in Isaiah 53, the one that would justify the world.
He knew, always knew, that he would have to die. And not just die, but die for out sins.
Today is Maundy Thursday (just looked up Maundy, which means “Last Supper,” go figure), the day Jesus and his disciples gathered in that upper room for the Passover meal. My church will be having a messianic seder this evening, as a matter of fact. Jesus shed new meaning on the old ritual that night, didn’t he? He offered new interpretations of what they’d all done every year forever. He opened their eyes to the fact that he was fulfilling parts of the ceremony that were prophecy.
He washed their feet, showing what a Servant should do. He gave them a new commission, a new commandment.
Then he went out to the garden to pray.
That prayer–wow. It’s the most heart-wrenching, gut-twisting prayer in the gospels to me. He knows exactly what’s coming. He knows why it’s coming. And he dreads it. So much that he asks the Father to take this cup from him, if it’s possible. But above all, he wants the will of God.
Though I’ve dwelt on this prayer a lot, I’d never before questioned why he wanted the cup taken from him. It makes perfect sense, after all. Right? Who would want to go to the cross? Who wouldn’t pray to be saved from such an agonizing death, if there were another way to achieve the same ends?
But a new thought occurred to me this weekend. Was it the death Jesus dreaded so? The physical pain, those terrible hours?
Or was it the sin he dreaded?
See, it wasn’t just that Jesus knew the “what” of what was coming–it had a purpose. And pain with purpose is easier to face. We can go through birth because we know it’s how a baby enters the world. People jump in front of moving cars if it saves the child they push out of the way. So the pain . . . yes, I’m sure it gave Jesus pause.
But what really causes Jesus pain? What makes his heart twist throughout the gospels? What always seems to get to him most?
Sin. Separation from the Father.
Think about it. All his life, Jesus has been blameless. Sinless. Perfect. And that is a big part of why he’s one with God. There’s nothing to separate them. He can approach the throne even from earth, because he has done no wrong to keep him away.
But the cross, to Jesus, wouldn’t just represent false punishment or torture. He knew well that when he took that punishment, he was the sacrificial lamb. He was taking the sins.
And oh, the sins. Can you imagine looking, in a few short hours, at every single sin in history? Every…single…sin. The lies and betrayals, the murders and rapes–piled on his shoulders. The infidelities and idolatries, the outright worship of Satan and demons–all on him. He, who had never once sinned, whose heart grieved whenever he saw a sin in us, would be under that weight. All that weight. Guilty, in that moment, of the most heinous crimes. Guilty of blaspheming the Father he loved above all. Guilty of everything. Everything.
That, I think, is what made him sweat blood in the garden. That is what made him say, “Father, must I? Is there no other way?” That, far more than physical agony, is the pain that Jesus feared. After all, it could have been any kind of death, right? And it would have sufficed. The sacrifice didn’t require a cross.
But I daresay Jesus still would have prayed that prayer, even if facing a lethal injection. Not because of the physical, not because of the death.
Because of the sin.
Thank you, Jesus, for facing that unfathomable, crushing mountain of weight upon your shoulders for me. Thank you for taking my sins on yourself that day so long ago. Thank you for loving me so much that you faced it, even knowing it would mean the agony of separation from your Father. You did it so that I might draw near to Him.
Never can I thank you enough for that. But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying.
by Roseanna White | Apr 4, 2012 | Remember When Wednesdays, Uncategorized
I usually post a Remember When more appropriate to the Resurrection season this week, but every thought I have about it today I discover I’ve already posted about, LOL. So I’ll get reflective tomorrow, but today we’ll keep talking about whatever I’ve been researching.
A small excitement I had recently was getting the enthusiastic go-ahead from Harvest House to plan a novella to use for promotional purposes between the releases of
Ring of Secrets and its sequel, tentatively titled
Mask of Truth. This story will be the happily-ever-after of a character from
Ring of Secrets, the second book being about his daughter.
So as I started thinking about what could happen in this snippet of a story, I realized I still needed to have the tension of war–given that it’s in all the other stories. And I knew approximately when I’d need this book to be set. So an idea niggled, I did a wee bit of research, and I commenced grinning.
The French Revolution. Perfect.
Most of the Revolution was a bit too late for me, but those first days of it would be just perfect. My hero, though British, could make his way into France as a favor to a friend. The favor being to find this friend’s estranged wife and daughter and bring them back to England before the violence he suspected was brewing could erupt.
So of course, my hero does. And of course, he finds the daughter, my heroine. And of course, they’re going to fall in love. But, of course, that brewing violence is going to spew over just in time to cause some difficulty. Climax around the storming of the Bastille, anyone?? 😉
I’m going to have to do some whirlwind research about the French Revolution for this one, but I’m looking forward to writing this character’s romance. =) He deserves his happily ever after. Of course, after fighting in the American Revolution, his first thought upon ending up in France during theirs is going to something along the lines of, “Another revolution? Really? Grrroooooooaaaaaaannnnn.” LOL
by Roseanna White | Mar 29, 2012 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
“An original writer is not one who imitates nobody, but one whom nobody can imitate.” ~ Francois Rene Chateaubriand
Last Friday my friends and family surprised me with a celebration for me and my books, and it was such a fun party, filled with such beautiful elements, that I just have to share. =)
My day had been dedicated to cleaning. I pulled on a shirt I’d just found shoved between two others in my closet, which I’d been looking for for months–the one my best friend sent me for my birthday a year and a half ago, that says “Reading Is Sexy.” Oh yeah, that’s me. LOL. Then I got down to business. I dusted. I straightened. I swept. I scrubbed. All with the knowledge that doing so would make my sciatica shoot pain all through my back and hips that night. It always, always does. See, this is why I don’t clean! 😉
“Imagination and fiction make up more than three-quarters of our real life.” ~ Simone Weil
As David was headed out to run an errand, he paused at the door to say, “Hey, think about if you’d like to go to dinner tonight or something. I could use a good dinner and a nice glass of wine.”
Me, giving him The Look. “Honey, do I ever pass up going out to dinner?”
David: “Well, think about where you’d like to go. Someplace where we can sit back and relax.”
Which meant not fast-food–got it. I got back to work, scrubbing etc. And luckily started to get a headache in late afternoon, which prompted me to take some ibuprofen–something I otherwise never think to do for other pain, though I’m pretty sure that’s what saved me from hobbling around all evening going, “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.”
“The creative person is flexible–he is able to change as the situation changes, to break habits, to face indecision and changes in conditions without undue stress. He is not threatened by the unexpected as rigid, inflexible people are.” ~ Frank Goble
Round about 5, I started looking at the clock. David was on the phone (not an unusual occurrence) but he hadn’t mentioned anything else about dinner. Did I need to cook? I assumed not. I’m good at that assumption. 😉 Eventually he came up to shower. Xoe asked if I’d put Egyptian eyes on her with my eyeliner–sure, why not!–so I slapped some makeup on myself as well and said, “I guess I should change out of my t-shirt.” Though I didn’t. Not until David was headed back downstairs to “take care of a few more things” (insert my stomach going “No! Grrrrrooooowwwwwllllll.”) and said, “Are you ready? I thought you were going to change. Maybe Mommy could match Xoe.”
Xoe liked that idea and pulled me up the stairs to try to match her cute little shirt and skirt. I obligingly changed, then was informed that my mother-in-law thought she left her wallet at the church earlier, so we had to stop over and check before we went to dinner. (Church being two minutes from our house.) Okay. Nothing unusual there, LOL. So we headed to the church.
“None of us will ever accomplish anything excellent or commanding except when he listens to this whisper which is heard by him alone.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
And I saw the cars. Which made me think, “Hmm, the 4-H club must be doing something. But their night is Thursday, not Friday. I wonder what . . . is that Mom and Dad’s car? What in the world are they doing here?” Then the car in front of us pulled in and proved to be my neighbors growing up. I sent David another Look and said, “What’s going on?”
David said, “I don’t know. Go in and see.”
Riiiiiiiight. That’s when I knew what was happening. Still, I was shocked beyond shocked when I opened the door and saw two of my out-of-town friends there with their kids!
All around the room, in addition to the amazing friends and family who had come to celebrate with me, including my high school cross-country coach, those out-of-towners, and several others who had cheered me on all my life but I rarely see anymore, were decorations that proved how well my mom and sister knew me. My sister’s school had donated some books that were in terrible shape and so could be cut up, so decorations were all made from or around book pages.
“A great book should leave you with many experiences and slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading it.” ~ William Styron
There were pages cut into leaf-shapes all over, sometimes attached to brown-paper trees, or to my mom’s cute little twig arrangement, and also scattered on the tables. (And yes, I’m such a dork that I sat there eating and trying to figure out which book they might have come from by reading the 4-words I could see per line, LOL.) And of course, the calla lily arrangement. =)
My sister had also found a bunch of quotes on books/writers that she’d printed and matted and put on the walls. (Those would be the things I’m quoting here.) So awesome! Even the cakes were books!
“Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.” ~ Rudyard Kipling
It was a fabulous party, and I had such a great time hanging out with my friends and family and being amazed that they had all gone to such trouble for me. So a huge, big thanks to everyone who came. The hugest, biggest thanks to Mom and Jen for planning such a perfect-for-me party. And for all my writers friends, take notes on those decorations!! They so make the perfect book party! =)
“These are not books, lumps of lifeless paper, but minds alive on the shelves.” ~ Gilbert Highet
I had a few moments of surreal euphoria when I looked around and saw my book covers, my books, my titles on the walls. Was this real? Did I really have that many books on or destined for the shelves? Hard to believe. And while I’m certainly not famous or best-selling or anything like that, I’m living my dream. And that is just a blessing beyond what any words can ever express.
“Success comes to a writer, as a rule, so gradually that it is always something of a shock to him to look back and realize the heights to which he has climbed.” ~ P.G. Wodehouse
by Roseanna White | Mar 28, 2012 | Remember When Wednesdays, Uncategorized
Now, I haven’t yet found a perfect image for Thad, so feel free to help me out there! If you think of an actor or painting or something that just screams “There he is!” please pass along a link! I’ll post a few possibles, but I’m not sold on any of them yet.
Thaddeus Lane was born in New Haven, Connecticut, the third child but first son to the hero and heroine from
Ring of Secrets. With a chemist/philosopher for a father and a former-spy for a mother, one may have expected that Thad would follow the rest of his family (including his sisters) into the world of intellectualism. But instead, Thad seized upon the intrigue and followed it into adventure.
In the years leading up to the War of 1812, there was opportunity aplenty for adventure on the high seas, and that’s where Thad went. I picture him tall and lanky. Handsome, but in a way that makes him pleasant to look at without making women swoon right and left. He’s a privateer, so picture him standing on the deck of a romantic-looking ship, ready to swash some buckles. (Or maybe buckle some swashes? LOL) 😉
But the real key to this guy is his personality. You’ve probably met someone like him–he’s the type that could make friends with a rock. With a wall. With men, with women, with old and young, with allies or enemies. He’s the type that makes his nieces and nephews squeal with delight just by walking into a room, the type that every other privateer in the Atlantic, Caribbean, or Gulf has met and liked.
He’s the kind that absolutely everyone, everyone trusts. Which of course makes him the perfect intelligencer. =)
Thad is a man with secrets abounding, but no one ever thinks it of him, because he seems so open and honest. But while all the American privateers happily send along to him any information they have on British movements on the seas, they have no idea that he’s using it all to compile false information to feed back to their enemies. Who, after all, would suspect that open, honest Thad is capable of such duplicity? They know he’s organizing them a bit–a born leader, that one–but no one ever suspects that he’s the linchpin to American intelligence work during the war.
Thad’s also a softie with a quick sense of humor (he’s going to have some oh-so-fun exchanges with his socially-bumbling father) and a sense of responsibility for way more than is actually his responsibility. The first glimpse we’ll get of that is the fact that he married his friend’s widow several years earlier just to provide for her and her son in her final year of life. Of course, said friend comes back from his supposed-death a year after that . . . on the surface, this friend will be grateful his family was cared for when they assumed him dead. But I’m guessing there’s going to be a spark or two that flames up because of it through the course of the book. =)
Now, when Gwyneth arrives on the scene, Thad’s going to be a bit torn. He’ll greet her with the same good humor with which he greets everything, but a daughter of a British general? Entrusted to the care of his family during the closing months of a war with England? Yeah . . . he’s none too sure about this pretty, conflicted little gentlewoman.
Which is going to make it tons of fun.
by Roseanna White | Mar 22, 2012 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
In both my personal Bible reading and what I do with Xoe for her home school, I’ve been immersed in the Gospels lately. And of course, it’s no surprise that, being in the Lenten season, our studies at church have centered around Him too.
But the more I read, the more I reflect, the more I’m struck by certain things . . . the more I realize that I tend to focus on what He went through, what He did, how others reacted to Him. And not so much on the Son of Man himself. Which is why, I think, I’m so struck by it when an insight into His personality hits me.
In fact, that, there. Personality. Do you think of Jesus as having a personality? Strange question, I know, LOL. And maybe I ask because I’m a writer. See, in fiction, the more toward perfect a character tends, the flatter they have the potential to be. It’s the flaws, the mistakes that make them real. That make them lovable. That make them personable.
So reading the Gospels as one would a story . . . well, I’ve had to occasionally remind myself that these aren’t stories, not like what I write. And Jesus is more than just the wise mentor I might toss in as a secondary character into one of my novels. He’s it. The story. The character. The goal. The conflict. The resolution. It’s not outside Him like the events often are in one of my books. It’s embodied by Him.
And that makes me pause and study my Lord in a new light.
A while back, when Xoe was having one of those days where she didn’t want to read, I tried to lure her into her Bible story for the day by saying, “Oo, look at the picture. What do you think this one will be about?”
Rowyn, seeing Jesus in the picture, shouted, “It’s Jesus! It’s about how He takes care of us!”
He nailed that one, didn’t he? No matter the particular story, that’s what it always comes down to. That Jesus loves us. This perfect Man, the one who never made a mistake, still had to deal with the consequences of mistakes–ours. Which He did because His heart, unsoiled by any dark emotions, was always, always squeezed in compassion for us.
It’s so easy to think of Jesus on the cosmic scale–the Savior of mankind. But you know, mankind is pretty darn big. The cosmos is rather, um, large. And me? I’m small. Just a woman in the immense crowd of people watching the Son of God. Back at the edge of the crowd, maybe, unable to see the exact gleam in his eye or the way His mouth turns up in a smile.
But that’s not good enough. Ever pause to think about whose stories made it into the gospels? The ones who pushed forward. The ones who said distant wasn’t good enough, that curiosity wouldn’t cut it. The ones who elbowed their way forward until they could look Jesus in the eye and see His love for them.
Can you see His love for you? That He didn’t just create those cosmos with His hand, He stretched it out toward you and said, “Rise up. Sin no more. Follow me.”?
I always remember what Jesus did–but sometimes I’m just struck dumb by who He is. And yet I can kind of understand why some people could see Him and not believe . . . because who can believe a perfect character? In fiction, the only way to make a nearly-perfect character likable is to fill them with love so huge you just can’t deny it.
Yeah. Jesus kinda has that one down, doesn’t He?
This Lenten season, I’m going to be spending a lot of time meditating on the person of my Lord. The personality. The character. The humanity that filled this Savior. The perfection that lifted this Man above mankind.
And each time I know I’m going to be filled with awe. Because there’s just so much He did, so much He is. And it’s all for us.
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.