The Hunting Accident

[Excerpt from An Involuntary King: A Tale of Anglo Saxon England by Nan Hawthorne.]

As Lawrence and Ronan rode back through the forest with their small group of men-at-arms and servants, they came at last to a clearing atop a hill where they could see the hall in the distance. Of a sudden, Ronan caught movement at the edge of the clearing. "My lord, look there! It is a hart!"

Lawrence turned in his saddle and saw the animal. He thought to himself that it would be sweet to be the one to bring in the prize this day, and leave Elerde empty-handed. He took his bow and pulled an arrow from his quiver to notch it. From his awkward position, turned in the saddle, he took aim at the animal.

"My lord, wait!" Ronan called.

The king saw him. Elerde was about to ride into the clearing followed by Malcolm and their attendants. They appeared to have seen the hart first and were advancing on it to run it to ground. Lawrence caught a glimpse of an arrow protruding from the animal's flank. The hart sprang, and in a moment where it stood was Elerde, slowing and wheeling to call to his companions.

Elerde glanced up and saw the king. He stared straight at him, not moving.

Lawrence paused for less than a heartbeat. He felt himself let the arrow fly without altering his aim. The arrow flew swift and straight and right into Elerde's shoulder.

The king could not decide in those next few moments if he acted reflexively, if he slipped and let the arrow fly, or if he deliberately aimed for the man. He saw Elerde jerk, then press a hand to his shoulder, a look of shock on his face. He glanced up at the king and bared his teeth in anger at him. "You!" he snarled. He slid off his horse and onto the ground.

"My God, sire, you have killed him!" Ronan breathed.

Lawrence wheeled. 'Do not be ridiculous! He is not dead. I wounded him." The statement of responsibility struck him hard. He had wounded Elerde.

He rode directly to where Malcolm stood. Malcolm was off his horse and at Elerde's side. Elerde was conscious but clearly in much pain. Lawrence dismounted and knelt by him, across from Malcolm. "Lord, you are wounded. My shot was meant for the hart," he began, questioning his own sincerity as he said it.

Elerde's lips drew back tight to reveal a snarl. "My heart, methinks! That arrow was meant to kill me!"

Lawrence's face grew red. "How dare you, sirrah?!" he growled. "How dare you accuse me? If you would challenge me, be a man and put your sword and your life behind it, else hold your tongue!"

Elerde glared back. "You have made that an uneven fight, my liege. Or mayhap it was to even the odds you did this, you miserable... what is the word? Nithing."

Lawrence gave the prostrate man a darkly threatening look. “And why should I so deign, sirrah?”

Elerde’s lip curled. “To prove yourself more worthy of that dear lady’s devotion than am I.”

Lawrence drew his dagger and raised it to plunge it into Elerde's breast. He felt hands grab his raised arm and his opposite shoulder. He heard Ronan’s voice, “My liege, nay!”

He shook them off, sheathed his dagger, and stood. He said in a grim voice to Malcolm, "Get this man to a surgeon. I shall not have his blood on my hands." He looked back at Elerde. "At least, not yet. I will set a guard upon you to wait until you are fit, to accompany you to Lawrencium should you decide to make good your accusation."

The king turned and strode over to his horse. He said not another word but mounted and rode off at a gallop.

Ronan hesitated, then bent to help Malcolm raise the wounded man to his feet. "Can you ride?” Ronan asked Elerde.

Elerde nodded, his face full of pain, anger, and hate. They got him back onto his horse, the king's arrow still protruding from his arm. Elerde leaned heavily and painfully on his saddle's pommel.

Ronan, who followed Elerde and the others to the hall, could hear the party's combined entourage muttering amongst themselves, turned and shot them a glance that silenced them.

Malcolm led Elerde's horse at an easy pace back to the hall, where one of his own men-at-arms with skill dressing battle wounds removed the arrow and cleaned and bandaged the wound.

He started to throw away the arrow. Elerde shot at him, "Nay! Give it to me!"

[Learn what happens next by reading An Involuntary King: A Tale of Anglo Saxon England by Nan Hawthorne.]

Gorey Castle Jigsaw Puzzle

This site, JigZone, allows you to choose the number of pieces and their shapes. E njoy!

What They Would Have Asked Santa For

Susan Higginbotham and I have been thinking about various historical and historical fiction characters and what they might have asked for while sitting on Santa's lap. Here is what we came up with -- see if you can guess which entries are whose.

Edward I -- Scotland.

Ethelred the Unready -- A day planner

Piers Gaveston -- Just something handmade. No, really! Well . . . if you insist, jewels are always appropriate.

Isabella of France -- My jewels back.

Alfred the Great - An oven timer

Hugh le Despenser the younger -- Whatever someone else is getting.

Roger Mortimer -- Hugh on a platter.

Aethelflaed, Lady of the Mercians -- For Bernard Cornwell to get me right in his novels

Edward II -- Fodor's Guide to Italy.

Harold Godwinson - Edward the Confessor's will in writing.. or not

Godiva of Coventry - Super hold hair spray

Edward III -- France.

Offa of Mercia - A really butch Welsh dyke

Branwen Jones - For the King of Mercia to leave me the heck alone.

Edward IV -- Getting to Yes.

Ivar the Boneless - You have to ask?!

Elizabeth Woodville -- An agreeable second husband who will be nice to my large family.

Aethelwald, son of Ethelred - Primo genitor

Richard the Lion-hearted -- To go on a nice long cruise.

Richard, Duke of Gloucester Something round and gold and shiny that fits nicely on my head. (Later, when king -- a horse.)

Henry Tudor -- Something round and gold and shiny that fits nicely on my head.

William Rufus -- A new archery set.

Henry VIII -- 6 free sessions of marriage counseling.

Nicholas de Fleury -- I'm not sure. I keep penduluming back and forth about that.

Anne Boleyn -- Morning sickness.

Katherine Howard -- Someone my own age to pal around with.

Katherine Parr -- Widow's weeds.

Lawrence of Críslicland - For a certain Breton mercenary to take a long walk off a short pier

Boswell the cairn terrier -- Mom to get off her duff and take me for a walk.

Macdhui the Duck, a cat -- For a credible explanation why we have not gone in the car for such a looong time.

Glad Yule and a happy and loving 2009!

Image: Harold Godwinson in the Bayeux Tapestry.

Page 56 Meme -- My Turn

Lucy Pick picked me as one of the people she tagged to fulfill the Page 56 meme.

What is a meme anyway?

From Dictionary.com:

meme

–noun a cultural item that is transmitted by repetition in a manner analogous to the biological transmission of genes.

Origin:
1976; < Gk mīmeîsthai to imitate, copy; coined by R. Dawkins, Brit. biologist

This one requires that I reach for the first book I can put my hand on and copy sentence five and a few more on page 56 of that book. My husband and I are reading Sharpe's Devil by Bernard Cornwell. The selected sentences are:

Albatrosses ghosted alongside the Espiritu Santo's rigging. The frigate, Cape Horn left far behind her, was sailing before a friendly wind on a swirling current of icy water. Dolphins followed her, while whales surfaced and rolled on either flank.

"Christ but there's some meat on those bloogy fish!" Harper said in admiration as a great whale plunged past the Espiritu Santo.

They've added a new twist to this one. We are also supposed to make the selection from our own work-in-progress. I am between books so I will use An Involuntary King.

Lawrence watched for a reaction. The captain made none except to
bow again and affirm that the king’s orders would be carried out. Lawrence
continued, “This may be more diffcult. I do not want the queen to see him
detained, hurt, distressed, or held in any way. She is not to know he is being
watched.”

The captain replied, “With your leave, my liege, I shall select men I know
can be subtle and discreet to watch the warrior. They can more easily take
steps to make sure he does not disturb Her Majesty.”

And now I am to tag five more people. Nicol doesn't have a blog so I guess she's off the hook.

Susan Higginbotham
Mirella Parzer
Erastes
Liam Guilar
Greta Marlow

Eh bien, voilà -- bonne chances, mes amis.

Nan

[Book Review]The Harvesting, By Celia Hayes

The Harvesting: Book Three of the Adelsverrein Trilogy
By Celia Hayes

In a divergence from my usual era in historical fiction, I agreed to exchange reviews of our novels with Celia Hayes who writes about the American West. The novel she sent me is the third volume of her Adelsverein series about German immigrants in Texas. I found a great deal of enjoyment in this novel, and perhaps the highest praise I have is that I am certain to read the other two in the series -- The Gathering and The Sowing, though they take place before the action of The Harvesting, and I already know my heart will take a beating in Book Two.

The Harversting begins with the return of Peter Vining, a Confederate soldier from his recuperation from the loss of most of one arm in the Civil War. His decision to visit his cousins, two families of German immigrants, draws the reader into the central story of the fortunes of these strong and individualistic people. The families are led by the redoubtable Magda Becker and her children and her agoraphobic sister, Liesl Richter with her bluff husband Hansi and their children, all living with a wise and witty old father thanks to being unable to return to their own homes since the war. The novel follows the combined and later separate families through the kidnapping of two of the Richter's young children by Commanches, the return of the Becker property which was taken and Magda's husband murdered for being unwilling to support the Confederacy. The family prospers with a freight hauling business, small mercantile shops, cattle drives, and land. The Richter daughter is rescued and returned to her parents, while the son who was also taken stays psychically if not phsically with his Indian family. Much of the novel is taken up with the doings of the extended families and adjustment to having gone from rags to riches.

What I liked most about this novel was its characters, distinct, well drawn, and appealing. I also appreciated the education about the history of the Germans in Texas. I look forward to learning far more in the two earlier books, the first about the families' emigration from Germany in the 1840s, and the second at least in part about how the War Between the States tore them apart.

There were a few flaws. I found the book almost humorously repetitive at times, such as when Peter feels as if he could reach up and grab a star while on the cattle drive, only to do this almost word for word again just paragraphs away. This happens in probably a couple dozen places in the book, one incident described in its details not that long after the first time. I don't know if the author thinks her readers have poor memories. The other issue I had with the book is the framing of the story within a scene of Magda and her daughter Lotte reminiscing in 1918. Hayes told me she did this on purpose as a lead into a further volume in the series, but I found the short framing scenes distracting and rather illogical, since the two women appear to be able to remember what happened to other people when they were not even around. The opening sequence is entirely about Peter, for example, and neither woman came along for the cattle drive. Minor issues included occasional pronoun antecedent confusion and some grammatical error -- in the narrative, not dialogue.

It's a great story. Sweeping in scope, Hayes does a very good job with illustrating the divers gathering of cultures in the new world. I really cared about the characters and got teary at least twice. I think Hayes has a great insight into family relationships. I have to thank her for one of those handy little reminders of how much loved ones mean to me.

Finally, my hat is off to Hayes for being skilled with keeping a volume readable though part of a series. If you pick up this one first, you will not have been left out of a seeming secret... she fills you in well and properly but lets the current story stand on its own.

Alas, Poor William de Braoise..

I am reading Celia Hayes' Aldsverein: The Harvest, the third of a trilogy about German immigrants in Texas in the mid-19th century. I can tell already that when I get around to the second book, the death of a central character is going to devastate me... I tear up just knowing about what happens to him.

It was that way with William de Braoise, Princess Joan's lover, in the second of the Heaven Tree Trilogy by Edith Pargenter. When what happens to him when he is caught at it by her husband had me sobbing. I grieved for a couple weeks. And I often say "Now I am going to have to kill myself" when I reach the end of a novel I have been thoroughly engrossed in. "How can I go on without these people?" I ask myself.

It strikes me that even if some of these dearly departed who are breaking my heart were not in fact fictional, if they were in fact historical figures, the fact is given my reading tastes -- i.e., anything that takes place after 1600 is science fiction -- these darlings would be dead now anyway. Long. long dead. Llewellyn, Joan, William, the whole lot, would all be pushing up a gazillionth generation of daisies now.

So clearly the author has been effective! When I sat chilled to the bone at the sacrifice of Conal in Edward Rutherfurd's Princes of Ireland or sobbing at the killing of Patrick Smith on Vinegar Hill in his Rebels of Ireland,it's his marvellous characters and stories that are doing it to me, not that I am, like, a sap, or anything, right?

Let's not even get into what Nicholas de Fleury did to me at the end of Book 6 of House of Niccolo! I used to love that man...

Sigh.

The Wit and Wisdom of Piers Gaveston

To mark the occasion of a new release and cover of Brandy Purdy's The Confession of Piers Gaveston, we offer some of the wit and wisdom of King Edward II's Gascon "favorite" drawn from the pages of Purdy's novel. Don't be surprised if you find some of these emblazoned on t-shirts some day.

Confess it, my Lord, I rattle you like the glass in a casement when it thunders!

Finding a costly piece of jewelry pinned to one's pillow is far from an unpleasant way to start the day.

Loving me is expensive.

Letting it be known will not make it be believed.

We must all learn to live with our disappointments.

Beauty and Sincerity do not go hand-in-hand and having one is no guarantee of the other.

Though I have always been faithful to Edward in my fashion, like fashion I am hardly ever constant.

And there are people who say I have no head for business!

When innocence is lost it is gone forever, and what takes root in its place isn't always good or pretty.

If you find this position awkward there are others we might try.

Love come sin many guises; Lust is not the only robe it wears.

People generally do take what they are offered.

There was nothing to be gained by lying, so I told the truth.

We always hate the one who has stolen the life we longed for.

When the day came when I must decide between shoes and shame I chose shoes and would again.

My mother told me never to look down on someone unless I meant to help.

My friend the Earl of Richmond accuses me of fancying you. Naturally, I denied it, but only because it's true.

Verily, My Lord, I shall have to don mourning for your dead sense of humor!

I know full well what I have become, but I also know what I could have
been.

It it true, life touches life, and one person can be like a pebble dropped into a pond creating ripples that spread far and wide.

I shall sit here and strive to appear languid and alluring while I pretend to listen.

Knowledge is power and blind faith is rarely rewarded.

It has long been my practice to only tell you lies that you are likely to believe.

Time has taught me that often the prize isn't worth winning.

I do not sleep under the stars unless they are painted on the ceiling or embroidered on the canopy above the bed!

Why if I had a gold coin for every time I have gone down on my knees...Oh, come to think of it, I do!

Trust and Love, they are a Fool's game, and I am glad to be dealt out even if it is by Death.

Did I never tell you how much I long to feel your lance?

I am determined to make a good death since I could not make a good life.

Irish Pirate, Grace O'Malley

[Reprinted from the award-winning History and Women.]

Grace O'Malley (Pirate) 1530 – 1603

Irish Gaelic: Gráinne Ní Mháille

Grace O'Malley was born in Connaught in Ireland about 1530. Her father was chieftain of the O'Malley clan, subject to the Gaelicized Anglo-Norman Burke or de Burgo family who controlled most of what is now County Mayo. The O'Malleys were a seafaring clan and lived in part off taxes collected from those who fished off their coast which included ships from as far off as England.

As a child of a noble family Grace O'Malley was educated, but legend has her sharing many of her father's sea voyages. She was married first to Dónal O'Flaherty, the heir to the ruler of Connaught, now roughly equivalent to County Connemara. When he was killed in battle, O'Malley returned to Mayo with many of O'Flaherty's followers.

O'Malley next married Richard Burke and took up residence in his Rockfleet Castle. It is said she did this in order to gain access to coastline with sheltered harbors near the greatest sea traffic, perfect for lying in wait with pirate ships. She had been involved from a young girl in her father's shipping and sea trade business and continued with the business even through her marriages.

O'Malley was already known for her ability as a battle commander. After her first husband died, she took back Cock's Castle which he had lost to the Joyce clan. The Joyces were so impressed with her that they renamed the castle Hen's Castle. The English besieged O'Malley there some years later. She is said to have had the lead used to roof the castle melted to pour on the heads of the besieging soldiers, and to have set up a system of signal fires beforehand that allowed her to summon help successfully, so she was the victor.

The city leaders of Galway routinely taxed owners of ships who traded their goods in that city. O'Malley decided that she would do the same and began boarding and "taxing" ships that ventured near her coast. If the ships resisted, their crews would be imprisoned or killed. Them O'Malley's ships would disappear into secret coves. She spread her attacks on ships as far south as Waterford and raided several castles along the Irish coast as well.

O'Malley got into the business of recruiting and transporting mercenaries. She brought soldiers from Scotland to Ireland, raiding the coast of Scotland while she was in the neighborhood. She also offered to recruit and train mercenaries for the English in Ireland.

Much folklore surrounds O'Malley. In one story she arrived at Howth Castle and requested hospitality. When she was refused because the "family was at supper" she kidnapped the young heir and held him until Baron Howth promised that the gates of his castle would never again be closed to unexpected visitors and to have an extra place set at every meal. O'Malley is said to have made a lover of Hugh de Lacey, the shipwrecked son of a Wexford merchant whom she had rescued. When he was murdered by the MacMahons O'Malley attacked and destroyed many of their ships and then took Doona Castle from them, executing those who were responsible for de Lacey's murder.

Over her lifetime O'Malley saw the English hold on Ireland tighten. When two of her sons and her half brother were taken prisoner by the English governor of Connaught, O'Malley traveled to England to treat for their release with Queen Elizabeth herself. When they met at Greenwich O'Malley refused to bow to Elizabeth as she did not consider her the sovereign of Ireland. When her rich garb was searched guards found a dagger When O'Malley assured Elizabeth that it was for her own defense, the Queen of England believed her. The two women's meeting was conducted in Latin since neither spoke the other's language. They came to an agreement, Elizabeth agreeing to the release of O'Malley's menfolk, and O'Malley agreeing to stop her support of Irish rebels and attacks on English ships. It should be remembered that both women were in their sixties at the time of the meeting. Redoubtable old ladies indeed!

In spite of the meeting, O'Malley soon returned to her old ways. She most likely died at Rockfleet Castle in 1603, the same year that Queen Elizaveth died.

Unicorns and Castles and Helms Oh My! Medieval Gifts

How to celebrate the winter holidays forsoothly!

Get medieval on your loved ones this holiday season with special medieval theme gifts for him, her, and the little ones. Current designs include a casual castle, and elegant unicorn coat of arms, a stark Saxon helm, a whimsical Blue Lady Tavern sign and a cute-as-a-gargoyle "Medieval Baby". You will find a selection of items with these original designs by Shield Wall Books' Nan Hawthorne, including shirts, caps, bibs, cards, mugs and more.

Just visit Shield Wall Productions Cafe Press shop! Check back soon for more designs and products.

Glad Jul!

Take the Medieval Sleuth Quiz!

Identify which medieval sleuth or spy is referenced in the clue.

Answers can be found at http://www.medieval-novels.com/locations/mysteries.htm

1. Which medieval sleuth lost an eye to the knife of a jongleur's leman?
A. Matthew Shardrake
B. Matthew Bartholomew
C. Owen Archer

2. Which medieval sleuth learns at adulthood that her father was born to a Jewish family?
A. Ursula Blanchard
B. Katherine Le Vendeur
C. Eleanor of Wynthrope

3. Which English sovereign does the sleuthing for herself?
A. Isabella the Fair
B. Eleanor of Aquitaine
C. Queen Elizabeth I

4. Which medieval sleuth is King Edward I's senior clerk and master spy?
A. Philip Gooden
B. Sir Robert Carey
C. Sir Hugh Corbett

5. Which medieval sleuth is a medical practitioner whose first case is based on The Canterbury Tales?
A. Kathryn Swinbrooke
B. Dame Frewise
C. Katherine Swynford

6. Which medieval sleuth has a son named Olivier de Bretagne?
A. Brother Athelstan
B. Justin de Quincy
C. Brother Cadfael

7. Which sleuth has a day job that takes him to a tavern called The Queen's Head?
A. Nicholas Bracewell
B. Edward Hood
C. Christopher Marlowe

8. Which medieval sleuth's brother is the King of Cashel?
A. Grace O'Malley
B. Sister Fidelma
C. Rory McGuinness

9. Which dependable lady-in-waiting is really a spy who reports to Sir William Cecil?
A. Ursula Blanchard
B. Rosamund Cllifford
C. Lady Amy Robsart

10. Which medieval sleuth is a doctor skilled in reading corpses and solved the murder of the "Fair Rosumend", Henry II's famous mistress?
A. Abbess Halewise
B. Mistress Lucy Wilton
C. Adelia de Aguilar

11. Which medieval sleuth accompanied Queen Isabella to England when she married Edward II?
A. Mistress Jane Shore
B. Mathilde of Westminster
C. Piers Gaveston

12. Which medieval sleuth helped rescue Richard of Gloucester's wife Anne Neville?
A. Roger the Chapman
B. Brother Athelstan
C. Sir Roger Shallot

Answers are at http://www.medieval-novels.com/locations/mysteries.htm

A Tragi-nasty Hero/Villain

My husband Jim has been reading my novel to me most nights after we go to bed. It's an interesting experience. I cringe a lot: ""Oh why did I use that word?!" I notice patterns I hadn't seen before now that I am not embroiled in it: "Lawrence is a tad theatrical, isn't he?" And I admit I nod with admiration for my own skill often enough: "That was a pretty good scene with the brigands, wasn't it?"

One thing I am enjoying is actually getting a better sense of the characters than when I crafted them. That's gotta be a good thing, right? The queen really does come off strong in much of the novel, which should make The Muse pretty happy. The character I am looking at with new eyes though is Lord Elerde (eh-laird')of Brittany. He's supposed to be a bad guy kinda sorta, but it's getting harder not to feel sorry for the guy. When I said "Well, he shouldn't have gotten mixed up in it all in the first place," my husband replied, "The heart wants what it wants."

Elerde is the "darkly sensual mercenary" of the back cover and the ads. He is employed by one of the entirely bad bad guys who sends him to the king's court to be undercover. He comes to want to be undercovers with Josephine, whose character flaw is primarily not knowing when she's encouraging men to fall in love with her. Elerde is well educated, erudite, gallant, continental as he is. Her Saxon husband is sexy as hell and admirable, but let's just say Roman love poetry doesn't thrill him the way Beowulf does. Elerde ingratiates himself to the queen, but she's a good girl, she is, and there is no hanky panky. But her brother has sent for her royal hubby and Elerde finds himself posted to the Críslicland equibalent of Siberia.

Elerde of course does an exemplary job. Lawrence has to give him credit for that, but he also likes to get under the king's skin. Lawrence and he get into an unlooked for situation where hthe king almost kills the mercenary. This sparks Elerde to ally with a group of his old army buddies who lack his finer sensibilities in taking over the queen's homeland. He admits he is doing it to get Lawrence's goat and to further his own ambitions, but when he learns the queen is caught behind enemy lines, it all changes. Now he is bent on protecting her. When in spite of his best efforts someone else does a better and incredibly noble job of that, he throws up his hands and goes back to Críslicland where he just happens to know the king's evil cousin -- remember the earlier employer? -- is about to usurp the throne. So smolderingly sexy Elerde has to go protect the queen there.

Elerde's devotion is part of his appeal I suppose. He reveals himself as a big softy a couple times, and frankly he deserves better than Josephine. He deserves someone who will love him back and not just turn a blind eye to his sacrifices. He loves her kids, he hellps take care of her sick daughter, he saves her life more often than anyone else, he really does love her, and what's more, he gets most of the best lines.

The Breton met the earnest even imploring gaze. He nodded slowly. “Methinks the lady has at least two champions besides her husband. Alas, that only one may win her.”

Rory’s gaze changed to a challenge. “If it came to me to make that choice, sir, that champion shall be the king.”

Elerde dismissed Rory with a gesture. “Well then, it is a good thing that you will be unlikely to be the one to choose.”

True, he sends his lieutenant to kill the king. True, he really does want Josephine for himself. True he is a savage fellow in many ways. True, only one of the three men who love her can have her. But there comes a time in the story when you find yourself rooting for him, or at least hurting for him. Well, I did, and I know at least three readers who did also.

One reviewer told me she wants a sequel just about Elerde.

The photo above, by the way, is Ioane Guffudd, the Welsh actor who portrayed Lancelot in the 2001 film "King Arthur" with Clive Owen. He is exactly how I picture Elerde.

A Historical Mad Lib Game - Results

STOP! If you have not already read A Historical Mad Lib Game then you have already ruined it for everyone!

Well, not everyone... just yourself.

You were asked in that post to come up with a list of words based on parts of speech. It is sort of too late now, but if you want, go ahead and go back to that and do as you are bid.

For those of you who followed instructions like good little doobies, go ahead and copy and paste the following story. Then put the words you came up with in it in the correct places.. it's obvious, so don't fuss.

Then once you have done that.. and stop busting your gut laughing.. copy and paste the resulting story into the comments form below. Then we will bust our guts laughing.

And if you are Susan Higginbotham, thanks for being a good sport about this in advance!

The Story

A Mad LIb about Richard III

Richard was a _adverb_ misunderstood figure in English history. He was a good king but those that followed him made sure history remembered him as a _adjective 1_ one. They claimed that he had a deformed _body part_, that he forced _famous woman_ to marry him against her will, and that he murdered the little princes in the _building_.

When his _adjecttive 2_ brother Edward was King, Richard was the Duke of _place name_. His symbol was a white _animal 1_. They had another brother, _man's first name_ who was the Duke of Clarence. He was a troublemaker. When he was finally imprisoned, Richard is said to have drowned him in a butt of _liquid_. This is probably a lie that _author_ put in his play _famous play_.

Richard III is shown holding a _plant_ in the famous portrait that hangs in the national Portrait gallery. When Henry Tudor crossed from _place_ to seize the throne, Richard led his own army against him He is said to have cried "A _animal 2_, a _animal 2_, my kingdom for a _animal 2_!"

Susan Higginbotham, whose real job is as a _occupation_ , is writing a novel about all this. Her other novels are "The _type of person_'s Wife" and "Hugh and Bess: A _emotion_ Story". Susan is such a _adjective 3_ writer.

I am sure you noticed my mistake in the story...

Susan Higginbotham supplied some words so I could offer one result for you before you start supplyiung yours for the rest of us.

The Story

A Mad LIb about Richard III

Richard was a quickly misunderstood figure in English history. He was a good king but those that followed him made sure history remembered him as a lovely one. They claimed that he had a deformed elbow, that he forced Sarah Palin_ to marry him against her will, and that he murdered the little princes in the Empire State Building.

When his bold brother Edward was King, Richard was the Duke of Apex, North Carolina. His symbol was a white cairn terrier. They had another brother, Richard, who was the Duke of Clarence. He was a troublemaker. When he was finally imprisoned, Richard is said to have drowned him in a butt of Coca Cola.This is probably a lie that Jane Austen put in his play "Hamlet".

Richard III is shown holding a lavender in the famous portrait that hangs in the National Portrait gallery. When Henry Tudor crossed from the library to seize the throne, Richard led his own army against him He is said to have cried "A Siamese cat, , a Siamese cat, my kingdom for a Siamese cat!"

Susan Higginbotham, whose real job is as a ratcatcher , is writing a novel about all this. Her other novels are "The Grouch's Wife" and "Hugh and Bess: An Outrage Story". Susan is such a garish writer.


Want more??? Then make up your own story.. I'll print it!

Have a great weekend.

Nan

Wherein Leofwen Packs her Bags and Moves

erry gentle folk,
Some years have I resided in this fictional town of Lawrencium, content under the protective watch of the bluff-top palace and its royal king and queen. I was graced with a mention in the novel of their adventures, An Involuntary King, and shared with you much learning about them and about the time in which we all lived.

Now must I leave that life behind and prepare myself for a new one. I leave not only this town but as well the time in which I have passed my sojourn here, the late eighth century. For my new home is what in your own time will be called Winchester and in the time I shall abide in it, the mid-tenth century, Wintanceaster. I go to be the heroine of mine creator's -- not Our Good Lord but Nan Hawthorne -- series of paranormal mysteries that shall center about my new tavern and be shared with familiar but nonetheless new friends and companions.

Share I will as well with you, gentle reader, my progress in my new life as mine own great granddaughter who bears my name exact, as shall my tavern yet be called the Blue Lady Tavern.

It shall be some time ere these tales will reach your hands, so pray be patient. I shall endeavour to keep your minds amused until we can leap out of our future, your past, to entertain, mystify and delight you.

Leofwen Taverner





Visit Leofwen in her new home at Wintanceaster!

What Is It With Historical Novelists and Gay Men?

I just don't get what the deal is with historical novelists, specifically medieval historical novelists, and their portrayals of gay men. If you read as many of these novels as I do one after another, you soon find yourself quite conversant with examples of gay male characters. They abound. But why are they so often cast firmly in stereotype? Is this some sort of love-hate cross-gender preference situation?

Let me point to two miscomprehensions of gay male life I have found in numerous novels.

1. Why do so many novelists cling to the stereotype that hay men seek underage boys as lovers? The comedian in the book I just read, The Merry Devils by Edward Marston is described as having only two things that can ease his temper, drink and boys, and the lead actor takes pains to keep him away from the teen apprentices. Richard the Lionhearted in Shield of Three Lions falls for a girl disguised as a boy. Even novels that seem to treat homosexuality in a little more enlightened way put their toes over this boundary, such as Ellis Peter's Cadfael series where the young boys are closely guarded from adult monks' attention by the master assigned to that chore and the young musician in The Holy Thief has a past as the sexually abused ward of a lord.

2. Which leads me to the second stereotype. that boys become gay because of abuse as children. In Valerie Anand's King of the Wood this seems to be the explanation for King William Rufus' proclivities. That's the situation in Robb's An Apothecary Rose as the Summoner's interest in Lucy's husband is chalked up to childhood sex play.

While some gay men do prefer boys and some boys who are sexually molested grow up to be gay, neither is the norm. That's why I appreciate novels that first of all don't seek to explain the gayness of a character. My favorite gay couple in historical fiction are Martin and Ambrose in the Owen Archer series. They are just two men in love. 'Nuff said. Robb takes it a step further and shows the intense tenderness and concern of the lover when his dear one is hurt. In a funny little novel called Knight on a Bridge the lady of the manor asks a troubadour if he loves boys. He answers, and I thank him for it, that he loves men.

There are oodles of gay characters, mostly but not all men, in historical fiction. Just about any novel about Richard the Lionhearted has this as a theme, as do novels about Edward II with his two favorites, Piers Gaveston and Hugh le Dispenser. Tudor novels have a sprinkling of them, and so do many medieval mysteries. My own novel, An Involuntary King, has a couple whom a reader called "the only tragic lovers" in my story, gay men I endeavored to show as flawed human beings with great depth in their love for one another... or one for the other, at any rate. Take a look at Erastes' blog in the right-hand column here to find "Dare Not Speak Its Name" with more references to gay men historical fiction.

My issue is the stereotypes and my question is, if gay male characters are so compelling and attractive to historical novelists, why don't we portray them as they really are?

I welcome comment.

In a Class By Themselves

I've shared my rants, talked about presumptions about sexuality and separately but in particular sexual preference. Now I will talk about the issue that encompasses most of the inaccurate criticism of how people in the Middle Ages are portrayed in fiction: classism.

Classism is defined as a biased or discriminatory attitude based on distinctions made between social or economic classes. I am specifically referring to a preference or assumption of one class over others. This came up recently when someone told me the entire point of the Society for Creative Anachronism was to create a version of the Middle Ages where "everyone is a noble." What?! Forget it then. I'll drag out my old persona, Var the Insurgent. The same is generally true in novels about the era. I remark on how star-struck and classist most historical novelists are. OUt of a score of novels I would guess that at least eighteen are about royalty or nobility. Yes, yes, mine too.. though at least mine are purely fictional and my aim in the crafting of the book is self-admittedly adolescent. In the vast majority of cases, the celebrities are historical as well as fictionalized and decidedly upper crust.

When someone who is an editor on a blog I contribute to complained that too many novels give their medieval females modern sensibilities, the first words out of my mouth after "So what?" are "That's a classist position." I personally believe that every time has individuals of every sort, including tough, independent , sexually liberated women. People who say "women didn't act like that" are forgetting Eleanor of Aquitaine for a start. More than that they are forgetting the vastly different culture of peasant women. Handfastings were commonplace without benefit of clergy for one simple reason.. priests did not grow on local trees.

Authentic or not, realistic or not, it is the job of the novelist to make whatever characters s/he portrays believable. Any character you have read that you simply cannot accept as fitting an era is probably not so much inauthentic as badly written. If the author had believed in the integrity of the character, s/he would have made you believe. That's what we do.

Writing Real Women

Having just finished reading my first Sister Fidelma I am thinking about what goes into the development of a realistic female character. I suppose it could be argued that every female character in a novel or on the screen is realistic. Women are infinitely individual same as the other guys, but we all know that the vast majority of depictions of women are somehow skewed to images that are cultural more than real. It's inevitable, and I am perfectly aware of my own difficulty with representing female characters.

I don't know if you have heard this but apparently when the first Alien movie was scripted the role of Ripley was written for a man. The wonder of it is that when they recast the character with Sigourney Weaver little or nothing was changed in the script. That is why at least in the original movie the character is so.. well.. real. With Weaver's acting skill the role comes off as genuine, neither butched up nor femmed up. The real person of the character comes out.

A book I read 'way back in the early 70s, The Cook and the Carpenter (author, "The Carpenter") helped me think about how much a novel evinces about what gender is and how much of it is in the cultural soul of the reader. In it the pronouns "he" and "she" etc. were all replaced with "na" (subjective) and "nan" (objective), as in "Na walked into Leslie's kitchen, a bucket of water in each of nan hands." Since the novel came out of a particular genre, I saw every character as female, but I was aware of what hints might make me see a character as one gender or another.

Reading about Sister Fidelma I tried to see if she could have been written as a man with no change in anything but the pronouns. I decided that her femaleness was essential to the story, not because of anything in her character, but in the reaction other characters, both male and female, had towards her. Fidelma, it seems to me, must be discounted to some extent to reveal her independence and strenth. Even portraying her as a man from an underclass or from some other land would not carry the same weight.

I am not really drawing any hard and fast conclusions here. I am musing, that's all. As an author I want to know what is my character and what is my own prejudice. I had a particular challenge with this issue in An Involuntary King as the friend who was "in charge of" Josephine has such a different view of proper female behaviour than do I that it was nearly an impasse to satisfy both of us when I wrote the queen. She is in no way a traditional woman, don't get me wrong, but her use of the term "lady-like" threw me for a long time. It turned out she meant "dignified", thank heavens, but it was still very hard to write Josephine without making her seem stiff and distant. The reactions I have gotten to her show that readers see her as selfish, thoughtless, manipulative, and I wonder what my friend would say about that. Further I wonder whose, if either of ours, influence created that negative interpretation. In the end, I am content with Josephine's character. No one in the book is an idealized character, that is, they all have flaws. Josephine has as one of her less admirable characteristics a tendency to want what she wants and willfilly ignoring its impact on others. She is strong, knows her mind, can fight alongside men, can stand up to threat... but she also maintains an adolescent love of being doted upon. If no one who ever reads the novel likes her, all that will mean is that I drew her well enough to inspire feelings.

Your thoughts?

[Image of Sigourney Weaver above taken from one of the "Alien" films.]

The King Gets Arrrested: An Apochryphal Tale

[Explanatory note: In an early draft of "The Kings Goes to Juliana"written for Ghostletters a line that was supposed to say "It was Juliana with the pitcher ofwine and two cups" was typed as "two cops". This apocryphal talecomes from that typo. The Juliana story line was, thankfully, never meant to make it into the novel.]

The distracted King, in an effort to drive his lustful thoughts outwith alcohol, had called for wine to be brought to his chambers.When at last he heard the soft rap on the door, he went to open it tothe servant who would be carrying a pitcher of wine and one cup. Butwhen the King pulled open the door, he saw instead that it wasJuliana with a pitcher of wine.. and two COPS. He glanced at thecourtesan, then the men, clad in black leather leggings… we wouldcall them pants.. and black leather jackets. Each had a white helmetof a type that Lawrence had never seen before. And the visors seemedto be some sort of mirrored black glass that covered across the facehiding the eyes.

Lawrence looked at Juliana, who was I n a fair state of deshabille.He asked her, "What is the meaning of this, lady?"

At the word "lady" the two o officers exchanged smirks. Then thetaller one turned to the King.
"We need you to step outside. Do you have any weapons we should knowabout?"

The King looked puzzled. "What? Weapons? Of course I do. I havea sword and my dagger." He only then realized the impropriety of theman's question and drew himself up to his full height. "He took astep backwards.

Both cops drew their sidearms and the younger warned theKing, "Listen, man, we don't want no funny stuff."

Lawrence looked at the tiny cannons and guessed their purposealthough it was hard to imagine there could be much damage from thetiny cannonballs the weapons would send forth. He watched one of theofficers edge around him. The man demanded, "Where are the weapons,sir?" He caught site of the King's scabbard and sword and the beltwith the dagger attached hanging from the bedpost and walked over to secure them.

Lawrence wheeled and took a defensive stance. "How dare thee,varlet! Thou mayst not touch the King's sword!" He advanced on theman. He felt a hard wooden stick come around and held hard againsthis throat. The older cop had him in a strong choke hold.
"The King?" the man said menacingly. "You mean you're Elvis? WellElvis is about to leave the building."

Juliana had simply stood and watched it all, her arms across herample but only partially covered bosom.

Lawrence, half conscious was dragged from his rooms and out of thebuilding where the younger cop threw him against some sort of metalhorseless cart. "Put your hands on the car," he demanded.

The King dazed, complied. Juliana followed the men out of thebuilding. The older cop turned to her. "This the guy, ma'am?" Shenodded.

The younger cop, who had pulled Lawrence's arms behind him and cuffedhis wrists, went around to the back of the cart and opened a hatchand put the sword and belts inside, closing it. The older cop wentto a door toward the front and reached into an open window to pullout some small box attached to a lighted panel in the middle of thearea in front of what looked like chairs. He pushed a button on thebox and said into it, "Three Adam nine."

The King's eyes grew large as the tiny box responded, "Three AdamNine, go ahead."

The cop referred to a sheaf of paper and reported, "We are here onTrent between Maison de Soleil and Derby on a 768 frank."

The magic voice responded, "Affirmative. Is the scene secure?"

The cop nodded uselessly but spoke. "Affirmative. We have the RPhere. The subject had a sword and a dagger but we were able toconfiscate them."

The raspy voice asked, "Do you need to run a name?"

Three Adam nine, if that was his name, spoke into the box while theyounger cop took out a similar sheaf of papers and went over to talkto Juliana. "Affirmative. The subject is male, Caucasian, darkblonde and blue with facial hair. He is about 6' 3" . Last nameD'Arnett – david apostrophe adam robert nora edward tom tom. Firstof Lawrence, common spelling. Middle K for King.. No distinguishing marks. We are contacting him about the failureto comply with a constraining order. He did resist us, so we mayhave to bring him in. Can you check for wants and warrants?"

Juliana smirked. The King started to demand the meaning of thisagain but saw her look and shook his head. "Constraining order? Ibe the only man about these parts who can issue any orders."

The younger cop got an "I've heard it all before" look and laughed.
The voice on the magic box said, "D'Arnett Lawrence K. Birth date 1-3-46. One warrant, out of Wessex, a 10-66 for conquering. Non-extraditable. Break."
The cop replied "Go ahead."

Juliana explained, with a saucy tone, "I didst swear out aconstraining order, my lord. For failure to bed me."

Lawrence stood frozen to the spot. "What? How? Failure to bedthee? I dost not understand."
Juliana shot back, "Well thou wrote the laws here.. thou ought toknow what they be, my lord."
The two cops exchanged looks. The older one inquired, "Made thelaws??"

The box squealed and the voice came on quieter. "Uh.. there'ssomething noted in his record. Break."

The King shook his head. "I thinkest not that I approved that one.I dost not administer every little thing."

Just then the magic box squawked and the older cop listenedintensely. "Oh, affirmative. We didn't know. We will release theprisoner. 10-4. " He came over and turned the King around tounlock the cuffs. The King massaged his wrists.
"Sorry, your majesty. We did not realize you have diplomaticimmunity. Sorry, ma'am. We can't arrest him. "

Juliana spoke up defiantly, "But surely e'en the King must obey thelaw!"

The cop shrugged his shoulders. "No, sorry ma'am. You'll have totalk that one over with him. The King is above the law. I wish youhad looked into that before you pulled the department into this.You know he has a wife, don't you?

Juliana pouted and stomped up the stairs into the building. Lawrencefollowed the form as it disappeared through the open doorway. Helooked at the older cop.

"Listen, your majesty, it's none of my business, but we have somehistory with that one. You might want to take advantage of afreebie, if you know what I mean. She's pretty tenacious."
The King said, "Tellest me about it." He gave the men an irritatedlook and followed the woman into the building. The officers lookedat each other, shrugged, and got into their car and drove away. Theyounger cop took the talking box and said into it, "Three Adam nine..we're clear. The 768. Will be out on paper. Lots and lots of paper."

"Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do..."

Visit Lovely Typos

As the duly-elected Queen of the Island Kingdom of Typos, I hereby welcome you all, my faithful subjects.

It cannot have bypassed your attention that there are many literate and talented people, even authors, who seem to have a unique way of spelling certain everyday words. Many call them sloppy or inattentive to detail. This is not fair!

On the contrary, this habit or art, as we prefer to describe it, is a proud tradition of the peoples of our esteemed kingdom. To criticize our national pastime is no less a social faux pas than to belittle the culture of any other nation, such as Poland, China, Iran, or the United States of America. It is every bit as crass to crack "Typos jokes" as "Polish jokes".

I beg you, people of the world, to raise the standard of tolerance and accept our unique interpretation of written language.

Thnk yu for toru kind attenrion!

Nana Hawthornia
Queen of the Island Kingdom of Typos