Deep Discount On "The Confession of Piers Gaveston" by Brandy Purdy

Now you can download the ebook of Brandy Purdy's provocative and controversial yet loving portrait of the infamous lover of King Edward II of England.

"One of the best uses of first person narrative I have seen."  Nan Hawthorne

Just visit Smashwords and, when you go to checkout, enter the code for a 50% discount off the "cover" price.

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Coupon is good through May 31, 2011.

See the book trailer at http://youtu.be/ynh8eMa-KYM

THE TRUTH BEHIND THE CONFESSION OF PIERS GAVESTON

From the author's web site, http://www.brandypurdy.com

To those who know his name, Piers Gaveston is the dark power lurking behind the throne of the weak-willed and pliant king, Edward II, whispering in his ear, goading him on to further extravagance, an arrogant, avaricious Gascon, a commoner raised to glory, too high and too fast, like "a night-growing mushroom," a parasite feasting, like a leech, on the royal treasury. To others of a more romantic bent, he is one half of a pair of star-crossed lovers centuries ahead of their time, born into a world where homosexual love was a crime punishable by castration or burning at the stake. To yet others, Edward II and Piers Gaveston were devoted friends, who symbolically swore an oath of blood-brotherhood that has, from their own lifetime to the current day, been misunderstood and slandered with the base charge of sodomy. So what is the correct answer, who was Piers Gaveston really, and what was the true nature of his relationship with Edward II? To put it bluntly, we don’t know. The answers to those questions are lost in the mists of time.

Here is what we do know:

Piers Gaveston was presumably close to Edward II in age; therefore, he must have been born around 1284. We know his father was Sir Arnaud de Gaveston, a prosperous Gascon knight who served Edward I faithfully and even offered himself as a hostage on the King's behalf on more than one occasion. Thus, Piers was not the lowborn commoner of popular imagination. His mother was also well-born, Claremunda of Marcia or Marsan, spellings vary. Legend has it that she died a condemned witch, burned at the stake, a scenario too intriguing for many novelists, myself included, to resist. Whether factual or fantasy, the story was widely circulated, and an aura of witchcraft has always enshrouded Piers Gaveston. To quote one of the medieval chroniclers: "The King loved an evil male sorcerer more than he did his wife."

Piers Gaveston first appears on the pages of history when he joined the army of King Edward I in 1297. He made such a good impression upon the King that he was chosen to become a companion of the heir to the throne, Prince Edward (later King Edward II). Gaveston was handsome and vivacious, as proud as a peacock, and as splendid as one when it came to matters of dress. But he was much more than just a pretty boy, he was intelligent and skilled in the arts of war, and, when given the opportunity, displayed an admirable knowledge of military tactics. He had a quick and wicked wit, which he either could not or would not curtail, especially when it came to mocking those who considered themselves his betters. He assigned nicknames to the most powerful men in the land and apparently struck a nerve; it was an insult they would never forgive or forget.

In 1300 Gaveston joined Prince Edward's household. Of that first meeting, we know only this, from a medieval chronicler: "When the King's son saw him, he fell so much in love that he entered upon an enduring compact with him, and chose and determined to knit an indissoluble bond with him, before all other mortals."

But apparently in choosing Gaveston to be the Prince’s companion, the King got more than he bargained for. He soon became alarmed by the closeness that had developed between the two, and Gaveston was sent away, to France, with a pension from the King and a ship full of gifts from the Prince. But their separation was short-lived. When the old King died in 1307, the new King's first act was to recall his beloved “Perrot.” As one chronicler put it: "And so he had home his love, Piers Gaveston, and did him great reverence, and worshipped and made him great and rich. Of this doing fell villainy to the lover, evil speech and backbiting to the love, slander to the people, harm and damage to the realm."

Before he even set foot back on English soil, Gaveston was made Earl of Cornwall, an unprecedented and highly lucrative honor for one not of royal blood, and was betrothed to Edward's niece, Margaret de Clare. Whether Gaveston had any prior knowledge of these and the other honors about to be heaped on him we do not know.

Soon Gaveston was seen to have a stranglehold on royal patronage as a seemingly endless flow of titles, sinecures, jewels, manors, and all manner of costly gifts, were showered on him. The established nobility, with Gaveston's chief enemies the Earls of Lancaster, Warwick, Pembroke, and Lincoln, at the helm, greatly resented this but “the more virulently people attacked Gaveston, the more keenly the King loved him.” Gaveston's personality did nothing to salve the situation, as he paraded an insufferable pride and poked fun at his enemies.

When Edward crossed the channel to marry Princess Isabelle of France, he further enraged the nobility by leaving Gaveston to rule as regent, when the honor should have gone to a man of greater years and experience. And when the royal bride and groom returned, as soon as the ship docked, Edward ran down the gangplank and flung himself into Gaveston's arms, and then proceeded to forget all about his bride, he even gave her wedding jewels to Gaveston. At Edward's coronation that followed shortly afterwards, Gaveston appeared in royal purple encrusted with pearls instead of cloth-of-gold as befitted an earl. And at the banquet that followed, Edward had eyes and ears only for Gaveston. Soon Isabelle was writing home to her father that her husband was a stranger to their marriage bed, and for this she blamed Piers Gaveston.

Pressure was brought to bear on Edward, and Gaveston was banished, but not in disgrace. He was sent to Ireland as Lord Lieutenant or Governor, where he more than amply demonstrated his intellect and prowess as a military commander. But Edward was "lovesick for his minion" to quote the famous play by Christopher Marlowe, from which this story is probably best known, and soon Gaveston was back in England. Things went on much the same as always.

Eventually, the earls joined forces as the Lords Ordainers and sought to reform the land and, with such reforms, diminish Edward's power as king. After a campaign in Scotland failed, Gaveston was again banished, this time perpetually from the realm. But he did not stay away for long, he soon returned to England, some historians think to be present for the birth of his first and only legitimate child, Joan, born in 1312. (Controversy surrounds a possible bastard daughter known as Amy Gaveston.) This was, to use a more modern phrase, the straw that broke the camel's back, and soon the earls were amassing an army and civil war was a serious threat. Edward and Gaveston fled to Newcastle, and afterwards to Scarborough Castle, where Edward left Gaveston to go and try to raise an army of his own.

On May 19, 1312 Gaveston surrendered his person into the custody of the Earl of Pembroke, who, being the most honorable and less self-interested of Edward's nobles, swore an oath on all his lands, titles, and goods, that no harm would come to Gaveston while in his keeping. But Pembroke was not infallible. In the mistaken belief that Gaveston would be safe there, he decided to leave him at the rectory in the little village of Deddington while he went on to nearby Bampton to spend the night with his wife, who was in residence there. One night was all Warwick and Lancaster needed. They swept in, taking everyone unawares, and Gaveston, barefooted and wearing only his shirt, was forced to walk in chains and humiliation, to Warwick Castle, where he was thrown into the dungeon.

After a brief trial, where the verdict was a bygone conclusion, Gaveston was taken in the wee hours of June 19, 1312 to the top of Blacklow Hill where he was first stabbed in the heart and then beheaded. So ended the life, but not the legend, of Piers Gaveston.

But what of Piers Gaveston the human being? All the chroniclers speak of Edward's "mad folly" and "immoderate love" for him, but on the subject of Gaveston's own feelings they are conspicuously silent. Nor do any letters or diaries exist to enlighten us. Not one scrap of evidence exists to tell us what the royal favorite thought or felt for his king and benefactor and the position of power he occupied. A biography of Piers Gaveston reads more like an outline of historical events and an inventory of honors and gifts than a warts and all biography. We don't even know what he looked like—beyond that he was considered handsome—the color of his eyes, or whether he was tall or short, dark or fair.

As a novelist, some have taken issue with the way I have chosen to portray Piers Gaveston, his background, and relationship with Edward II. I have been accused of writing a historically inaccurate book and criticized for telling a story that goes against the grain of popular belief. It was my intention to try to show that, as Gaveston says in my novel, "there are two sides to every coin," and it is possible to interpret the "facts" in a different way, especially when there are great gaps in our existing knowledge and the unknowns far outnumber the knowns.

Another goal I hoped to achieve with my portrayal of Gaveston was to create an unreliable narrator, one who would make readers wonder how much of his version of the truth is actually true. Whenever someone sits down to write their autobiography they want to show themselves in the best possible light, sometimes they even lie outright or twist and tweak the truth, or leave out pertinent details. They may even contribute to their own legend. And when looking back on failed relationships it is sometimes hard to keep the anger and bitterness at bay. In the pages of my novel, Edward II does not emerge as a very likeable, much less lovable man, some have even called him caricaturish or stereotypical, but one must remember that Gaveston is writing his account of their relationship from the threshold of death; he is remembering a man whose love has helped make him notorious and "the most hated man in England." Under the circumstances, I think it is understandable if their affair doesn't emerge as one of the great romances of history. Had my novel been written from Edward II's viewpoint, it would have been a different story.

But, in the end, it is for readers to decide whether they like my book, and if I have accomplished what I set out to do.

* Purchase a print copy of The Confession of Piers Gaveston by Brandy Purdy.

"There Was a Time Once, Remember, When We Were Not Slaves"

“There was a time once, remember, when we were not slaves…”

"Or if not, invent..." That is, at least as I remember it, a quote from author Monique Wittig that really reached into my gut and twisted them up for good. I ran across it when I was doing the research for my first book, a nonfiction work about women, sexuality, and body image called Loving the Goddess Within: Sex Magick for Women (1991.) I wanted to look at how sex in general and women's part in it became a taboo. However it did, it has had a devastating impact on all our lives who live in patriarchal cultures, and that's just about everyone.

One thing we lack, as both women and men, is a culture and in particular a literature that offers the widest possible range of ways to look at who we are as people with both gender and sexuality. Just the other day one of the news programs did a story about how men in films have far more lines than women. In 2011, this is still true. That saddens me, if it does not exactly surprise me. One reason I wrote Beloved Pilgrim was to write as real a woman as I could portray based on my own sense of myself. It is not a perfect portrayal.. there is no perfect woman or man. But after a life of writing men characters I admired, it was time I wrote a woman. I have as much trouble finding examples as the rest of the world.

The burden laid on all our shoulders by this paucity of well rounded characters hurts women, of course, but it hurts men, particularly straight men, as well. Reading Anel Viz's P'tit Cadeau I was struck by a scene where one man breaks down and sobs on the chest of another. That is not a scene you will find very often with straight men. You will find it with two women, a woman sobbing on a man's chest, and a gay man on another gay man's or perhaps his father's. You will rarely if ever see a straight man sobbing on the chest of a woman. It offends our sensibilities. What a terrible thing to dump on a gender of real, breathing, feeling human beings. I realized with that scene I had one more clue to why I so enjoy novels about gay men. Straight men are just too repressed.

Now I am reading Catherine M. Wilson's The Warrior's Path which is Book I from her "When Women Were Warriors" series. It strikes me that a book as well done as this helps provide an opportunity for both men and women to see a world that presents another paradigm about gender and sexuality. We all need new stories about us and our pasts, our heritage, our identities. Books like Wilson's are a start, and of course there are others. But how much better if we can do something better? For one, stories from a perhaps speculative place and time when the "archy" is neither matri- nor patri-. Better yet, if we can write actual historical fiction, not just speculative, where men and women are drawn as they really must have been at heart, clinging not to our notions of male and female but as they coped everyday with the need to survive in often dangerous situations.

I am going to give this more thought, wonder how I might take a character like my Elisabeth and make her even more a person, neither male nor female in her approach to her life and others in it. It is so tragic that women, who make up more than half the world, just do not find mirrors in our culture and literature. yes, we are there. Lots and lots of us... but is that really who we are? Ay, there's the rub.

Publishing: No Longer Just a Popularity Contest

Nan Hawthorne

Two recent developments in book publishing  are resulting in more choices for readers.  They are, after all, the point of all this, not authors, not corporate mass market publishers.  Wit the development of ebooks and print on demand, it is no longer necessary for a book to win a sort of popularity contest in order to reach potential customers.

It is simply a business fact that traditional publishers have to keep their eyes on the bottom line.  They are not in the industry to five away books, and it takes mass runs of titles to make publishing them feasible economically.  As it is, the industry loses money on many books, so I understand.  They must appeal to the largest possible market, so taking a chance on, say, a genre novel like historical fiction is just too much of a risk.

On the down side, that means those people who want to read books that appeal to a slender slice of the market have to do without.  The up side is that there is a growing supply of books to take their place.  If, as in the case of ebooks and print on demand publications a book can come out copy by copy, it is no longer necessary for print runs at all, no less in the thousands.

That is the good news for readers who have definite tastes in reading matter.  One example I've found is books meant to appeal to gay men or lesbians.  They are a growing market, but too scattered to warrant publishing a single book in huge quantities.  Eboks "eat no bread", that is, other than space on a server they do not use up resources when they sit and wait for someone to buy and download them.  Print on demand books are similar in that they take up a minuscule electronic space until someone orders the book and it is printed and bound.  A book can reach as few as one reader or dozens, even hundreds, with no loss in initial outlay.  Yes, this is a simplification, but when compared with large print runs, valid, I think.

Historical fiction may be a genre in and of itself, but within that category there are many many specific eras, styles, and even more minute differences.  I know two different authors who are publishing with literary publishing houses who are encouraged to write historical fiction, but narrowly proscribed.  In both cases, they are expected to write first person female nobility.  What, I ask, if that is not what you personally want to read?  I know I don't have any particular fondness for this sub-sub-genre.  But I am in the minority.  I and those like me are too small a group to risk a book on.  Does that mean that people like me and those with other "outside the box" interests should have to do without?

No, but "have to" is not a value judgment.  It is a matter of economic reality.  No one is intentionally denying us.  It is simply not the purpose of a publishing company to supply books in small quantities.

All the more reason to applaud the ebook and the print on demand book.  Though many decry the poor quality of many such books, the old "vanity press" designation, if the individual reader enjoys the book, isn't that what the book was meant for?  The reader?

It's no secret I celebrate ebooks and print on demand.  I am after all a founding board member of the Independent Authors Guild.  I have my reasons, peculiar to me, but above all I love all the choices and more even than that, that those choices are mine, as a reader, to make.

Bravo to all authors, publishers, printers, ebook providers, and especially readers!

Spring 2011 Historical Novel Roundup

Think about it: you are on your deck or the beach or out on your dock by the lake.  The birds are singing and the sun is warming you all over.  How lovely just to sit with your feet up and either a paperback book or your e-reader in your hands.  As a light breeze stirs the greenery around you, you are engrossed in a historical novel.  What bliss.

And what if this scene is someone else and the book in their hands is YOURS?  Now, that's bliss.

Well they can't read it if they don't know about it, so take a moment, go down to the link for Comments below, and start typing.. title, your name, a synopsis, where folks can get your book... the rest will be, as we say, historical fiction.

What Is This Mania About Self Promotion? A Rant

OK, someone explain to me why there is such passion about self-promotion by authors? If we don't promote our work, who is going to do it? The marketing departments at publishers seem pretty clear on this, that is, that it is up to authors to sell their books. We are told to post about books everywhere, all the time, and forever But it seems that other authors, and may I observe that all the ones who have expressed this to me have been women, decry everything from posting videos to doing no more than mentioning one's work in email signatures. For the record, I recently got bumped from a blog because I insisted on promoting my novels. In fact, I had mentioned one of my unfinished novels in passing, illustrating how I had found a useful foods history site I had found. Now I have just had two posts of mine about my latest novel deleted unilaterally by another administrator because they constituted self promotion. It's my blog, I started it, and my answer to the charge is, "Yeah, so?" I have never noticed any men chastising other men, or women for that matter, for being too forward and promoting one's own work. I suspect it would rarely occur to a man to do this. They, like I, subscribe to Walt Whitman's "I celebrate myself, I sing myself." They also just understand that that this is how you sell books. If someone doesn't' want to read your self promoting post, they just don't. They don't expect the sites, blogs or groups to make the choice for them. You know, they call governments that do that "Mommy states" for a reason. Given my own studies into the self deprecating culture of so many women -- I wrote a book on how women came to have such low self esteem as a group -- I can't help but wonder if this rejection of putting oneself or one's work forward is part of that self-imposed modesty. Like my friend's mother, who quoted that old saw, "Fool's names and fool's faces often are seen in public places." So achievement is all right, just keep it to yourself. Balderdash. I wrote the book, I'm proud of it, I want to share it. You might say it's my baby,and I thought moms were supposed to support and promote their kids. Didn't I just see a bumper sticker on a car that said "My daughter is in the National Honor Society"? If you want to promote your work, let it be known, I am behind you all the way. I make it a way of life to promote other people's work, as anyone who reads any of my blogs already knows. When I see good work, I crow about it. And that goes for my own work too. Why these "bluestocking" relics of a pre-feminist era somehow think this is wrong... well, I just don't know. They have every right to establish and enforce no self promotion policies, but only on their own blogs and sites and discussion groups. They have the right, yes, but I think they are definite throwbacks and serve nothing but outmoded ideas about achievement. Hear me roar!