March – Time for Spring Planting

Mar20

March has me planning a garden, buying seeds…and setting up water systems. It looks to be a hot summer, but I have shade ready to keep my plants from burning up. In many places, however, there’s still a worry of frosts–and in Regency England, it was still time to be thinking about the last of winter hanging on. We’ve had St. David’s Day and St. Patrick’s Day in March, but the movable feasts of Good Friday and Easter falls into April this year–more time yet to be thinking of coloring eggs and what sort of special fare to have (I lean into strawberries at this time of year and asparagus, with perhaps a bit of lamb).

Pastoral scene with a lake, swans and cows in the pasture
John Constable’s 1816 painting of Wivenhoe Park in Essex

John Loudon’s 1822 book An Encylopaedia of Gardening starts to expand his list of fare available from the garden and here’s what he lists as spring begins, with most herbs coming out early:

March – Extra Brewing, Fattening Beasts, Paring and Burning, Oats and Grass in with other crops, Dealing with Moles, Dairy work, Sheep to pasture.

Culinary Vegetables from the open Garden, or Garden Stores. Brussels’ sprouts, borecoles of sorts, especially the early greens, and Breda cale, brocolis. Haricot beans and soup peas, from the seed-room. Potatoes, Jerusalem artichokes, turnip, carrot, red-beet, parsnip, skirret, scorzonera, and salsify. Spinach occasionally, if mild. Onions from the root-room; Welch onions, ciboules from the garden; garlick, shallot, and rocambole from the root-room. Sea-kale from covered beds. Lettuce, endive, celery, American and winter-cress; also water-cress, burnet and others. Parsley horse-radish, and dried fennel, dill, chervil, &c. Thyme, sage, rosemary from the open garden; and dried marjoram, basil, mint, savory, &c. from the herb-room. Rhubarb stalks from covered roots; anise, coriander, carraway, and other seeds, chamomile, blessed thistle, and other dried herbs. Samphire. Nettletops, dandelion-leaves, bladder campion-tops, watercresses, brook-lime, sauce-alone. Mushrooms from covered ridges. Common and red dulse, sea-belt, and pepper-dulse.

Hardy Fruits from the open Garden, Orchard, or Fruit-room. Apples, pears, quinces, medlars, services from the fruit-room. Some dried grapes. Almonds, walnuts, chestnuts, filberts from the fruit-room.

Culinary Productions and Fruits from the forcing Department. Kidney-beans. Potatoes, radishes. Sea-kale, asparagus. Small salads, onions. Parsley, mint, chervil, sweet marjoram. Rhubarb. Mushrooms. A pine occasionally; grapes, cucumbers, strawberries. Oranges, shaddocks, lemons, olives, preserved pomegranates. quats, pishamin-nuts, leeches, &c. yams, and Spanish potatoes.

Other than odd spellings (such as pishamin for persimmon, and quats for kumquats), here are a few other words that are uncommon these days:

borecoles –  comes from the Dutch word boerenkool and is another type of kale (also sometimes spelled cale).

ciboules – is another name for a green onion.

rocambole – this is a variety of garlic.

bladder campion-tops – this is a plant said to be best in spring when tender, and said to have a taste like a pea or asparagus.

brook lime – sometimes spelled as one word, this perennial herb has a peppery taste.

dulse – this refers to sea weed.

shaddocks – this is a fruit similar to grapefruit, and as a native to Southeast Asia would need to be grown inside a glasshouse.

Potatoes, of course, originate in South America, and so came to Spain first, and then spread across Europe and into Great Britain. In the early 1800s in England, the potato was still moving from being food fit for the poor into something that could be a staple across all classes.

Interestingly, what is thought of as a classic English dish–fish and chips–traces its roots to a Sephardic Jewish fried fish brought to England by Portuguese/Spanish immigrants, and then the fried potatoes come to England from Belgium. The first shop said to offer both fried fish and fried potatoes is credited to Joseph Malin, a Jewish immigrant in London who started serving up his fish and chips in the early 1860s.

A dog, a saddled horse held by a groom in a smock and several black-faced sheep http://www.artuk.org/artworks/a-white-horse-with-a-groom-and-sheep-in-a-barn-170168
Edmund Bristow’s A White Horse with a Groom, and Sheep in a Barn from the National Trust, Anglesey Abbey

February Foods in Regency England

Feb11

Shrove Tuesday is the last day before Lent begins on Ash Wednesday, typically falling anywhere from February 3 to sometime in early March. Traditionally, Shrove Tuesday Pancakes were made up as a last indulgence with butter and eggs, or all the things that might have to be given up for the forty days of Lent. In 2026, this will fall on February 17.

George Cruickshank’s print in ‘The Comic Almanack for 1837: An Ephemeris in Jest and Earnest Containing All Things Fitting For Such Work’ done under the penname of Rigdum Funnidos shows a cook tossing such a pancake.

Three children cheer on a cook, dressed in apron over her dress and a cap, while the lady of the house watches, and the kitchen maid stirs the batter. The lady has her hair up in back with curls at the side and a dress taht shows her shoulders--very 1830s. The cook uses an open fire, and the dishes are lined up in cabinet against the far wall. The two girls are in dresses--the older girl looking like a small version of her mother with bloomers showing under her dress--and the boy looks to be in a sailor suit with trousers. The thin, large pancake is in the air as

English pancakes tend to be more like what Americans think of as crepes and were often served with dinner or tea with just a sprinkle of sugar instead of the US idea of a thick breakfast stack with maple syrup poured over top.

Susannah Carter gives the following recipe in The Frugal Housewife (1822) for pancakes:

“In a quart of milk, beat six or eight eggs, leaving half the whites out; mix it well till your batter is of a fine thickness. You must observe to mix your flour first with a little milk, then add the rest by degrees; put in two spoonfuls of beaten ginger, a glass of brandy, a little salt; stir all together, clean the stew pan well, put in a piece of butter as big as a walnut, then pour in a ladleful of batter, moving the pan round that the batter be all over the pan: shake the pan, and when you think that side is enough, toss it; if you cannot, turn it cleverly; and when both sides are done, lay it in a dish before the fire; and so do the rest. You must take care they are dry; before sent to table, strew a little sugar over them.”

There was no baking powder yet to make fluffy pancakes, and the recipe doesn’t call for any type of yeast. While pearlash was around for leavening (you soak wood ash in water, strain it, then boil it until it makes a moist white powder). This wasn’t much in use in England for it doesn’t show up in cookbooks. Barm, also called ale yeast, does show up occasionally in recipes, but commercial yeast was readily available and used not just in bread, such as in cakes and puddings like “Dutch Pudding or Souster.”

From the garden and farm, John Loudon’s 1822 book An Encylopaedia of Gardening offers up this advise, along with vegetables and fruits, with spellings and punctuation the same as from his book:

FEBRUARY Planning and Preparing, Foaling, Start of Early Lambing in fields, Planting trees and bare root plants such as roses, root crops in, Pare and burn grass lands, Spread manure.

Scotch or Strasburgh cabbage, savoys, borecoles, Brussels’ sprouts, and, if a mild winter, cabbage coleworts, brocolis. Haricots, beans, and soup-peas from the seed-room. Potatoes, Jerusalem artichokes, turnip, carrot, parsnip, red-beet, skirret, scorzonera, and salsify. Spinach, if a mild winter. Onions, leeks, garlick, shallot, and rocambole. Sea-kale from covered beds. Lettuce, endive, celery. American and winter-cress. Parsley, if protected, horse-radish, and dried fennel, dill, chervil, &c. Thyme, sage, rosemary, and lavender, from the open garden; dried marjoram, basil, &c. from the herb-room. Rhubarb-stalks from covered roots, anise, coriander and carraway-seeds, from the seed-room; chamomile, &c. from the herb-room. Red cabbage, samphire. Nettle and thistle tops; towards the end, sorrel leaves, and if a mild winter, sauce-alone. Mushrooms from covered ridges. Sea-belt preserved, and occasionally badder-locks.

Hardy Fruits from the open Garden, Orchard, or Fruit-Room. Apples, pears, quinces, medlars, services from the fruit-room. Some plums from branches hung up in the fruit-room. Dried grapes and currants from branches hung up in the fruit-room. Almonds, walnuts, chestnuts, filberts from the fruit-room. Sloes from dried branches hung up in the fruit-room.

Culinary Productions and Fruits from the forcing Department. Kidney beans. Potatoes. Sea-kale, asparagus. Small salads. Parsley, mint, chervil. Rhubarb. Mushrooms. A pine occasionally; grapes, cucumbers, strawberries. Oranges, lemons, olives, pomegranates. Pishamin-nuts, lee chees. Yams, and Spanish potatoes.

  • Borecoles is a type of kale.
  • Haricots are green beans.
  • Jerusalem artichoke is a hardy, starchy root plant that has nothing to do with artichokes, but has more in common with potatoes and mashes up very well.
  • Skirret, also a root plant which means hardy for winter, is said to taste like carrot.
  • Scorzonera is another root vegetable that tastes a bit like an artichoke.
  • Salsify is also call oyster vegetable since it has a oyster-like taste.
  • Rocambole is another name for a shallot, which can still be found in many modern markets.
  • Samphire does still show up in English cooking, and grows in marshy areas. It is from the parsley family, looks like baby asparagus, and has a crisp, salty taste.
  • Sea-belt and bladder-locks are both types of seaweed.
  • Medlars is described as tasting like spiced applesauce.
  • Services are a type of strawberry.
  • Filberts are what is called a hazelnut in the US.
  • Chervril is a herb similar to parsley.
  • ‘Pine’ means a pineapple, which are touchy to grow in England (they do look a bit like a pinecone).
A lady and her daughter buy fruits or vegetables from a woman at a grocer in London
James Pollard The Green Grocer (c. 1819)

Lady Lost – IndieBRAG Gold Medal

Jan19

I’m delighted to announce that Lady Lost–the final book in the Regency Ladies in Distress series–was awarded the IndieBRAG Gold Medal.

Books are judged by readers and rated on the quality of the writing, characters, and even the covers. This is particularly rewarding since the story took forever (and a day) to actually get finished–some characters just are not very good at showing up on the page right away.

A historical scene depicting people dressed in early 19th-century clothing in a colonnade, with men in military uniforms and women in elegant dresses interacting and socializing.
Georg Emanuel Opiz, 1815

The other issue was research into Paris and France in 1815, with Napoleon returning from exile, the fun of using the Palais Royal in the story–seen in an 1815 painting at left with the courtesans of Paris and the troops that occupied the city after Waterloo.

François Pascal Simon Gérard

I also wanted to weave in a mystery having to do with the Regent Diamond, which was taken from Paris by Napoleon’s Empress, the Archduchess Marie Louise of Austria (she took it with her to Austria in 1814 and it had to be returned. It is shown at right mounted into the hilt of Napoleon’s coronation sword, and almost lost in the folds of sash and gold trim, and all the robes and glitter that Napoleon insisted on wearing (talk about a man who was insecure about his less than royal background),

I also wanted to use Joseph Fouché, the duc d’Otrante, who was Napoleon’s head of the Secret Police, and then fell out with the Emperor. Lots of great stories there, with spies and counterspies, and a Paris on edge as it waited for what would come next in March of 1815.

All this meant looking for details that would make the story come alive–and weave in the story of Jules, Lord Sandal who is on a errand to help ing Louis, who has fled Paris, and his involvement with the illusionist, Madame de Mystére, otherwise known as Simone Raucourt. A lord and a stage actress made for a great couple and plenty for them to talk about what with her still holding revolutionary ideals.

One of the biggest challenges was to map out Paris–Napoleon did a lot of building, but Baron Haussmann changed Paris even more in the mid 1800s.

Paris Map 1810
Turgot Map 1819

A Visit to Paris in 1814 by John Scott was of use, as was John Quincy Adam’s diary for his travels in 1815, including a stay in Paris. It was more than fun to research the elegant restaurants, such as’ the Café des Mille Colonnes, noted for its gilt columns, mirrors, and having the madam of the business sit on a chair that once housed the Viceroy of Italy, and was purchased for twelve thousand livres! Edward Planta’s 1816 A new picture of Paris; or, The stranger’s guide to the French metropolis while set a little after the date I wanted was helpful. But I was sad that I couldn’t find a place to include a scene with Monsier Leroy.

Louis Hippolyte Leroy founded the House of Leroy, and billed himself as “Fashion Merchant of her Majesty the Empress [Joséphine]”. His house named Maison Boutin, stood at rue de la Loi, which is now rue de Richelieu. He was ahead of his time in that he did not do the designs, but bought them from designers, and sold ensembles–meaning head to toe, hat to shoe, and everything else to go with a dress.

The cut scene is here:

Jules kept up a patter of nonsense. Something about how the rue de Richelieu was named for some cardinal of fame, and came to be called rue Royale, and then rue de la Loi before the Emperor restored its name. Simone did not want to think about such things. She had faint memories of the Terror from when she’d been a girl—mostly the fear in everyone’s eyes, the lack of an audience in any play, the need to always have a caution about what one said. She shivered. It seemed those times had never truly left Paris.

When the coach stopped, she tried to pull herself together. Jules had given her back her house key and she held it in one clenched fist, letting the metal bite through her thin glove leather. “Where?”

“Maison Boutin.” Jules said, handing her down from the carriage. “Monsieur Leroy dresses royalty, duchesses…and my mother.”

“And offers prices to go with?” Simone muttered. She glanced at the front door with footmen either side in pale blue livery, their black collars starting to gleam with damp. Jules hurried her past them, out of the wet. Inside, the luxury made her catch her breath and then wince at the contrast to her ruined rooms. More footmen carried silver trays with crystal goblets that gleamed in candlelight. Clients lounged on brocade sofas and chairs, and prints of exquisite garments hung on the walls. Women walked into the room dressed in the latest fashion, twirled to display the gowns to potential buyers, and retreated again. She had never seen the like.

A man in his early fifties, thick-set, with an air of importance came up to them and bowed. He dressed in the latest fashion of Cossack trousers and a tight-fitting coat in peacock blue that buttoned over his waistcoat, the ends of which peaked out giving glimpses of silver embroidery. He gave Simone an arrogant once up and down that left her face flaming hot, but Jules stepped forward. “You dressed my mother this past spring, and now my lady is in need of a new wardrobe.”

“Mother?” The older man stiffened. “I count amongst my clientele two empresses and all the crowned heads of Europe.”

“Yes, I daresay Vienna may know your name, but London is still to be impressed. That may yet happen. Lady Sandal has been known to set the rage.” He swept his hat off, dragged off his gloves and nodded at Simone. “She’ll need the usual fripperies to go with her gowns. You know the sort of thing. Corsets, hats, gloves, fans, bouquets, handkerchiefs, stockings, shoes, and…those unmentionables. The complete toilette. I’ve a line of credit with Rothschild, so cost is not to be considered, but I should like to see her in at least three day dresses, something for travel, a couple of evening gowns. Perhaps a court dress—not for here, you understand, but something to make a bow to the Prince Regent. He does like a pretty face in a pretty dress.”

The older man—it must be Leroy himself, Simone decided—began to smile. “Of course. A private room, perhaps.”

Simone found herself swept up stairs, installed on yet another brocade chair, gold damask curtains shading the room. Jules turned away to stare out the windows, and women in the same livery of light blue, the dresses made up with black collars, came in to measure and fuss with her.

Pink satin embroidered in steel, an apron gown, a redingote in Spanish Tobacco, a court dress of gold and silver over cream satin, a white robe of crepe trimmed with blonde lace, an evening gown of white taffeta edged in satin, a day dress of cotton percale with a dotted pattern, and another stripped periwinkle blue with camellia satin ribbons and white roses at the waist. Each came with shoes, gloves, bonnets, and shawls to complete the look—half-boots in periwinkle, with a bonnet also trimmed in white roses. A cashmere dress, trimmed at the hem with a lavish design, with a red velvet torque and red shawl, red boots and gloves. The colors swirled before her. She Sent a glance to Jules—she could not choose, could not even think. She sat with her hands clenched in her lap.

Paris General Plan 1814 to 1815
Paris General Plan 1814-1815

January Foods in 1822

Jan1
John Loudon portrait

In the Regency era, the best gardeners were though to come from Scotland, and John Claudius Loudon certainly helped cement that idea. His portrait at left shows him looking both prosperous and rather Scottish. He is noted as being the first to use the word ‘arboretum’ in his writings, he was a botanist, garden designer, and author, and his wife, Jane Webb, was also a horticulturalist, and author. It was a talented family. An Encylopaedia of Gardening by Loudon speaks to the wide variety of produce available in England in 1822, and also how nuts were linked to fruit. Some reference are very odd to the modern reader:

  • Rocket, of course, is called arugula in the US.
  • Savoys means a type of cabbage, known for crinkled leaves.
  • When he says ‘kidney beans for harricots’ he means that kidney beans replace the French beans (or what is called green beans in the US).
  • Fuci is the plural for Fucus a type of seaweed (obviously, you’d have to be near the sea to get this along with other coastal plants).
  • Borecoles is a type of kale.
  • Jerusalem artichoke is a hardy, starchy root plant that has nothing to do with artichokes, but has more in common with potatoes and mashes up very well.
  • Skirret, also a root plant which means hardy for winter, is said to taste like carrot.
  • Scorzonera is another root vegetable that tastes a bit like an artichoke.
  • Rocambole is another name for a shallot, which can still be found in many modern markets.
  • Elecampane or ‘elf wort’ is one of those medicinal herbs from ancient times, said to be good for ‘lung issues’.
  • Samphire does still show up in English cooking, and grows in marshy areas. It is from the parsley family, looks like baby asparagus, and has a crisp, salty taste.
  • Wild services refers to a small, edible, pear-like fruits from a tree native to England that is now rare.
  • Haws are the red berries from the Hawthorn tree.
  • ‘Pine’ means a pineapple, which are touchy to grow in England (they do look a bit like a pinecone).
  • Filberts is another name for hazelnuts, and nuts in shells used to be a common thing in many stores, but now everything seems to come in a can or a jar.
  • Cloud-berries (or cloudberries) are bright, amber-colored fruits similar to cranberries in that they are tart and need water to thrive. They were once common in England, but not so much anymore.

Loudon speaks of the open garden, a fruit-room, and the forcing-room. The latter would be some sort of hot house or glass-house that allowed for heating to extend the growing season. His spellings and variations on capitalization are also left in place here—standardization of such things is a more modern idea. He does mention some plants if not ruined by rain or frost, which would be common problems, and use of frames (anything placed over a plant to protect it from frost—this could be a large glass jar or burlap or a large metal bell).

Pickling and storing in such places as a herb room, or in barrels in a cold place would be common, as in a ‘fruit-cellar’ or any cold room. As already noted, food storage—potting, pickling, and otherwise preserving—was a vital necessity, along with making certain you got the bugs (called vermine by period sources) off anything grown outside.

Loudon includes general notes, too, for agricultural tasks set out for the year, but let’s just look at the first of the year. I do have to say I would adore a garden large enough to have a ‘forcing department’.

JANUARY

Dealing with rot (in animal hooves and plants), Weaning pigs, Fence work, Fattening Beasts (oil cake and corn), Liming, Improvements, Pruning.

Vegetables from the open Garden or Garden Stores. Strasburg cabbage, savoys, borecoles, Brussels’ sprouts. Kidney beans for haricots, and Prussian and other peas. Potatoes, Jerusalem artichokes, turnip, carrot, parsnip, red beet, skirret, scorzonera, and salsify, from the seed-room. Spinach in mild seasons; also sorrel and white beet. Onions, leeks, garlick, shallot, and rocambole. Sea-kale from the covered beds. Lettuce, endive, celery, American and winter-cress. Parsley, if protected, horse-radish, and dried fennel, dill, chervil, &c. Thyme, sage, rosemary, lavender, from the open garden, and dried marjoram, savory, mint, basil, &c. from the herb-room. Rhubarb-stalks from covered roots; anise, coriander and carraway seeds, chamomile, elecampane, blessed thistle, &c. dried. Red cabbage and samphire. Wild rocket, wild spinach, sauce-alone, and sorrel, if a mild winter. Mushrooms from covered ridges. Sea-belt, or sweet fucus, dried.

Four clay pots on dirt near a garden wall
Rhubarb forcing pots From geograph.org.uk

Hardy Fruits from the Open Garden, Orchard, or Fruit-Room. Apples, pears, quinces, medlars, services from the fruit-room. Some plums and morello cherries, carefully preserved on the trees. Some thick-skinned gooseberries, currants, and grapes, preserved on the trees. Some dried fruits of the same sorts on branches hung up in the fruit-room. Almonds, walnuts, chestnuts, filberts from the fruit-room. Sloes from the bushes, wild services, hips, haws, and sometimes a few cloud-berries.

A well occupied library opens into a glasshouse with plants. One child looks at a large book held by an adult. A lady holds large harp. A young couple sit by a table while older folks read. In the glasshouse several couples and a lady with a child tour the plants.
Glasshouse design by Humphry Repton, 1816 from Fragments on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening

Culinary Vegetables and Fruits from the forcing Department. Kidney beans. Potatoes. Sea-kale. Small salads. Parsley, Fennel. Rhuharb. Mushrooms. Pines, winter melons, grapes, strawberries, cucumbers occasionally. Oranges, olives, and pomegranates. Malay apple, loquats, and lee-chees. Yams, and Spanish potatoes.

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:John_and_Jane_Loudon_(4644568348).jpg
John and Jane Loudon blue plaque at 3 Porchester Terrace, Bayswater, London
London County Council
Here lived John and Jane Loudon
1783-1845 and 1807-1858
Their horticultural work gave new beauty to London squares

Things We No Longer Ask For

Sep13

I love old cookbooks–they are a glimpse into a past era. They also often have great recipes. Reading Dorothy Hartley’s wonderful Food in England got me thinking about how there are certain foods and drinks we no longer ask for when dining out, such as:

Meat and fish hanging, bread, cooked eggs, glassware, parsnips, lemon, platters on a side table all in a larder or kitchen

A joint of beef — we have all sorts of fancy cuts these days.

Johnnycakes — these are actually delicious…they are basically a cornmeal fried bread, meaning like a pancake but with more crunch. Easy to make, too.

Mutton — it is still possible to find lamb in some supermarkets, but mutton has gone completely out of fashion (no old sheep for a low cost meal).

Pig cheeks — still available in some parts of the world, and by all accounts, the best part of the pig. Also called pork cheeks, and this goes along with calf cheeks or beef cheeks, a specialty of the Café Procope, one of the oldest cafes in Paris.

cucumber or parmesan ice cream — it is difficult enough these days to find real parmesan cheese.

watercress and egg sandwiches — these can be found in some tea shops still (thankfully), but watercress can be difficult to come by in many modern supermarkets (at least in the US).

gruel — this is an unlovely name and the food has a bad rep from the Victorian era, but some recipes call for butter, brandy, and enough spices to make this a very tasty mean (it’s basically think oatmeal).

A pot of ale — while ale is still around, it usually comes in cans, bottles, or a pint or half pint. The pint pot has long ago been replaced with glass.

A bowl of punch — this used to be a highly alcoholic drink, but these days folks are more likely to think of punch being a fruity drink without brandy, champagne, rum, and other spirts all mixed together. The bowl is no longer with us either for dipping into with a mug or cup.

A posset — this was a hot drink made from curdled milk and sack or a sweet sherry.

A flip — another drink (more alcohol) usually made with beer, rum, eggs, and heated with a poker (not the one used to stir the fire, but a special poker used just to heat drinks).

A purl — another hot drink made with beer, gin, nutmeg, and sugar.

That is just a few things we generally must make ourselves if we want to sample something from the past (unless we find a place that also likes to keep going with what were once old favorites).

Thomas Rowlandson Naval Officers and a bowl of Punch

Lady Catherine’s Salon for Tea

Aug12

There’s a quote from Shakespeare in Love (wonderful movie, with a terrific script from Marc Norman and Tom Stoppard, and Geoffrey Rush stealing scenes as usual, and as Philip Henslowe, Rush has the lines: “…, allow me to explain about the theatre business. The natural condition is one of insurmountable obstacles on the road to imminent disaster.” That, too is the writing business overall, and as Henslowe goes on to say, “Strangely enough, it all turns out well.” How? Well, that is the mystery.

And that brings me to heading over to Lady Catherine’s Salon next week.

Tea cup and cookie

I’ll be there to answer questions, and post in general about the mystery of writing–and the less mysterious bits–and talk about the research that goes into a Regency, along with talking about some of my favorite books, just doing what one does with tea–talking.

There is good reason that “scandalbroth” was a name for tea–it is the time to swap gossip and brew scandal along with the beverage. I’ll be drinking my favorite right now (Lady Gray, a variation of Earl Gray, but with less bergamot, however, I am very fond of an excellent Gunpowder if it can be hand, or a smoky Lapsang souchong).

So please feel free to join me at the salon…asking those questions you might like to ask. We’ll see what we can do about all that mystery (maybe even create a little more, for every story ought to have a little mystery).

Flow

Aug4

Recently I read a book where the flow of the story was chopped off in the jump from chapter one to chapter two. I’ve also read books where the flow was interrupted from one sentence to the next, or one paragraph to the next. Flow hits on all levels from word to word all the way up across the story.

Flow is one of those important, yet, neglected writing topics. This may be due to being something difficult to really nail down.

We read about pacing all the time—how the story needs to have good pacing and not sag in the middle. Flow is a little different. Flow is about linking thoughts to gently pull the reader along. The Truman Capote quote may sum it up best, “’What I am trying to achieve is a voice sitting by a fireplace telling you a story on a winter’s evening.” That is a very good way to think about flow. It can make the writing seem effortless, very much like a river that is just moving along.

Desna River at dawn. Ukraine

The flow can be in fast paced or slow stories. Flow is more about linking one word to the next, one sentence to the next, one paragraph to the next, one scene to the next, and one chapter to the next. It is about using words and sentences in such a way that the reader is engaged—but never thrust from the story. It is very much like a river’s flow that move on without the reader noticing the water is being deliberately move.

Write Away by Elizabeth George Book Cover

This idea was first introduced to me by Elizabeth George’s excellent book Write Away. It is something a writer should think about, but I believe it is something to work on after you get the basics of craft down and you’re looking to bump your writing to the next level. It can leave a writer choked if thought about too much. It also is something that shows up if you read your work aloud.

That trick of reading a story aloud is one that I often think is neglected. Different things show up when you read a story aloud—and it is a pity we’ve lost the habit of sitting down in an evening with one person reading while others do handicraft. Typos jump out, stumbles become clear, and flow—or the lack of it—becomes much more obvious.

Flow is about word choice, but also about sentence structure, and how paragraphs are built. This is why I consider it a more advanced topic for a writer—if you’re still struggling with the basics of building a character, of crafting dialogue, and structuring a scene, flow is something to look at after you finish a book or two.

In an article by David Jass on ‘What Writes Mean by Flow’ he speaks to the importance of syntax and writes that, “…altering our syntax does more than help us write flowing prose; it allows us to get our thoughts off the normal track on which they run.” When it comes to the use of syntax and varying sentence structure Jass quotes Robert Hass, “New rhythms are new perceptions.” This is what someone means when they say the writing is or isn’t fresh.

So…fresh and flow…and syntax. It is enough to stumble any writer into a block—too much thinking about this can be deadly. But if you write enough words, you will start to find your own flow…and when you get to revising what you’ve written this is where a focus on flow becomes important (also called word choices, and syntax or use of variable sentence structures).

One general guideline that helps me is to keep in mine one thought to a sentence, one topic to a paragraph. If I chop up sentences, or paragraphs, I want to do so with intent for the scene and still keep flow in mined even as I look at the pace. Thinking about the emotion behind each word—its connotations as well as its meaning—and looking at how the sentences and paragraphs, and scenes reveal character I want to keep asking a couple of questions. What should the reader feel? And is it all getting too intellectual? Sometimes, if the emotion is on the page, you want to leave things alone.

I do believe that if you write long enough you start to get a handle on flow with a writer’s instinct. I also believe that reading a lot can help with absorbing this idea of flow. It also helps to stop and take apart a sentence, or paragraph, or scene that either thuds for you or has that “flow”. (This is the curse of a writer—you start to read like a writer, not like a reader.) To head back to the analogy of a river running, leading inevitably to the sea, that is why the word “flow” crops up for writing. The story can carries the reader along is the one the reader has trouble putting down—I’ll just read one more chapter, a few more pages…oh, I finished the book and I want the next one from that writer. Flow is attached to a writer’s voice—it’s not just the rhythms of thought, it is the rhythms of intent. It is something that makes writing forever an interesting challenge.

Finding the Theme in Your Story

Jul13
Fountain Pen, Paper and writing

I’ve been reading some contest entries of late, and one thing that struck me is that I don’t see the point of the story emerging right away to hook me into the story. Theme is the point of a story–it is why it has to be written. It may be something a writer naturally puts in (I envy those folks), but most writers need to think about theme and make it stronger by intentionally building it into the story and weaving it in to everything.

But let’s start with a definition: Theme is an idea that recurs in or pervades a work of art or literature.

Another good definition is that theme is the underlying idea an author is trying to convey to an audiences.

If you write a novel, spend weeks and then months catching it word by word,
you owe it both to the book and to yourself to lean back
(or take a long walk) when you’ve finished and ask yourself why you bothered—
why you spent all that time, why it seemed so important.
In other words, what’s it all about, Alfie? — Stephen King

In other words, the theme is really the ‘big idea’ that is woven through the entire story. It is a critical belief about life that transcends cultural barriers. It is usually universal in nature, and works best if it is integral to the story, instead of only being used once (which can make it come across as heavy handed, like a club over the head).

Another way to think of theme is that it is a touchstone. Theme is going to help you develop your characters, their main goal, and the main need for each character. It will tell you what you need in the story, and what you need to leave out. It will tell you what should be the dark moment or climax of the main character’s arc. Theme is what makes a story resonate with a reader long after the story has ended.

Theme can be a statement, or a question posed to explore, and smaller themes may echo the larger one. You do have to be careful about making theme a statement. That can make the writing preachy, or come across as a message instead of strong story with vital characters. Sometimes it is best to go with a theme that has you needing to answer that question.

I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking,
what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means.
What I want and what I fear. — Joan Didion

Theme also tends to work best if it is something that, as noted above, resonates with you, the writer. If the theme is just an intellectual exercise and doesn’t hit home with you, it can come across to the reader as ‘shoved into place’ or not really fitting—it stands out like a red flag in a field of green grass.

Now, when I say theme is what the story is really about, this does not mean theme is the action that describes the plot.

As in: Two people fall in love, but their families hate each other due to a long-standing feud.

That describes the action of ‘Romeo & Juliette’, but not the theme. Now there are several smaller themes int he play, but a main theme is that “We cannot overcome our fates.” Romeo is fated to fall in love with Juliette. Their love is fated to have a tragic outcome. And Mercutio—the man caught in the middle—is fated to die.

Romeo and Juliet Balcony Scene by Dicksee (lat
Oil Painting by Frank Bernard Dicksee, 1884

To look at another example, “Lord, what fools these mortals be,” pretty much comes right out to state the theme of “love makes fools of us all” for A Midsummer’s Night’s Dream.

Theme may be explicitly stated by a character. (In Blake Snyder’s book on screenwriting, Save the Cat, he argues for this to be a beat in the story, and indeed this can make for a great scene.) Or theme may be woven into motifs and thematic elements—such as Mercutio’s death foreshadowing the tragic fates awaiting Romeo and Juliette.

Here is one simple rule to remember:
Characters carry theme. — James Scott Bell

Theme does need to be both rejected by the characters, and then proven at some point, usually in the climatic moment of the story. You usually see theme best at the ‘dark moment’ of a story.

Theme shows up in songs as well (beyond thematic melodies). Think of favorite songs that really resonate with you and you’ll find more than a catchy melody. Theme can be something you explore in one book, in several, or over a lifetime of writing.

‘Nowhere Man’ embodies one of my favorite themes—the hero completely out of his element.
It’s really near and dear to my heart. — Ruth Glick

I used a theme of “What is too great a compromise of self in any relationship?” to explore the idea of compromise to make a relationship work, and I used this over three books. Another theme I’m drawn to is “How do you find a sense of belonging in this world?” I used that in the Proper Series Regency romances I wrote. You may well find yourself drawn back to the same theme over and over. It’s quite possible to either have a lot to say about a theme, or do want to really push into a theme in different ways. A great theme can be explored over a lifetime of work. It’s all about if you still have more to say or discover about that theme.

So…how do you find your theme?

To Learn How to Identify Theme

Pick out three favorite books from your keeper shelf.  Look at the opening when the protagonist’s life is thrown out of balance, and then look at the dark moment.  See if you can identify theme from those two moments–it’ll be a moment early on when the protagonist doesn’t think that theme holds true, and the dark moment is a moment of realization that relates to the theme.

If you can’t find the theme there, head to three favorite movies–again, look for that early scene when the protagonist is thrown into hot water, and then toward the end when the protagonist is faced with the toughest choice.

Finding Themes

With a pen and paper (writing by hand connects left/right brain in a different way than does a keyboard) Write down what ticks you off? What lights a fire inside you? What do you feel compelled to write about? Jot down three things that hit you emotionally.

Now….look at a story you are currently working on. What is it about? Write a sentence that poses a core, emotional question for that story. Then compare the two—are you writing about something that really hits you emotionally?

Another Way to Find Theme

Write down a paragraph about your main character’s arc in the story you’re working on.

Now, read it over, and see if you can condense this to a one sentence theme. The main character’s arc—what the protagonist faces as a dark moment—is going to help reveal theme to you.

If you can’t find your theme right away, don’t sweat it. Start writing, and wait for the theme to show up. That sometimes happens anywhere from 40 to 100 pages into the story. That’s when you can go back and start weaving it. Or even get the book done, and then figure out what needs to be cut or added or changed. Editing is your friend–and sometimes the ending reveals the true beginning, along with that theme.

The first draft is just you telling yourself the story.
—Terry Pratchett

Coffee – As Important as Tea

Jun4

I’ve just finished up the Regency Food and Seasons workshop for Regency Fiction Writers, and there’s always some ephemera that doesn’t quite make it into the workshop. This one is a poster from 1840 showing coffee being grown, what the leaf and bean looked like, roasting, grinding, and serving it up.

We tend to associate tea drinking with England–thanks to the high tea that came along in the late 1800s. But coffee was just as important a beverage–perhaps even more so–in the late 1700s and early 1800s. Coffee houses became all the rage in the 1600s, and continued to be so into the Regency era in England.

Not everyone was a fan of the coffee house (they also would serve drinking chocolate, tea, and punch, and provided newspapers to read). As reported on The Gazette UK website, “On 29 December 1675, a proclamation by the king was published that forbade coffee houses to operate after 10 January 1676 (Gazette issue 1055), because ‘the Idle and Disaffected persons’ who frequent these establishment have led to ‘very evil and dangerous Effects’ and ‘malicious and scandalous reports to the defamation of His Majesties Government’.” Meaning, of course that folks were talking politics. The notice gave warning that, “after the 10th day of January ensuing, to keep any publick Coffeehouse, or to utter or sell .… any Coffee, Chocolet, Sherbett or Tea, or they will answer the contrary at their utmost Perils’. Licences were to be made void, and if continued to trade, given a forfeiture of £5 per month and then ‘the severest Punishments that may by Law be inflicted’.” Naturally, the whole thing went bust, along with a “Women’s Petition Against Coffee” which reported it made men talk too much–it was, of course, yet another political maneuver that lacked popular support.

Folks kept drinking coffee, grocers added the beans to their stock (along with tea leaves), and porcelain manufacture created lovely tea and coffee sets, some as large as 40 pieces including cups, saucers, pots and everything else needed. Silversmiths also did a good trade, such as for this coffee pot, tea pot, creamer and sugar holder from 1800 made by John Emes, with gilt interiors.

Jane Austen wrote in a letter, commenting on her brother’s habits, that, “It is rather impertinent to suggest any household care to a housekeeper, but I just venture to say that the coffee-mill will be wanted every day while Edward is at Steventon, as he always drinks coffee for breakfast.” Coffee would also be brought into the drawing room with tea after dinner, so that guests could have a choice of beverage.

All these thoughts about coffee come–not just due to my being a coffee drinker, for I also love my morning and afternoon tea–but due to a headline that, ‘Your coffee habit could be linked to healthier aging, study finds‘. Good news for those of us who love that morning coffee…and who are getting up in years.

So drink up and enjoy your coffee…and you can still fit in that afternoon tea as well–green tea, after all, is so good for you as well.

What’s the Recipe?

Apr7

There’s always a big question with any writing—what do you put in and what do you leave out? This is not just confined to scenes and characters, but also to information, particularly to research to make a story come to life.

This may be why I’m also drawn to cooking—it is still the same idea of what do you put in and what is better left out. Food in general is just a terrific topic. When it comes to history, it is fascinating both how tastes change and how much stays the same. For example, the English classic ‘Toad in the Hole’ (such an odd name, since it has no toads and not much in the way of holes) goes back at least to the 1700s. That was a time when cookbooks really started to flourish.

Rolandson Bird Eye View Covent Garden 1811

Cookbooks are both an insight into a period and also something of an insight into a way of thinking. I love that earlier cookbooks use measurement such as “a good handful”. Is that my hand? A small hand? A man’s big hand? And then there’s ingredients such as “blade of mace” (I had to look that one up). Then there’s the spellings to deal with, and how sometimes the instructions leave out some steps, assuming that everyone knows the obvious.

Assumptions—that brings me back to thinking about recipes and the idea of leaving in or out. We sometimes assume someone will know something, but what if the reader doesn’t get it? What if the assumption is wrong? The opposite can be just as bad. We assume the reader doesn’t know so now we slip into overexplaining. Too much detail can be as bad as too little.

One of the keys I find is to make certain the details are always interesting. I find this is true when I did into those old cookbooks.

Two different authors will have the same recipe, but one manage to infuse energy and interest into the writing. This can be done with a point of view put onto the writing. It can also be done with a just a little finesse. There’s a difference between “put the chicken in the pot and boil until done” and “put a fine chicken into a gentle simmer of water and cook until plumped”.

In May I’m doing a workshop for Regency Fiction Writers on Regency Food and Seasons—always good to put those two together (sometimes I think very few people these days know what a truly ripe summer peach tastes like). It’s a workshop I’ve done before, but with history you can always learn more. That means dusting off the writing for the lectures, and more dives down research rabbit holes…and having to make that call as to what should be put in and what is better taken out.

The workshop covers far more than seasons, with a look at kitchens of the era, markets (particularly those in London), a jaunt across the seasons of the year and holiday fare, shops for food in London such as the Italian Warehouses, the eating houses available in places such as London. It’s a broad look at an even broader topic, covering cookbooks of the era which offer up some great recipes, and just some things I couldn’t leave out just because sometimes it’s the cool details that add that spark of insight into a time and place.

Squire's Kitchen Rowlandson

For more about the workshop head to Regency Fiction Writers.