I will never write enough
I am a poet,
Keeper of flowers
Dwelling-place of storm.
My emotions
Manifest in
Terrifying form.
I can destroy you
With my words,
Feeling no remorse,
Or I can calm you,
Fighting battles
For you at the source.
I’ve learned there is
No middle ground:
Believe me, I tried.
I am a dwelling-place
Of storm;
Friend, I never lied.
Yesterday, the blue and gray
Skies rolling overhead,
Sighing, seemed to me to say
The rivers had turned red.
Treading gentle on the grass,
I sought peace but found none.
April, she had come to pass,
Her faithful weeping done.
Musical, the ancient trees
Groaned with the bluegray sky.
Their duet, a mournful sound,
Spoke of a world awry.
One persistent hummingbird
Called, as if I could save
Her home from the fate I heard,
A hundred-acre grave.
As I trekked an ancient trail,
Trees around me died.
Had April seen her tears fail,
Longer she’d have cried.
White horses are
Sea turtles.
I cannot tell my world from theirs.
Coral, I watch wildflowers
Bloom before my eyes.
The breeze to me
Feels like a wave,
Tousling my hair.
I don’t think I belong here,
My home is not there.
Bottle up your pain
In an old, glass jar.
Let it sit there for a day
‘Til it’s black as tar.
Fall down on the grass,
Find a feather there.
Take your bottle; feel the sun
Shine down on your hair.
Use the feather, trace
Feelings in the dirt.
It would be a shame to waste the
Art found in your hurt.
If a leaf falls down,
Take to it with ink.
Rinse your newly emptied jar;
Just don’t stain the sink.
Finally, you’ll breathe;
Pressure, it will fade.
This is how the realest sort
Of poetry is made.
I am building calluses
Around my heart.
Nobody can come in
To hear my song.
She’s losing strength
Because I exposed her
To empty souls who
Did not know,
That she is a melody
Few have heard,
And she is timid.
She will hide.
I will not forsake her
Or sing her to the dark,
So I am building calluses
Around my heart.
You were never going to see me
Among all the other flowers,
Watching idle as the strangers
Daily passed me by.
I am not unlike my sisters,
Neither am I just like them;
We are gathered as a body
Staring at the sky.
If you deign to come in closer
And, for once, get on your knees,
You might see my red is different—
Only by a hue—
Maybe if you bowed your head
And plucked me from the ground,
You could press me in a book,
A love poem for you.
I enjoy it when historical fiction books are written in different settings. So many seem to take place during the Season or inside of country houses. Though these books are enjoyable, a different setting ensures that I will remember the story.
The Captain’s Daughter by Jennifer Delamere provided a new setting. A good deal of the novel takes place backstage at a theater! Before reading this book, I hadn’t pondered how playwrights enchanted their audiences. How did they produce the special effects? It was no small feat!
The novel follows two characters involved in theater. First, we meet Rosalyn who, having fled a sticky situation, finds herself alone in London. Her hope was to join her sisters in Bristol, but when she is robbed of her belongings, it becomes clear she’ll need to work to keep a roof over her head. That is when she is hired by a theater to help with the costumes.
The second character, Nate, is a soldier. Having been injured in battle, he’s waiting at home for the wound to heal. He blames the accident on having been reckless and in love, and has sworn never to fall again, convinced it only weakens the judgment. Much to my delight, his conviction wavers when he meets Rosalyn.
If you’re looking for clean, entertaining historical fiction, The Captain’s Daughter is bold and unique! I finished it in a day!
Author Jennifer Delamere was kind enough to answer some questions about her novel. She offers words of encouragement for writers like me who might see the writing process with apprehension. I’m sure they will help you, too. To learn more about Jennifer, visit her website–and read her books!
While researching, did something surprise you about the time period? Why?
I was surprised to discover that London’s Underground Railway (now generally referred to as the Tube), was the first in the world—and that it was opened in 1863! I had always thought subways were a much later invention. However, I should not have been surprised, as the Victorians were at the vanguard of so many engineering feats, from railroads to massive city sewer works. The first underground trains used steam engines, making the ride smoky, as you might imagine. They were not electrified until the early 20th century. For books two and three of this series (The Heart’s Appeal and The Artful Match), I enjoyed being able to set scenes on the London Underground.
What are some old customs you would like to see return to fashion?
I would love to see more etiquette in our dealings with one another. Today our social interactions are somewhat of a free-for-all. Although often dismissed as stuffy and constraining, I think having agreed-upon standards could actually make people more comfortable instead of less so. They would know what to do instead of wondering or feeling clueless. And I’d love to see a return of real dancing! From English reels to waltzes to the foxtrot. Very few people seem to know how to dance today, but it used to be a common pastime. Seems like it made courtship a lot more interesting, too!
As a historical fiction author, which titles would you recommend to fans of the genre?
There are too many good ones to name! And of course, it depends on reader preferences. I can recommend the website for the Historical Novel Society (historicalnovelsociety.org), where anyone looking for a great read can search the reviews by genre (romance, mystery, thriller, western, etc.) and by time period. You might even find yourself stretching a bit by choosing a novel set in a time period or place that you haven’t read about before.
Do you have words of encouragement for the author struggling through the writing process?
Yes – keep at it! Do all you can to learn more about the craft. This includes reading books on writing, attending workshops, and considering feedback from fellow authors. While doing all this, keep writing. It takes time and application of what you’re learning to really digest the information you find in other sources, and then to figure out what to keep and what to set aside. Certain things, such as good story structure, are fairly immutable. Learn those rules well before trying to break them. Other things, such as writing style or how to write your drafts (outlining vs. not outlining, for example), you can refine as you discover what works for you. Ultimately your writing process will not be exactly like anyone else’s. So embrace that! Enjoy the discovery process of how you write as well as what you write. Also remember that no one’s first draft is perfect. Even the best authors have to edit and rewrite. So don’t get discouraged. Just keep writing.
After one month in its pages, I have finished The Pickwick Papers. It is part of my 2019 Classic Novel Challenge, one of the longer ones on the list. I’m unable to critique writing by my favorite author. How can I nitpick the gripping prose, the humorous twists and turns, the delightful poetry?
I cannot criticize work by Charles Dickens, so instead I will continue wishing I could write like him.
If I were to write like Charles Dickens, I imagine I would focus on the characters. There are so many, and the author follows many of their storylines. This way, we can see him weaving an elaborate world. How could I follow so many characters at once? If I wanted to write like him, I would need to practice having an eye on each and every one of them.
There would be a past for every traitor, a flaw for every hero. I would make readers hesitate to judge anyone harshly. I would give even the most unlikeable characters their humanity. Dialogue would be a treat to read because of my attention to dialect, the nuances that separate one protagonist from the other.
With enough detail, the most fantastic main character will feel real.
I would use words to bring out the chasm between the wealthy and poor, the places no one wants to go and the places everyone wants to be. I would show readers the homeless and destitute, how they are forgotten but still human. Men, women, and children in factories and poorhouses would have their voices heard.
My prose would have to be so graceful that the words melt into poetry. I would paint pictures in which the walls, the carpet, the tea kettle all play a part. They would be like blended colors. With my art, readers would drink in the paragraph without complaining about its length. I would immerse them so that they don’t remember how long the book is; they are part of the story.
I cannot criticize Charles Dickens. I can only hope that one day I will write something with such immortality. His works can be heavy because of their length. These novels have many chapters because they were first published as serials. Oh, to go back in time! What a delightful thought: a world in which people all went to the news stand, looking for the next chapter of their favorite story.
Maybe one day, that trend will return to life. For now, I will read these stories and bask in their light.
I’ve found time to read historical fiction this year, modern works I haven’t included in my reading list because they’re not classics. I’m doing this for research: the novel I’m working on is historical fiction. There is no better way to know the time period than reading stories about it. However, the titles on the 2019 Classic Novel Challenge are priorities.
My next classic read will be My Antonia by Willa Cather.
I hope your springtime has been pleasant; what are you reading now?
Netherwood was a side read to space out my 2019 Classic Novel Challenge. Like The Lady and the Gent, it is historical fiction. Though they share a genre, these novels are delightful in their own ways.
Netherwood is more sober than The Lady and the Gent. It’s the story of a widow named Eve and her struggle to survive following the death of her husband at a coal mine. Urged to make a living doing what she’s good at, she starts baking and selling pies from her own home.
Eve’s business soon becomes so popular that there are too many customers for her to manage. Wanting to help this remarkable widow, the Earl of Netherwood gives her a building to transform into a bakery. Soon she is called to bake her pies for parties at aristocratic houses. Her work even delights the king.
The story is told from multiple points of view. We see Eve’s world through the eyes of love interests, enemies, friends and her children, giving the story layers. Each character is strong because they are flawed; each has a lesson to learn, and we feel sympathy for them.
In my opinion, Netherwood’s strength is that it’s a story about a woman surviving on her own. Unlike Margaret in The Lady and the Gent, Eve is not thinking about love. She is too busy keeping customers happy in order to feed her children. Though she does fall in love towards the end, it isn’t because she needs someone. It’s because she finally found a person who could made her smile.
Jane Sanderson’s writing style is a delight. She crafts whole characters, dialect and all, and knows how to describe emotion in a way that tugs at my heart. Setting, dialogue, character—these things are what win me over, and Netherwood excelled in them. I hope one day I can spin a story with that much skill!
What have you been reading?
Last week, I took a break from my strict 2019 Reading Challenge and searched for some historical fiction to provide a quick, happy read. Three books by Rebecca Connolly caught my eye, and in two days I had finished the first, The Lady and the Gent. The book did not disappoint; I was smiling by the time I reached the epilogue.
Wealthy and lively Lady Margaret has had three London seasons to no avail; for some reason, she fails to catch any man’s eye. At twenty-two, she is now considered old. Facing the possibility of their daughter becoming a spinster, her parents take matters into their own hands. They suggest finding her a husband in the continent.
However, Lady Margaret loves England and wants to stay. She convinces them to let her try for one more season; meanwhile, they return to the continent, scouting out potential suitors. None of them will do for her, though; she has already given her heart to a man she has never spoken to. She only sees him for ten seconds a day while on the streets.
It is perhaps not a new plot, but something about Margaret’s questionable taste struck a chord in me. I am a daydreamer; I would do the same thing. Margaret knows nothing about this man, but he is so mysterious that she cannot forget him. He is everywhere and nowhere; though he always finds her, she cannot find him.
He is a spy called The Gent by those who know him, and he is London’s best and worst kept secret. He is friends with gypsies and orphan children and all sorts of undesirables. He seems too perfect to be real, but I believe that’s why I enjoyed this story. We see his darker side when he is forced to choose between love and work, leading to disaster. When I reached the point where I wondered if even The Gent could fix it, I knew the book had hooked me.
The Lady and the Gent is a love story with a happy ending. I think we all need those every now and then. Whether or not the plot is realistic, our hearts want to believe that there is the chance of love prevailing. We want to believe two people can fight for it against all odds, risking work and reputation, always choosing each other.
This book was the highlight of my week, and I recommend it to fans of romance and historical fiction. I have Connolly’s other two books and will be reading them soon. These days I can’t help but long for stories that take me back in time.
I am also reading The Pickwick Papers, and predict at least two blog posts about it. The first will come in the next week or so. I always have a lot to say about work by Charles Dickens, and Mr. Pickwick’s crowd have given me much laughter.
