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My Writer's Journal

A Shoutout to Cleopatra, Mary Queen of Scots, Victoria

September 14, 2010
OK, I'm too busy. Here it is, September, the most beautiful month of the year in Albuquerque, and I hardly go outside the house except for my morning walk at sunrise. But so much is happening!

CLEOPATRA CONFESSES: Jacket design arrived, and it's gorgeous! I love it! A couple of weeks ago the copyedited manuscript arrived--not so gorgeous, just a lot of fact-checking. But it's done.

THE WILD QUEEN, MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS: First draft back from the editor. Needs work. LOTS of work. New beginning, new ending, and everything in between seems to drag. More action! More feeling! Tighten the prose! I keep my head down and go at it, hard.

VICTORIA RULES: To the university library to borrow a pile of books. Order a batch of obscure books out of print. They've started arriving, and I can't resist diving in.

THE BAD QUEEN: How's she doing? Anybody buying these books?

E-mails. I love them, and I always answer. But I forgot to update my blog until just now, and I swore I'd do it once a week.

The house is a mess. We're getting ready to move. Sometimes I can't sleep, wondering how I'll get it all done. Dearly Beloved says I'm grouchy! MOI??? Read More 
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Victoria Rules!

August 31, 2010
Queen Victoria, that is. She was the clear favorite among the dozens of you who responded to my request for suggestions for my next subject. I've already started my research.

This has been an amazing experience. On August 9th, on my regular morning walk, I got the idea of contacting some of the readers who've contacted me and asking for suggestions. After breakfast, I sent out about 100 e-mails, promising to dedicate the book to the first three people to nominate the subject I'd eventually choose. I had scarcely hit the SEND button until the responses started to come in.

Some of you had a clear favorite, but some of you had lots of ideas, and those ideas were fascinating! There was a great deal of interest in English royalty (Lady Jane Grey; Anne of Cleves), but there were also nominations of queens from China and India; mentions of some non-royal Americans (Thomas Edison; Pocahontas; Amelia Earhart); ancient history (Boudica); Joan of Arc got a number of votes; and the one that made me laugh (Queen Latifah).

In the end, though, Queen Victoria carried the day. Leah N., Vankelia T., and Sidney V. were the first to suggest it, and so their names will be on the dedication page when the book is published, probably in 2012.

And to the rest of you who were so generous with your ideas and suggestions: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! Read More 
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Gliding through Summer

August 24, 2010
The Versailles Glide: I've been promising for weeks that I'd write about the way ladies of the French court were talk to walk. This is how Marie-Antoinette was instructed by her dancing teacher:

It is necessary to walk gracefully in high-heeled slippers and the heavy robe à la française, with its wide skirts and long train. You must not walk heel to toe, as one does normally, but with many tiny steps made quickly while balancing forward on one's toes, so that one gives the impression of skimming just above the surface of the ground without touching it, as though one weighs no more than a cloud.

Got that?

This has not been a summer of skimming above the surface of the ground. More like crawling through mud. I had no sooner finished a first draft of THE WILD QUEEN and sent it off than the copyedited manuscript of CLEOPATRA CONFESSES arrived by UPS with about a million little changes and corrections. Most of them I approved, but on a few I just had to stand and FIGHT! We'll see what happens now.

For those of you who asked, CLEOPATRA CONFESSES will be published next summer, 2011. THE WILD QUEEN: MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS will come out a few months later, fall 2011.

Now I'm going to sit and think about what comes next. Read More 
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Out of Touch

August 8, 2010
I know, I know - I said I'd post a blog once a week, no matter what. And I've failed. I've been blogging about THE BAD QUEEN, because that's the book that's out there, but I've been working on CLEOPATRA CONFESSES and then fell behind on THE WILD QUEEN, about Mary Queen of Scots, which was due June 1st. When I realized I couldn't make that and finish up a rewrite of CLEOPATRA, I asked for an extension to July 1st. then it became obvious that I couldn't make that one either and begged for another month.

Something had to give. I started getting up at 5 am. I worked in the evenings after dinner. I cut my M-W-F hour at the gym to just twice a week. No lunches with friends. I made my husband miserable.

But having to work that steadily does help to focus the mind. The manuscript was on Editor Julie's computer by Thursday morning, August 5th. The house, I realized, was a mess. The backyard, always my pride and joy, was a disaster. But the first draft was finished!

Is it any good? I don't know. We'll see. Editor Julie will get back to me. Meanwhile, I can pull some weeds. Maybe even see a movie. And next week I'll write about The Versailles Glide. For sure. Read More 
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Queenly Make-Up

July 21, 2010
The hair styles in the time of Marie-Antoinette were only the beginning of the beauty routine. The make-up sounds really grotesque. Here she is, being prepared for her first entrance into France: The ladies coated my face with a white paste and painted my cheeks with large circles of red rouge. Her mother would never have approved. My mother certainly would not have!

I remember my own battles with my mother over the use of lipstick. The brand of choice when I was in my early teens was something called Tangee. I just Googled it and discovered it can still be found; "goes on orange and then changes to suit your natural lip color." Even so, my mother didn't approve. Probably still wouldn't. Eye-liner nearly sent her into cardiac arrest.

Next week: The Versailles Glide  Read More 
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Bastille Day, Paris, 1789

July 14, 2010
From THE BAD QUEEN:
A mob had stormed the Bastille, and the ancient prison fortress had fallen. They came by the thousands, armed with anything they could find. Many of them were women, some even bringing their children. The fools thought they’d find guns and powder, and secret caches of grain. They believed the cells were filled with enemies of the king, and they were bent on freeing them. The governor of the Bastille hung out a white flag of peace, but the mob ignored it and commenced attacking from all sides. It was a horrendous scene. The fighting grew more intense—the mob didn’t seem to care how many of their number were killed or wounded by the defending soldiers. They climbed onto the roofs and broke into the dungeons and released the prisoners, though they found only seven, madmen and forgers, not the hundreds of the victims of injustice they’d expected. Read More 
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Tight Corsets and Other Miseries

July 11, 2010
Beginning when Marie-Antoinette was a little girl, just old enough to walk, she had to wear stays, a sort of corset made of cloth stiffened with strips of wood, later with wire or bone. This was to assure that her skeleton was properly aligned, but mostly to make sure she had a tiny waist. By the time she married at 14, the grand corps was drawn so tight she could hardly breathe and barely eat more than a mouthful. And she was required to wear it all the time, except when she slept. When she rebelled, it caused a scandal in the French court.

My mother didn't wear a corset, but she did wear a girdle, a rubber garment with plastic stays. The idea was to hold your stomach in and your stockings up, but also to disguise the fact that you had rear cleavage. A proper girl had a smooth butt. The happiest moment of my mother's day was when she could take the thing off. I dreaded the time when I'd have to wear one. Somehow I never did.

Next week: Queenly Make-Up Read More 
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What About That Hair?

July 5, 2010
The jacket of THE BAD QUEEN makes a point: Marie-Antoinette's hair was a BIG THING. Before she could marry the dauphin--the French prince--she had to have her unruly curls fixed. But the nice little 'do the hairdresser gave her was nothing compared to the extravagant style she adopted after she moved to France. Here's how it was done:

"The friseur erected a large structure on my head beginning with a foundation of wire and gauze and horsehair, and then arranged my own hair to cover this edifice." Then he powdered her curls with white flour and arranged some sort of decoration on top. The "pouf" became all the rage among the ladies of the French court, who had to kneel on the floor of their carriage to make room for it. And everyone carried an ivory-tipped head-scratcher.

When I was Marie-Antoinette's age, I worried about my hair. My mother had beautiful wavy hair. I did not. Mine was ordinary brown and perfectly straight. I permed it, dyed it once, and didn't stop worrying about it until it turned completely white and I had it cut short.

Next week: Tight Corsets and Other Miseries Read More 
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Smile! You're Going to Marry A Prince!

June 27, 2010
When Marie-Antoinette was 12, her mother decided that she was to marry the son of the King of France, who insisted that everything about the girl who married the dauphin must be perfect and sent a dentiste to straighten her crooked teeth. This is how orthodontia was practiced in the 18th century, as described in THE BAD QUEEN--and I'm not making this up:

"He placed a block of wood in my mouth to hold it open, gripped one of my upper teeth in the jaws of a dreadful instrument...and forced the tooth into a new position....Several footmen rushed to pin me down and hold my head in place while I howled...."

Later when he has finished, he hands her a mirror. "The gold wires, fastened to each tooth with a silk thread, gleamed back at me. I thought I looked ridiculous."

Anyone who has worn braces, as I did, and as my granddaughter, Sophie, does now, can certainly sympathize. (See my picture on the MY LIFE page, Before Braces.)

Next week: What About That Hair? Read More 
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Where Ideas Grow

June 21, 2010
I'm often asked where I get my ideas, and I always say, "Ideas are all around." Just consider my morning walk.

There's a homeless man sleeping in the park that I walk through every day. I wonder what his story is. And where on earth is that chicken I hear clucking, here in the middle of the city? A hot air balloon is flying overhead; who's in it? Workmen are gathering around the old tuberculosis hospital that is being remade into a fancy hotel; I pass the old nurses' dorm and wonder about the young women who worked there decades ago. A film crew is setting up for a morning shoot; a girl with a clipboard tells me the movie is "Warrior Woman." They're near the house I once wrote a short story about, called "The Crayon House" because of its wild colors--who painted it like that? Penny, the sweet greyhound, wants to be petted when I pass her yard, but Trixie, across the street, snarls at me as she always does. I missed the guy who goes to work on a skateboard every morning at exactly 6:20, but the guy on the motor scooter honks, as usual.

And this is just an ordinary morning, 7 am in Albuquerque. Plenty of stories here, like tomatoes on a vine, and mine for the picking! Read More 
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