The perils of being pedantic

I have always held that writing historical fiction suits me for three reasons:

• I’m a bit old-fashioned and rather like living in the past
• I don’t have a terrific imagination and am happier with a skeleton of known history on which I can hang my story, and
• I am addicted to research.

However, I do have one character trait which is both a blessing and a curse for the historical novelist: I am a paid-up, card-carrying pedant.  I can usually control my instinct to correct other people, but inside my own head, it’s picky central.  And pedantry is an extremely time-consuming activity.  Here’s today’s example.

I am trying to write a scene where Constable Sam Plank is inspecting a notebook written by a suspected criminal, in which the man uses annotations – an X, a question mark and an exclamation mark.  Just as I am writing this sentence, I hear my inner Queen of Picky: ah yes, but is that what they called those punctuation marks in the 1820s?  And it is remarkably difficult to find out.  And remarkably fascinating to try.  Two hours later I’m no further on with the scene, but I do know that:

• “question mark” is a modern name – Sam would have known it as a “mark/point of interrogation”
• “exclamation mark” is probably OK (although back in the 17th century it was a “note of admiration”)
• F Scott Fitzgerald loathed exclamation marks; Emily Dickinson loved them
• there is a small town in Canada called Saint-Louis-du-Ha! Ha!
• printers call the exclamation mark a screamer, a gasper, a slammer or a startler.

All fascinating – but that’s two hours gone and I’ve written two sentences.

In a related story, I listened recently to an interview with Antonia Fraser, the hugely respected historian.  She quite forcefully made the declaration that she is not an historical novelist, because her books contain no fiction.  She does not say that someone walked determinedly into a room, for instance, unless the historical record shows determined walking.  Perhaps I’m not being picky enough…

Sign up, sign up!

I know, I know – I’ve been distracted again!  But this time – rare for me – this post is actually topical.  I was reading about the history of Cambridge and I came across several stories about when the bubonic plague hit town in the seventeenth century.  Well, it had been there before, but the seventeenth century was bad, with dangerous outbreaks in 1610, the 1620s, 1630 and then the big one (the Great Plague, as we all learned in primary school) in the 1660s.

Now I’m baffled as to why more of you don’t sign up for my monthly updates – which elaborate on the historical details behind the books – so this is a bit of a teaser.  The update that is scheduled to go out on 1 May is all about plague and pestilence in historical Cambridge, but I won’t tell you much here, apart from a couple of taster highlights:

• The expert at the time was a German “plague doctor” called Dr Milne
• Windows were removed from churches to allow fresh air to blow through
• Forty pest-houses were built on Coldham’s Common, which is still a green area and presumably home to lots of skeletons.

If you’re keen to know more, sign up for the monthly updates!  (And if plague is not your bag, the June update features a hot air balloon and a water velocipede – my research is nothing if not wide-ranging.)

Double delight

I know I’m meant to do it for the love of it, and honestly, most of the time I do: Sam, Martha, Wilson and I sit in my back bedroom (grandly called “the study”) and between us we put enough words on the page to release a new adventure every eighteen months or so.  And it is a pleasure and a privilege to be able to spend all those hours on something so self-indulgent and enjoyable.  But I cannot deny that it is thrilling to get recognition for the effort and the hours and the words.  And in the past couple of days, I have had double recognition!

The marvellous Jo writes a book review blog called JaffaReadsToo (Jaffa being her feline office manager) and on her regular feature Hist Fic Saturday she graciously published a blushingly lovely review of “Heir Apparent”.  Jo has been a supporter of the series since “Fatal Forgery”, when I was casting around for reviewers of historical fiction and she kindly agreed to take a punt on a complete unknown (whereas now I have reached the dizzy heights of “not quite unknown”).  I was particularly nervous about sending her “Heir Apparent”, as it has the most complicated plot so far and – with Jo’s sharp eye – I knew that any inconsistencies would be laid bare…  Thankfully she and Jaffa have given it their paw-print of approval – calling the Sam books “perhaps one of the best historical crime series I have read” – and I can breathe once more.

And then yesterday I was travelling home on a crowded train, having been separated from my phone all day by the welcome distraction of a family gathering, when I spotted that the wonderful Helen Hollick of the Discovering Diamonds book review website has named “Heir Apparent” her Book of the Month for November 2019!  She had already published a lovely review, so this is an unexpected extra plaudit – and comes with the spiffy badge that you can see on the left of the page.  Helen, it goes without saying, is a doyenne of historical fiction – as both a writer and a reader – and her opinion is one of the most valued around.  I did a mini dance of delight on the train (95% internal, so as not to alarm other passengers) and then had celebratory fish and chips for supper.  What a week!

Sam’s on the shortlist!

What a day!  I have received notification that “Faith, Hope and Trickery” has been shortlisted for the inaugural Selfies Award, which I entered back in December.  It’s one of eight books in the running and the winner will be announced at the London Book Fair on 12 March 2019.  I had already booked my ticket for that day, as I’ve never been to the LBF before (I want to walk around with “Author” on my ID badge), and I wanted to support the Selfies even if I was not personally involved.  But now I will be – great excitement!

Today’s press release  from the awards organiser – BookBrunch – is most flattering.  It says that we shortlist nominees were selected from “exceptional works of self-published fiction” and “can confidently stand against the very best fiction being published in the UK today”.

Looking at the shortlist, we’re all women.  Two books are pure crime and two are historical (mine included).  Bizarrely, one is about money laundering and one is about cycling (written by a woman who lives in Cambridge) – and neither of those is mine!  That prize ceremony is going to be an interesting gathering…

Surveying the reader-scape

One of the great pleasures of being an indie author (indie being independent – so self-published, published through a small publishing house, etc.) is the community you join of other indie authors.  I have recently signed up with ALLi – the Alliance of Independent Authors – and am very much enjoying reading their guidance, advice, discussions and debates.  I am also hoping that my own profile will appear on their website one day, so I will keep you posted.

One very well-respected indie author whose work I follow closely is MK Tod.  Her introduction to historical fiction – like mine – was a teenage obsession with Jean Plaidy and Georgette Heyer, and she now writes books with a WWI setting.  However, she has also made a study of people’s reading habits – albeit mainly people with a love of historical fiction, as they are the ones who find her blog and therefore her “reader surveys”.  She has just published the results of her fourth such survey, containing the thoughts of 2,418 respondents from around the world, and it is well worth reading.

From my perspective – as a keen writer and rather unsuccessful seller of historical fiction – there were a couple of questions whose responses I was most eagerly awaiting.  The first was “In historical fiction, which time periods do you enjoy?”.  And I am relieved to see that mine (nineteenth century) is the second most popular (after twentieth century).  Nineteenth century settings are particularly popular with women, and with those aged over thirty – which perhaps explains the requests I have received for “more Martha” in the Sam books!  And the second was “Reflecting on your fiction reading, how relatively important are the following factors?” – including plot, characters, authenticity and so on.  As Ms Tod herself deduces from the responses, “feeling immersed in the novel’s world” is the most critical factor for readers, followed by “authenticity” and “superb writing” – and as readers age, “superb writing” becomes increasingly important.  This is a great relief to me, as I spend so much time – granted, I love doing it, but still, it takes effort – on making my setting, language and characters as authentic as possible, and encouraging readers to follow Sam into the heart of London in the 1820s.

As someone hoping one day to make a living from writing, I was also interested to read about people’s book-buying habits and preferences.  And this survey – which, again, has an historical fiction bent – tells me this about my target audience:

• They get their books mainly through Internet purchase or borrowed from a library
• 75% of them “frequently or exclusively” use print books
• Their most trusted source of recommendations is friends, followed by well-known book review sites or blogs
• They enjoy reading articles about an author’s work, and following authors on Facebook and Twitter
• They don’t use social media as much as I had thought, and the feature they most value on social media (when they do engage) is book reviews.

Traditionally published authors have entire marketing departments at their disposal, to track and react to this sort of information.  For those of us working alone – the indies – MK Tod has provided an invaluable service, and my own thanks go out to her.  This will certainly inform my future marketing plans.

Good with words, hopeless with numbers

I am a very organised person.  I have the equivalent of a B at maths “A” level (I did the International Baccalaureate instead, albeit in the pre-computer dark ages).  These two parts of my character have united in the Sam Plank series, in that I (a) plotted all remaining six books in the series as soon as I had finished the first one and realised I couldn’t live without Sam, and (b) decided that the books would be set in consecutive years (“Fatal Forgery” in 1824, “The Man in the Canary Waistcoat” in 1825 and so on).  Simples, as they used to say.

And so I find myself beavering away on “Plank 6”.  I’ve been researching inheritance law and body-snatching (the former more confusing, the latter more gruesome).  And I’ve been setting it all against the background of events in 1828.  Yesterday I was putting together my supplies for the Shelford Feast (I’m speaking at their Literary Evening tomorrow – we’re up against England in the semi-final…) and printing little price-lists for the books.  Against each book price I wrote a little description of the book – and realised that “Faith, Hope and Trickery” (book five, and published in March 2018) took place in 1828.  You see my error.

It’s not hard, is it?  I have ten fingers for the complex calculations.  If book one is set in 1824, of course book six will be set in 1829.  Back to the drawing board.

Born to look backwards

My husband is away for the weekend (doing a long bicycle ride somewhere up north – I really should listen more carefully…) and so I have awarded myself a mini-retreat for writing.  I have turned the dining table into my desk, and am spending two days – one and off – gazing out into the garden while enjoying the company of Sam and Martha.  And it strikes me that I am rarely happier than when retreating into the past.

The signs were always there.  As a little girl, my favourite book was “The Little White Horse” by Elizabeth Goudge – I still re-read it once a year.  The religious symbolism of the story quite escaped me (indeed, I saw it only when I shared it with my book club and they hated it for its religious overtones – the lesson is never to submit a beloved book to this sort of scrutiny!) but I was enchanted and captured by its setting: the west of England in 1842.  When my mother allowed me to stay up and watch evening television dramas with her, my very favourites were “Upstairs, Downstairs” (London, 1903 to 1930), “The Onedin Line” (Liverpool, 1860 to 1886) and – of course – “Poldark” (Cornwall, 1783 to [eventually] 1830).  When I went through the inevitable teenage girl phase of reading overblown family sagas with occasional scenes of torrid sex, I eschewed the modern Jilly Cooper and Judith Krantz in favour of anything by Susan Howatch – particular favourites being “Cashelmara” (Ireland in the late nineteenth century) and “The Rich are Different” (London and America in the interwar years).  As an adult with my own money for television boxed sets, I wallow regularly in “Cranford” (Cheshire in the 1840s) and “North & South” (Manchester in about the same period).  In my everyday life I favour dresses with a 1950s cut, and drive a car from the 1980s.  And I must say that in today’s current political climate, the past seems much safer place to be.  Now, I must head back to 1828 – Sam is attending a religious meeting on the City Road and cannot believe his ears.

What do historical fiction readers want?

Do you ever feel that you’ve overstretched yourself?  I have two websites, two blogs, several Facebook pages and two Twitter feeds, and it’s still a mystery to me how, when and why they all link together.  So I apologise for doing this the wrong way.  But one of the blogs I follow avidly is written by fellow historical fiction writer Helen Hollick, and recently she posted an excellent interview with another author, MK Tod, on what it is that readers want from historical fiction.

Now I know that I should be able to link cleverly to this post, so that it shows here, but it’s all too much for me – I’m having to lie down in a darkened room with a plate of Jaffa Cakes to hand, and simply give you the link instead:  https://ofhistoryandkings.blogspot.co.uk/2016/08/historical-fiction-what-do-readers-want.html

So big apologies to both Helen and MK for my technical duncery, but I do recommend it as an excellent read – I agree with every word.

Back in gear

Well, it just goes to show what a day of rest, recuperation, retail therapy (OK, so it was bin liners and orange juice, but it’s still retail) and – let’s be honest – whinging can do.  After that low point, yesterday my keyboard was on fire – just shy of 4,000 words and a real push towards the end of the first draft.  (Roy, I trust you’re on standby: I’m hoping to get that draft to you by 19 August.  Roy is my amazing beta reader, everyone – there’s not a plot inconsistency or a character contradiction he can’t spot, and he has an elephantine memory for what Sam did and said in earlier novels.)

Talking of which, as readers of earlier Sam Plank novels will know, I do like to include a little twist towards the end – not a twist in the tail/tale exactly, but just something unexpected.  And I did have one in mind for “Plank 4”, but on my regular post-lunch constitutional yesterday, sitting on a bench with this amazing view, I thought of a new one:

Would it work, I wondered – would that fit with my characters, and with the subject I now wished to introduce?  So I stopped off at the wifi point and did a little research, and, do you know, it fitted perfectly – it couldn’t have worked more neatly with what I have already written and how my characters have developed if I had plotted it from the very beginning.  This feeling will be best recognised by other writers of historical fiction: you modern types can write what you want, you lucky things, but those of us with historical settings have to be true to what actually happened.  It’s a question that is often put to writers in historical genres: how closely do you observe historical truth, and when can you depart from it?  I can’t speak for anyone else, but my rule of thumb is this: if it is known, then I must observe it, but if it is not known, then I can interpolate with what seems to fit.  While writing “Fatal Forgery”, for instance, I found out that Henry Fauntleroy had a son.  This was very annoying, as I didn’t really want him to have a family life interfering with my plot, but the son was real and had to be accommodated – I couldn’t ignore something so central.

Anyway, most fortuitously, this new plot angle I have conceived does fit with both historical fact and my characters, so I am feeling particularly splendid as I ready myself for work today.