Last fall, when I
found out Learning to Waltz had been
chosen best Regency romance for 2014 by Chanticleer Book Reviews, Victoria and
Kristine invited me to Number One London to share my excitement. (See that post here.)
I’m back again,
because at long last I have received my prize: A free Chanticleer review. Five
stars! I’d say it was worth the wait. (Read the review
here.)
“Reid's focus,” says
the reviewer, “is on her richly developed characters, not just costumes and
carriages.” She is right that character comes first. A novel without memorable
characters isn’t worth reading. And beyond memorable, there has to be at least
one I really like and can root for, however flawed he or she might be. (In Learning to Waltz, of course, there is
more than one. In fact, I have a soft spot for each and every one of them. Yes,
even Doctor Overley and Deborah’s feckless brother!)
But setting runs a
pretty close second, and that makes “costumes and carriages” important too.
Setting encompasses a lot of different elements, from geography and climate to
the scene outside – and inside – the window. But in historical fiction, so much
of setting is wrapped up in when the
story takes place. Costumes and carriages, of course, but also language, food,
holidays, religion, political events… aargh, the list goes on forever. Yet
these details of daily life add so much! They make it feel authentic, realistic.
They help draw a reader into the story and persuade her it really could have
happened.
Which brings me
(finally!) to today’s topic: research. Most of the historical writers I know
love research as much as they love writing. Many of us could get lost in it and
never come out again. After all, if we didn’t like history, we would probably
choose a different genre.
Research is critical
to a good historical novel – thankfully there’s a lot of information out there!
Too much, I sometimes think. Books from the period ran the gamut from Gothic
novels to sermons, travelogues to gardening. Newspapers covered politics,
entertainment and more. (Even the ads are fascinating.) A wide variety of
periodicals provide abundant information
about literature, science, fashion. And there are the personal
documents: letters, ledgers, household lists and “receipts” (recipes), and so
much more.
Plenty of important
history took place during the Regency, from the Napoleonic wars on down; there
were bound to be historical researchers digging in and writing about their
findings. But it makes a difference, I think, that Regency Romance has been
popular for so long. Since Georgette Heyer published Regency Buck in 1935, this brief ten-year span (1811-1820) has
received more than its share of attention from novelists. While the historians pry
out political secrets, others delight in discovering the daily facts of life and
write their own books, not only novels but also non-fiction to help other
writers and enthusiasts.
My humble Regency research
library consists of some 70 volumes. Sounds like a lot, yet there are probably
thousands more. Unfortunately I don’t have the money to buy them, the space to
keep them, or the time to read them. In fact, I don’t often sit down and read
the books I have; when I have a question I need answered, I pull out the most
likely ones and utter some swear words about inadequate indexing. Then I go to
the internet, where there are hundreds of blogs and newsletters on the subject,
most of them easy to navigate. Maybe that’s because they’re mostly published by
my fellow Regency writers, who know how important it is to be able to find what
you’re looking for!
My second book will
have the benefit of another type of research! I expect to have a complete first
draft by the time I visit Yorkshire in October, but there will still be time
for changes. I want to see those northern moors in person, and the 1808 library
in Leeds where I’ve set a crucial scene. I want to see historical buildings
large and small, rich and poor, and find out what they’re made of. Leeds has
some fantastic online resources, but I want more! I only wish I could see it as it was in 1822! A couple of hours
would do, just until I needed a proper toilet.
I’m sorry I couldn’t
give
Learning to Waltz that kind of
attention. Measham, where most of the action takes place, is fictional, but Lydford,
where Deborah grew up, is very real. Dawlish too, where Evan explores the
natural arch in what was then Langstone Headland and rides breakneck down the
beach in a storm. Finding that arch online inspired the scene, which is a
turning point in the story. I’m sure the local residents in both places –
particularly the town historians – would have no trouble finding inaccuracies.
Dawlish Beach, 1881
(You can see the
arch at the far left in this 1881 photo. At low tide it was, and still is,
approachable on foot – or horseback. What you can’t see is the railroad, built
directly along the beachfront in the 1840s. In laying the railbed, they also
cut through the headland. The arch, and the rock that contains it, still exist,
however. And I sure would have liked to see them before I wrote about them!)
I could, and
probably should, have spent ten years doing research before ever setting pen to
paper. And traveling all around the British Isles taking notes on absolutely
everything! But I’m betting there would still be questions. I would still be
searching books and the internet to find the answers. And alas, I would still
be making mistakes. I just have to hope the reviewers don’t catch them!
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