PUT OUT THE DAMN LIGHT

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Byron, corsets, England, etiquette, genre, history, manners, mystery, pet peeves, regency, Victorian, writing

Judi Lynn/Judith Post recently wrote a blog about ten steps to make your mystery better and started off with “kill somebody.” I can’t think of any opener to top that, so will just start off with the things I look for and try to incorporate in historical fiction to make it believable and immediate. Because that’s the point, isn’t it? To immerse the reader in a world that has been before.

Character/s

How often do we see the same man or woman over and over in a story and nothing changes but their eye and hair color? In reality, people don’t look the same, even when they look sort of the same. People are unique. So should characters be. It’s best if they possess the kind of personality you’re drawn to, but perhaps you prefer the challenge of finding a way to make a somewhat off-putting man or woman sympathetic to the reader. But an initial connection must be made from the get-go and that’s kind of difficult if they have the charisma of yesterday’s pancake.

The Four Es of Character Building

Entice, entrigue, engage, and excite. This doesn’t mean making them attractive. It means making them accessible. They should have traits and personalities similar to the human conditions that haven’t changed over the ages. We all have baggage. Give them reasons for reacting the way they do when “showing” their responses, instead of just “telling” or explaining them on the page. Lets’ just get over it. We’re products of our environments until we do something about it. Give your protags some emotional warts so you can show how they’ve grown (removed) them by the end of the book.

Mary Balogh’s more recent regency works are peopled by the challenged. Her characters have been blind, lame, deaf, suffering from disabling war wounds, including PTSD. The ubiquitous fiesty heroines and sardonic men have become tedious, which is why Balogh is considered the comemporary queen of historical regency. Her people have the problems, joys, and triumphs we understand and seek, or find lacking in our own lives. They have some amazing emotional warts to overcome.

The Three Cs

Complication, conflict, conclusion. You better have all of these nailed. Throw in some juicy subplots while you’re at it to pick up the pacing and tension. If dried up of ideas on how to inflict misery on your beloved protags, there’s always a nasty or annoying family member. We’ve all got one.

Situations

An opening incident that involves one or both of your main characters must suck us into the storyline, establish the time period, or atmosphere, and most importantly, get the reader invested in the primary charatcers.

More and more we’re seeing historical stories striving to tweak genre themes to fit into a niche market or category. In doing so, the story can become secondary to the magic of creating a period piece or just a dang good story. The deliciousness of sinking into the past can get lost from its primary goal by forcing conformity to a parameter. It’s vitally important to keep the time period immediate, to bring the reader into that world, become saturated by the surroundings. In other words, don’t lose sight of the magic of the site, the joy of being there.

Know your history

 OK, so I have a pet peeve about blatant incongruity, like women in corsets doing impossbile physical feats while wearing what should be more accurately called a torso vice made of whalebone or metal slats. It’s impossible to lounge, leap over small buildings, or mount a horse via stirrup without creating a puncture wound. Regency versions (stays) were not quite as viscious as the later, Victorian versions.

Incorporating the etiquette of the time period makes it real, the necessary realities. Calling cards were vital social accourtrement and came with a precise set of rules. A card corner turned down meant the card was delivered personally. It was the most convenient way for both parties to find out whether or not your company was welcomed, or more kindly told to get lost, when there is no reply to the card.

Men went up stairs before women for many reasons but most often to spare them the display of their ankles. Then there’s my always favorite, wait for it…clear vision in rooms where no candle or lamp is ever lit or extinguished.

Even though strict rules were ingrained, behaviors/actions considered not done often were during the regency where gossip had lethal results. A great deal was written about people like Lady Caroline Lamb (flagrant adultery), Brummell (viciously insulted his prince), Lord Byron (too raunchy to list), and Jane Austen (dared to write and evetually use her real name) to list a few. When the Victorian Age descended, the not done stuff still happened, it just got shoved underground.

So many rules, so little time.

If you would like to read Judi Lynn’s excellent advice, here is the link to her blog:

https://writingmusings.com/2018/05/22/10-steps-for-writing-a-mystery/

M.L Rigdon (aka Julia Donner)

Follow on Twitter @RigdonML

Website http://www.MLRigdon.com

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/julia-donner

https://www.facebook.com/Julia-Donner-697165363688218/timeline

 

 

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ANOTHER 3 MOVIES IN 5 DAYS

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#BlackPanther, Bolshoi, films, movie review, pet peeves

Up first is Red Sparrow.

The draw for me was Jennifer Lawrence. Her dancing performance went on too long, an error in direction, not Ms. Lawrence. She is not convincing as a Bolshoi prima ballerina. Not saying that she did a bad job, but that it takes many years to become a prima ballerina of the Bolshoi caliber. This flaw bothered me more than the graphic sex, purposely grim and shocking, which was more acceptable than expecting anyone interested in ballet to believe that a mediocre dancer, who wouldn’t get an audition for the Bolshoi corps de ballet, could be viewed as a national treasure. Why am I harping on this? The wasted time could/should have been used to advance/enrich the story, to illustrate how the loss of career and years of study devastated Dominika. All we got was her anger. Not enough to draw us to empathize. The script is so-so. Figured out the end early on, which means it was a bit of a letdown. (A blatant spoiler was slapped right at the beginning of the movie like a big red arrow flashing “this is a clue” when she got revenge on the pair who ruined her career.) It wasn’t a waste of money because Lawrence is always interesting.

The only interest I had in seeing A Wrinkle in Time was because of Chris Pine. The trailers didn’t spark a need to see this film and that’s not a good sign. The art design was merely OK. The make-up and hair, a disaster. I liked the kids a lot, especially Levi Miller and Deric McCabe. And the pacing was so slow I caught myself falling asleep. A lot.

Saved the best for last, Black Panther. Originally, I wasn’t hot to see this film because it was hyped and I avoid films with rap. But…it’s a remarkable movie and a refreshing change from the usual grim, superhero violence that screams “see how fabulous I am with the CGI stuff.”

Wow factor is off the chart for some of the characters. Andy Serkis is deliciously nuts as Klaue.  Danai Gurira as Okoye, the General, is commanding, gorgeous and just plain-ole breathtaking. Chadwick Boseman made excellent use of his expressive eyes. I’ve always liked Martin Freeman and he didn’t fail my admiration with a well done American accent. Not easy for Brits and he did it while carrying off the token white guy role with subtle authority.

Script always gets my attention and this one had plenty of twists that wove nicely into the story arc and were skillfully placed. The graceful celebration of African cultures and a score inspired by haunting African Folk music enhanced what was happening on the screen and never detracted.

As I said earlier, I didn’t plan to go to see this film when it opened because I can’t tolerate rap in any form of the genre. I usually wait until it’s available to rent and mute the sound. As it was, I hustled out of the theater when the credits started to roll, overlaid with rap. I will confess that it sounded a higher quality than the usual hostile and monotonous monotone. Rap is essentially a form of poetry, and I ‘ve always wished the writers of this stuff would frame it without the childish backbeat. Even though simplistic and often vulgar, what they are expressing is important.

But what I loved most about this film was its groundbreaking adherence to the themes of ethics, honor, and duty. Movies of this type, superheroes saving the world, are crammed with and rely on loud, meaningless, glorified violence (with the exception of Ragnarok, which supplied some much-needed humor). The digital work in Black Panther was never glaringly obvious and gracefully enhanced the fantasy rather than slamming it in the viewer’s face. Granted, many film-goers like this sort of action, and that’s their proverbial bag. I reveled in this film’s elegance and celebration of African cultures. It may have been meant to be making a statement, but as I watched, I could only view it as splendid and exactly what a superhero movie should be.

P.S. Doing a blog tour this month. If interested, info is on the Julia Donner Facebook (see below) for a chance to win an Amazon GC.

M.L Rigdon (aka Julia Donner)

Follow on Twitter @RigdonML

Blog: https://historyfanforever.wordpress.com/

Website http://www.MLRigdon.com

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/julia-donner

https://www.facebook.com/Julia-Donner-697165363688218/timeline

 

3 Films in 3 Days

Tags

acting, Blade Runner, Brit, film, inspiration, movie review, new releases, pet peeves, spirituality, survival, The Mountain Between Us, Victoria & Abdul

 

Ok, I admit it. I’m a movie junkie. There’s very little that I don’t like when it comes to films. I wish I could watch horror flicks, but the chicken-factor in me is off the chart in a darkened room. Out in the light or in real life, not so much. In real-time, it takes a lot to shake me up. This means I miss out on a lot of good stuff. Years after Jaws came out, I got up the courage to watch it and loved its humor. But I’ve strayed a bit. Back to the 3 day event.

Monday, The Mountain Between Us. Hadn’t planned to see this flick but went with a group of once-a-week movie buddies, and so glad I did. Some would say it was another bi-racial hook-up thing, but I didn’t get that anywhere in the story. Excellent script and screenplay. Superb and subtle acting. Magnificent scenic views of the remote majesty of winter-clad mountains in contrast to a profoundly intimate struggle for survival. This was a study in interior and exterior battles—two gifted people who are forced to change everything they thought they knew about themselves, to endure in the face of impossible odds. This film was so much more that I expected, and it has a wonderful dog!

Tuesday, Blade Runner 2049. Who hasn’t seen the original? Hold up your hands, I mean, hand. (I loved the book Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip Dick) There is no way to NOT contrast the former movie from this one. This version is more atmospheric, more artsy and stylish, but there is none of the personal investment in the story. I didn’t connect with anyone, nothing like the first one with its eerie tension and fear for the fate of the original Rachel. This second version has gorgeous art production and lighting but lacks  momentum. The slow pacing allows time to enjoy the brilliant artistry but gets a bit too slow in too many spots. The only character I could connect with was the police captain, Joshi, (Robin Wright), who balances her career, professional intentions, and an inappropriate attraction for her Blade Runner. Sykvia Hoeks “Luv” was scary but not as terrifying as Rutger Hauer’s relentless desperation to live. But in this one, the seasoned actor in Ford expressed volumes when he simply and brilliantly said, “Her eyes were green.” The unfortunate sountrack was repetitive, distracting and too loud in spots. Finally, certain aspects of the story were unnecessarily obscure and the ending unsatisfying.

Wednesday, Victoria & Abdul. We automatically expect fine acting in Brit films that are perfectly casted like this one is. No need to go there. Production-wise, the weird contrasts of the austerity and abundance of the Victorian/Edwardian eras are bluntly typified, especially the nasty racial-verses-aristocratic attitudes. Edward, eventual king, was accurately portrayed as the sleaze he was, absolutely no tribute to his amazing parents. Some have labeled this as another Mrs. Brown romance, but I didn’t see that. Victoria uses Abdul to uplift her loneliness, revive her flagging spirits, but she views him as a son. What mother wouldn’t with a schlub like Bertie for a first-born.

Ergo, my first pick would be The Mountain Between Us. Second comes Victoria & Abdul, and third, Blade Runner, which is really kind of sad since I’d had such hopes for it.

Feebies on Kindle:

Prophecy Denied (free 10-22 thru 10-24) Book One of the Seasons of Time fantasy:

https://www.amazon.com/PROPHECY-DENIED-Seasons-Time-Book-ebook/dp/B004S7EQ92/ref=sr_1_3_twi_kin_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1508707823&sr=1-3&keywords=m.l.rigdon

The Rake and the Bishop’s Daughter (free 10-24 thru 10-28) historical regency

https://www.amazon.com/RAKE-BISHOPS-DAUGHTER-Friendship-Book-ebook/dp/B00LWQAY8O/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1508707650&sr=1-4&keywords=julia+donner

Newest Julia Donner release on November 1st, Avenue to Heaven, first book in the Westward Bound series about adventurous women heading west to realize their dreams. On pre-sale now:

https://www.amazon.com/Avenue-Heaven-Westward-Bound-Book-ebook/dp/B076HVGS98/ref=sr_1_1_twi_kin_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1508708009&sr=1-1&keywords=avenue+to+heaven

M.L Rigdon (aka Julia Donner)

Follow on Twitter @RigdonML

Blog: https://historyfanforever.wordpress.com/

Website http://www.MLRigdon.com

 

 

Why Are Those Dummies Stumbling Around in the Dark?

Tags

historical, nostalgia, pet peeves, writing

Many people over fifty look at their smart phones and wonder what to do with it besides make calls. I hand mine to my grandson and ask him to employ whatever voodoo is necessary to fix the problem. I’ve succumbed to the fact that there is a new gene that comes with being born in the last twenty years. It’s called the knowwhattodo-technowisegee-nome. Whatever it is, it’s nowhere to be found in my DNA strands.

On the other hand, this same age group came to me one day to ask what happened to the TV remote because they needed to change the channel right now. I remember staring at their stumped expressions, walking over to the TV set, and pressing a button on the side. They looked at their grandmother with awe. A miracle, and I stood amazed at how quickly time erases the simplest aspects of life.

One of the most difficult tasks of penning historical works is keeping one’s head in the time period. Impetuous lovers rush up unlit staircases, down halls then into black rooms with no thought of lighting. There were no light switches on walls prior to the late eighteen-nineties, and yet the hasty pair can see each other perfectly as they whip out of their clothes. To be fair to all genres, I’ve encountered this (what I call the Dark Room Stupidity Affect) in fantasy works, where the world building has laid out a primitive culture and yet there is perpetual lighting.

Perhaps I should have titled this post Bring on the Flaming Torches.

Some writers are so deep into visualizing the action in their minds that they set their scenes as if on a stage, where someone in the light booth has set the computer with cues. Instant let there be light.

Uh-no.

We all have our little peeves that make us shake our heads in disgust. The last time I threw a book across the room was when I read about a ball in the nineteenth century where a man cut-in on a dancing couple. First, I doubt kids today even know what it means to cut-in, but more importantly, the practice of interrupting a couple during a dance didn’t come about until the beginning of the twentieth century. Women carried dance cards, often with tasseled, little pencils attached. They looked like tiny booklets. Inside there were lines where a gentleman could write his name for a specific dance from a waltz to a schottische. Some women preferred to write the names down, and of course, the gentleman should have been previously introduced before signing up for the cotillion. The cards were saved as mementos, to sigh over the next day, following weeks and years.

Years ago, there were specific, well-accepted rules of courteous behavior when it came to social engagements, just as there are today. It’s rude to talk on your cell or scan messages when with others. At the very least, ask to be pardoned. Manners are slowly disappearing in current culture but were an ingrained fabric of life a century ago.

Don’t get me started on horses. I’m boggled at how teams, mounts, and rigs can appear and disappear, like vapor. For a drive in town, whether one had servants or not, horses hooves had to be cleaned before driving or riding, tack had to be selected, carried, harnessed or tacked. A horse should not be taken directly from standing in a stall without some sort of warming up, the horsie stretch-out. Sometimes carriages had to be rolled out of the carriage houses and barns to an open area for harnessing. Seasons and weather demanded changes. After the equipage came back, tack/harness had to be carefully cleaned and stored, equipages checked for damage and cleaned, the horses had to be walked if overheated, wiped down, cooled, then fed and watered. The easy way to get around in a western town was to use hired equipages. Most towns had a livery of some sort or someone who would provide the services, and yet, I’ve read of women, who wore corsets, hats, parasols, gloves that they wouldn’t want smudged, layers of clothes, hopping into a rig for a quick drive to somewhere. There were no quick trips, unless on horseback, on flat land, and at a full-out, hard gallop.

On the other hand, when it comes to authenticity, there are exceptions. When reading medieval, I don’t want to know exactly what it was like in the castle, where the air was thick of the stench of the midden or overfull jakes. In the dark ages, you could watch fleas jumping from one person to the next, share a haunch of food with the guy sitting next to you, who probably couldn’t remember the last time he’d washed his hands. OK, let’s not go there.

Next time: Hometown Ghost Stories or Yesteryear Urban Legend