Cudos to Bev!
I’ve only read the first few pages, and recognize them from one of your blogs 😀 but I can see this is going to be a good read.
Congrats on writing the book and getting it out!
Alice
Guest Blog with Mr. Al: The Tudors
Some time ago I asked Mr. Al to provide me with a guest blog- something having to do with marriage in history, his choice. He came up with a wonderful bit about Henry the VIII which he promptly posted over in FanLit Forever! Harumph. This is his sequiel to it.
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Some persons have made it known that they enjoyed my previous post on the Tudor follies. I was and am tickled pink that so many, all six or seven of you, found the reading worthwhile. As a result, I have decided to continue on the subject. I would have posted something earlier had I not fallen into a very old, yet still effective, procrastination trap. I had to do more research.
Let me say at the outset that I take a back seat to no one in my admiration for research. Not only is it entertaining in it’s own right, it is also necessary. But…(There’s always a “but”) it can often become a seductive trap. It works, as all good seductions do, because the writer wants to be seduced. Nothing like a little “research” to justify staying away from the keyboard. And you are learning sooooo much!
Enough. Back to the subject. Henry had a number of problems that cropped up as a result of his solution to his marital difficulties. One was that Catherine was not going to be put aside without a fight. She had powerful friends, both in England and on the continent. She intended to use them. Henry’s biblical fig leaf justifying his actions, that the Bible forbade a man marrying his brothers widow suffered a setback when Catherine made it known that that particular injunction didn’t apply to her since Arthur, Henry’s brother, never consummated the marriage. It would seem that Arthur wasn’t…er…into girls. Alas, for Catherine, that wasn’t the only card Henry had to play.
That line was rendered moot when he decided he didn’t need the Pope’s permission after all! Not if he broke with the Catholic Church and had himself declared the supreme head of a brand spank’n new Church of England! Since he would be the sole authority on church doctrine. Royal divorces would be A-Okay! It was a win/win situation for Henry.
But there was a hitch.
Many of the men who backed Henry in his plan to break with Rome did so because they were Protestants. It was still very illegal to be Protestant in England. While Henry may have had his differences with Rome, he was NOT ready to embrace the reformation. In his heart of hearts, Henry was Catholic. These men had to proceed carefully. They envisioned a full-blown reformation in England…eventually. For the time being they had to hide their Protestant beliefs and play up the other benefits of the deal, English autonomy in matters of faith, money, Henry as pontiff, money, all that Catholic property that would belong to the king, money, Henry getting to marry Anne, money, ecclesiastic courts brought under the jurisdiction of the crown, money, So on and so forth. The fact that Henry and his councilors had VERY different ideas as to what the final product of Henry’s ambition would look like meant serious trouble for the English people after Henrys death.
What made any of this possible was that England was ready for a reformation. While most Englishmen were Catholic, the Church had been abusing its authority in England as badly as it had been on the continent. People were getting fed up with the corruption that was not only sending their money to Rome, but more importantly, was endangering their souls! How could illiterate priests offer salvation when they could not even read the Bible to their largely illiterate congregations on Sunday? Badly trained priests who muddled through the sacraments, who couldn’t even perform last rites properly were worse than useless. They were dangerous!
The fact that progressive Catholics in England and elsewhere were trying, desperately, to reform the Church from within was not cutting any ice with the men and women who had discovered a new way to be Christian. The idea behind the reformation was very simple. Direct communion with God through the reading of scripture. Each man and woman is responsible for his/ her OWN salvation. Salvation would come through accepting Christ into one’s life and through living a Christian life as directed by Gods revealed word. No priests, no cardinals, no masses or images of saints. Indeed, so virulent was the iconoclasm that an enormous amount of ecclesiastic art was lost forever to the bonfires of the “reformers”
It wasn’t only the Catholic Church that had a problem with this. Henry wasn’t real thrilled with it either. If the king was to be head of a new Church of England he couldn’t have his subjects running around thinking they didn’t need any church at all! Where’s the percentage in that? Henry wanted the members of HIS church to tow the line! But that would come later. What he wanted most at the moment, he got. Catherine was no longer his wife. And not a moment too soon because Henry was in no mood to wait around for the ink to dry on the divorce decree. Anne was very pregnant before the lovebirds were officially married at the end of January 1533.
If Henry’s actions were giving Pope Clement ulcers, and he had a full dance card as it was, they were giving Emperor Charles reason to think an invasion of England might be pleasing unto the Lord. But not right away. France was still a problem for Charles, which made gallivanting off to England problematic. Besides, Catherine had not been deprived of her property. Mary was still head of the line of succession, for the time being. As long as Mary’s position was unchanged, Charles felt a bit of saber rattling and strongly worded letters to Henry regarding his aunts, and Mary’s, well being would suffice. He was also keeping a very close watch on the situation through his ambassadors/spies in Henrys court. Any guy who would break with Rome and set up his OWN church was capable of ANYTHING! Who knew what he might do next?
I hope to have the next installment done before we have to leave for Belize. Thanks again for being loyal readers and you can drop change into the coffee can next to the door on your way out.
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Thank you Mr. Al.
Alice
Suzie’s House 11: Good Morning
Suzie gave Ben a quick kiss on the forehead as she handed him a nylon, thermal lunch box.
“Mom,” Ben wriggled his shoulders uncomfortably. “Don’t do that.” He looked past her shoulder.
Following his gaze, Suzie glanced down the hall running the length of the house right down the middle from the front door to the utility room. Drew stood at the opposite end, over by entry to the kitchen.
“Ah,” Suzie said knowingly. So Ben didn’t want Drew to see him as nothing but a little kid. She could understand that. Instead of saying “I love you” out loud the way she always had before they took in boarders, she mouthed it. “Have a good day.”
Ben grinned his gratitude, then charged out the front door. A yellow school bus rolled past, making him sprint off to the bus stop.
After closing the door Suzie turned around. Drew leaned against the wall where he had been standing before, his arms folded.
“Do you need something?” She headed toward him, but instead of stopping in the hall, she turned the corner and headed into the kitchen. She did not want to stand in the hall to chat where she would have to look up at his handsome face and pretend her attraction to him didn’t bother her.
Coming into the warm and inviting kitchen after having traveled through the shadowy central hall made her feel good. The cupboards and stove called to her. More than any other part of the house, this was home.
He followed close behind. “I’d like to talk.” His voice was rich and deep. She liked it, but it made her uncomfortable.
“All right.” Rather than look him in the eye, she pulled out a porcelain mixing bowl, the kind with the thick blue line an inch or so below the rim. Next she grabbed the canister in which she kept her quick mix. She measured out enough for a batch of pancakes.
“What are you doing?”
“Making pancakes.”
“You don’t have to do that. Remember what we agreed on during supper last night? You only have to cook dinner four times a week. You don’t have to make us breakfast at all.”
“I know. And thanks for last night.” Suzie gave him a smile, then stepped around him to get milk and eggs from the refrigerator. He was such a considerate man. She really appreciated his support last night. But he wasn’t going to keep her from cooking when she felt like it. At the moment she very much felt like it.
He took the eggs and milk from her hands and set them on the counter. “Then why are you doing it?”
Suzie shrugged. “I feel like it.”
He caught her in a stiff-armed grasp before she could get around him. His hands were large, covering her shoulders more effectively than the shoulder pads in the 80’s retro power jacket hanging in the back of her closet. Warm and firm, his hands held her with gentle strength. She sternly told herself not to think of him in sexual terms, though she couldn’t keep from thinking what it would be like to be held close.
“Really? You aren’t doing it because Miranda wants you to do it?”
Suzie snorted a burst of laughter. “No. Miranda is my best friend, but I don’t cook just because she expects it. Now, if you don’t mind.” She regretfully peeled one of his hands off her shoulder, then let go and stepped back.
“All right. But if you ever need someone to back you up, I’ll be there for you.” He held her gaze, his expression earnest and sincere.
Suzie smiled, then grinned . The man was serious. He wanted to be her friend. “Thanks. I’ll remember that.” Before she did something stupid she measured out the milk and cracked two eggs. “Do you have time for breakfast? There’ll be plenty.”
“Sure.” He settled in one of the chairs around the kitchen table. “I won’t be going anywhere until this afternoon. Do you make pancakes every day?”
“No. Sometimes I make cereal.” She flashed him another grin, glancing up only long enough to see that he caught the joke.
He flashed a smile back, getting the message and returning it with interest. “Lucky Charms? I’m partial to Wheeties myself.”
Vin walked in, and automatically went to the cupboard, and pulled out a stack of plates. “Ben’s at school, right?” He had four of them in his hand.
“Yep. Thanks Vin.”
“Taking a lot for granted, aren’t you, Vin?” Drew took the plates from Vin and disbursed them around the kitchen table while Vin dipped into the silverware drawer.
“I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist. Suzie likes to cook.”
“Sometimes,” Suzie said. “When I feel like it. Right now I feel like it.”
Really, she didn’t mind Vin’s assumption. She knew he would have simply grabbed something out of the refrigerator if he hadn’t found her cooking when he came into the kitchen. Drew was the one who made her nervous, though she had a feeling he would simply serve himself the same as Vin.
Drew arched an eyebrow from the other side of the table, but said nothing.In the mood for something a little extra, Suzie washed up some strawberries and set out some yogurt to top her pancakes as well as setting out maple syrup for anyone who wanted it.
Miranda waltzed into the kitchen next. She looked at Drew and smiled, then looked at Vin and lost her smile, then caught sight of the platter filled with pancakes and grinned.
“I knew you’d be too nervous not to cook,” she said as she pulled out a chair.
Suzie darted a glance at Drew, and regretted it immediately. Understanding dawned on his handsome face, then grew into a wide, knowing smile. If he’d been Vin he probably would have winked. Instead, he helped himself to some pancakes, smile firmly entrenched.
The previous was Suzie’s House 10: Rub A Dub Dub
This is Suzie’s House 11: Good Morning
Next is Suzie’s House 12: All In A Day’s Work
"I Know What I Like"
Editors and Agents are constantly answering the question “What are you looking for?” with some variation on “A really good book.”
This is, of course, the ultimate truth. No editor or agent wants to put the effort into a project they don’t like. It is such an obvious truth that it is of no use whatsoever to the average writer.
The problem is that we are all human. Editors, agents, writers, publishers, readers, everyone involved with the publishing industry has a unique opinion on what is or is not good. Personal taste plays an enormous roll, and can be very hard to pin down.
I love my work. I love every book I’ve ever written, even the ones that were DOA. There is a chance I may be the only one in the world who does. Still, if you ask me if my books are good, I will tell you yes. Of course they are. I consider most of them to be “a really good book.” That doesn’t mean I should send any of them off to just anyone or to everyone.
Thus I am stuck with that hideous question, “What do you like?”
I understand why agents and editors respond with to the question with a generalized answer. They don’t want to pin themselves down when a particularly well written and engaging story can make them change their minds about particular genres or styles or what have you. Nor do they wish to be flooded with books about peacocks or granola bars after having mentioned an interest in them.
Consider the question from a reader’s perspective. As a reader I am quite willing to read any book so good that my friends place a copy in my hands and say “You have got to read this!” I will read such a book even when it is a variety I would not otherwise give a second glance. But when I reach for a book that I have no reason to believe will be any better than what I normally read, I generally reach for the same sort of things repeatedly.
Most writers I know, including myself, firmly believe we write something people will enjoy while also recognizing that our books are not necessarily the best things ever written. We want to put them in the hands of editors and agents who would naturally reach for this kind of book simply because it’s the kind they like. That is why we keep asking the same questions.
What do you like? What are you looking for now? How about a light hearted Romantic Suspense with a lot of sensuality, a quirky sense of humor, and a truly horrific bad guy? How about sensual Historical Romances set in Regency England? How about High Fantasy? Sensual Science Fiction? Private Investigators?
The question isn’t going away. Writers prefer to reduce the amount of rejection they have to suffer as much as possible. Finding someone with the right tastes is part of that effort. Short of flinging our work on an unsuspecting desk and hoping for the best, the fastest way to know if it’s the right place for a given book is to listen to the answer to that question.
Alice
Belize Still On. I Hope.
Ok. Cross our fingers and hope nobody gets any sicker and it looks like we can still all go. I hope. It mostly depends on things like my cyst, my mothe’rs hip replacement, and my son’s strep throat. But at least we were all able to get our shots after all. For a while we weren’t so sure. We are cutting the timing a bit close.
So, for anyone I haven’t already told, I’m not going to be very active here the first week of April. But I’ll have interesting travel stuff to talk about and maybe some pictures of Belize when I get back.
Meanwhile, I’m hoping I can get back to a more interesting blog when I’m not driving 40 miles to get shots or arranging emergency visits to the pediatrician.
Alice
To Belize or Not To Belize, That Is The Question
Gah!
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Travel plans on hold.
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I hate disease
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Alice
Hello
Yes, we’re having some problems in the Audrey household. This time, exposure to Scarlet Fever. Probably nothing but bad timing.
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Alice
Cindy's Cafe au Frisson (café con escalofrío)
Here’s Cindy’s real recipe for Cafe au Frisson:
4 cups steaming coffee or decaf
2 ounces tequila
2 ounces Kahlua
2 ounces brandy
2 ounces Rompope (a creamy vanilla Mexican liqueur) or Irish Cream if unavailable
whipped cream to garnish
Brew 4 cups coffee, let cool. Pour liquors and ice in tall glass, pour in coffee. Top with Whipped cream. Serve responsibly.
Quiet Days
It’s a quiet day today. Hardly anyone has come by my blog, and not many are likely to. On days like this I feel a wild urge to do something crazy and say something I shouldn’t. It’s like being the hair cutting heroine from Susan Elizabeth Phillips book This Heart of Mine.
Down, Alice. Down!
Alice
Suzie’s House 10 : Rub A Dub Dub
Miranda lifted a hand out of the tub, letting the water trickle down her arm and sighed. She loved this old claw-foot bathtub. It had a high back, claw feet, and an old fashioned faucet complete with porcelain handles. She felt like a real lady with her hair piled on top of her head and the water fragrant with lavender bath salts.
Everything had worked out perfectly. She had Vin and Drew and Suzie and herself all together in one house. Ben was a great addition, but as far as Miranda was concerned his presence was pure icing.
At last she would have the sense of family that had always eluded her.
Lord knew her alcoholic mother never made much effort to provide Miranda with a home. She had no siblings, and a father she’d never meet. The only time Miranda felt welcomed and supported, like a member of a real family, was when she hung out with Suzie.
And now she could hang out with Suzie all the time!
A momentary twinge of conscience bothered her. She hadn’t meant to make things hard for Suzie. Of course Miranda would help with the cooking and cleaning. They would all help out, just like a real family would.
Miranda splashed like a little kid, happier than she’d been in a long time. Now that she had everyone together nature would take it’s course. She’d end up with Drew and Suzie would end up with Vin and they’d all live happily ever after.
“Miranda?” Vin pounded on the door. “You about done in there?”
“Use the downstairs bathroom,” she called back with only a touch of irritation.
“I want to talk to you.”
“I’ll be out when I’m good and ready.”
There was silence from the other side of the door for several seconds. Then a sigh barely loud enough to be heard through the door. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Promise you’ll come down.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” she yelled merrily. Not two minutes later she noticed how pruney her fingers were and got out of the tub.
She didn’t bother dressing, merely dried off then shrugged into her silk robe before trotting downstairs to the kitchen.
Vin stood at the counter, running the blender. As she watched he poured vodka on top of what looked like a slushy snow cone.
“What are you making?”
“Café au frisson. Cindy showed me how to make it.”
“Cindy? The girl in the apartment next door?”
“Yeah.” Vin grabbed the coffee pot out of the coffee maker and poured some into a mug. Bottles of Kalua, Rompope, and brandy sat on the counter.
“Since when have you been hanging out with her?” Miranda crossed her arms, pulling the robe in a way it wasn’t designed, but also catching Vin’s eye.
He looked her over with a flattering level of appreciation and a charming smile. “Jealous?”
“Pft! You wish.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything. He put some to the contents of the blinder into the mug.
“Are you sure that’s the way you’re supposed to do it?”
“Yes it’s the right way to do it.”
“I’ll bet if Cindy was here she’d tell you you’re doing it the wrong way. Looks good. Mind if I have some?” She gave him a little smile.
He smiled back, looking hopeful and doubtful at the same time. And warm and brotherly too. “Sure.” He took a sip out of his mug, then handed it to her, challenge in his eyes.
She went around him and took a mug off the rack. She put the contents of the blender in first, then added coffee.
“You’re supposed to put whipped cream on top, but I didn’t see any in the frig.”
“Suzie always makes it fresh.” She took a sip, then rolled her eyes and sighed. “Perfect.”
“Are you wearing anything under that?” Vin had his gaze on her chest with a look of longing on his face.
“What did you want to talk about?” She said it a bit more sharply than she might have, with a cynical tone under the crackle and a hint of the world weary. It wasn’t really how she felt, but she knew it would keep Vin at bay.
“I want to know why you pushed so hard to get me and Drew to move in. Don’t tell me it’s for Suzie’s sake. It’s more than obvious she isn’t thrilled with the whole thing.” He leaned back against the counter, crossing both arms and ankles. His eyes narrowed a bit. “So what’s in it for you?”
Miranda was at a loss. She and Vin went back several years now. He was almost as close a friends as Suzie, and Miranda didn’t have that many friends. Besides, he was part of her household. It wasn’t like she tricked him into moving in.
“I just thought we could be… you know….” She shrugged. “One big happy family.”
“One. Big. Happy. Family.” Vin sucked his lips in and nodded pensively.
“Yeah.” Miranda was starting to feel a bit more defensive. “You think I’m lying or something?”
“That’s all you want? For us to get along?”
“Yeah. Sure,” she said without conviction.
“All right, if we’re one, big, happy family then tell me this. Who’s the daddy?”
“What do you mean?”
“Clearly Suzie is the mommy in your little script. She does the cooking and the cleaning, all that housewife stuff. And you’re a little brat sometimes so you must be one of the kids. So who’s the daddy? Is it me or Drew? Am I your daddy? ‘Cause that isn’t how I feel.”
“No!” Miranda huffed a wry chuckle. “You aren’t father material.”
Drew drained the last of the contents on his mug then set it in the sink with a bit more force than strictly necessary. Not bothering to look at her again he stalked toward the door. Right before leaving, he turned back, spearing her with the anger in his eyes.
“One last thing. You can’t marry daddy. If Drew is the daddy, then leave him alone.” His eyes raked her with so much heat that he made her shiver as he walked out.
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The previous was Suzie’s House 9: Dinner!
This is Suzie’s House 10: Rub A Dub Dub
Next is Suzie’s House 11: Good Morning
Central Conflict
Yesterday I said “It’s the way a character reveals him or her self through the struggle with the central conflict that keeps us turning pages.” The first time I heard that sentence it simply went in one ear and out the other. But it kept coming back over and over again. Apparently there is something to it.
So let’s look at it.
Conflict is important because it generates questions which can be used as hooks. When you have a central conflict not only do you naturally generate all kinds of hooks, those hooks line up in a pattern which provides the reader with a sense of something greater and more significant going on.
With a collection of conflicts rather than a central conflict the story feels episodic or disorganized. It’s possible to chose a pair of central conflicts which interact with each other and end up with something brilliant, but don’t count on it.
The right kind of central conflict can make it easier to build the book toward the climax, thus not only providing a structure, but the providing the kind of structure readers enjoy most.
So what’s the right kind of conflict?
Something that is not easily solved. If it’s simply a misunderstanding between hero and heroine then they end up looking stupid for not talking it out quick enough. If the antagonist is easily dealt with then the hero and heroine look indecisive for not dealing with him or her.
Something not impossible to solve. If the conflict comes from the nature of the hero and heroine such that changing either of them to accommodate the other would make them less noble, less kind, or otherwise less worthy then it’s impossible to believe they will or should stay together at the end.
Ideally the central conflict will allow you to delve into deeper, more meaningful aspects of human nature. If it involves archetypes then the resulting book is a lot more likely to be a keeper.
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Alice
Alice's Take on GMC, Part I
GMC stands for Goal, Motivation and Conflict. To get the real scoop on GMC you need to refer to Debra Dixon. She literally wrote the book on Goals, Motivation, And Conflict and does lectures on it for Romance Writer’s of America both in the RWA Chapters and at National.
The point of the book and lectures is that every effective character comes equipped with at least one set of goals which are motivated by the character’s beliefs and that the goals are thwarted by something, thus generating conflict. She goes on to discuss internal and external goals and how to set up a chart showing how the goals, motivation, and conflict work together to make a GMC matrix. (Note: I think she used the word matrix for it. It’s been a while since I read the book and I can’t find my copy. If she doesn’t say “matrix” to mean the way the parts of GMC come together then tough because I’m going to.)
First, like most tools for working with the structure of fiction, focusing on GMC while working on the rough draft can mess you up. I have found it useful in plotting before writing and extremely useful in both revision and critique, and am now so comfortable with the concepts that I can even think about them while producing dialogue and action narrative. But trying to keep goals and motives and conflicts in mind while putting the words on paper before you are really comfortable with GMC can give you writer’s block. So if this is new to you, don’t worry about it while you are actually writing.
Second, Debra may say that every character needs his or her own GMC, even the waiter delivering an order. Personally, I haven’t the time. I definitely recommend having a clear GMC matrix for the protagonists, and maybe for some of the more prominent secondary characters, but face it, some characters are little more than furniture. Let them fulfill their roll and don’t worry about it.
Now lets talk a little about why you want to worry about GMC at all. I know a number of people who fight the idea of putting conflict in their work, or dislike working with a character who has goals, or who aren’t comfortable with motivation. You want a good combination of GMC because a really good GMC matrix gives your work what is kindly referred to as “good suction.” In other words, the story sucks the reader in, then draws them helplessly through the entire story until the very end when they should “That was great! Let’s do it again!” You want that, right?
It’s the way a character reveals him or her self through the struggle with the central conflict that keeps us turning pages. Finding a goal and motivation that apply to the central conflict act like the strings on a marionette – when drawn tight the jumble of parts turns into something approaching human.
Alice
Back on the Soapbox
I held off on changing the menu for this blog because I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do with it. Then I forgot I hadn’t changed it. Then I realized I don’t really need to change it much.
I am finding everything I want to blog about comes back to writing. Not simply an occasional discussion of a particular book or philosophical point. I like talking about the nuts and bolts of it, even if Milady Insanity no longer rounds it up.
Knowing me, it’ll start out as a mini lecture about some detail or another and escalate into a full soapbox. All I can ask for is your forgiveness and tolerance. And to not warn you when I’m going to do it. 😀
Alice
Grape Spritzer
Giving up cola? Try this.
From Southern Living Cooking Light by Susan McIntosh
8 lime slices
5 1/3 cups club soda, chilled
2 2/3 cups unsweetened grape juice, chilled
place 1 lime in each of 8 glasses. Combine club soda and grape juice; mix well. Pour 1 cup mixture over lime slice in each glass. Yield 8 cups. About 55 calories per 1 cup serving.
Yes, I know it’s more than the light cola’s but I’ll bet it doesn’t give you a headache.
Bon Appetite
Alice
