Teenage boys sometimes have the most shocking lack of sensitivity...

I'm researching the East India Company for my latest book (The Marquess Who Loved Me, coming soon, I swear), and I'm stumbling across all sorts of fascinating anecdotes and snippets of travel letters. Consider this gem, from a biography of John Palmer of Calcutta. Before John Palmer became the wealthiest English merchant in Calcutta, he was a 15-year-old boy in the Navy. Here's a snippet from a letter he wrote to his mother after seeing action:

I was in the third action, which I assure you was remarkably severe, I was stationed on the quarter deck, which place was one continued scene of slaughter, not having less than ten men killed or wounded; I fortunately escaped unhurt. I say fortunately for I was of some service that day.

Way to make your mum feel better, John Palmer!

By the way, Palmer's rise to greatness was swift, but he had a penchant for fathering children (his wife, rumored to be an Anglo-Indian, was five months pregnant when they married and went on to have more than a dozen kids), a dangerous combo of innate generosity and bad character judgment, and an extreme willingness to take in houseguests (for example, a penniless orphan was sent to him from England, looking for a husband, and she lived with them at least four years with no success even in the sausage fest that was British society in Calcutta - there must be a story there). In 1830, his bad decisions and horde of mooching children caught up with him, and his downfall caused a Lehman Brothers-esque domino collapse of the Calcutta financial houses. If only he had been nicer to his mother...karma's a b*tch.

[source: THE RICHEST EAST INDIA MERCHANT: JOHN PALMER OF CALCUTTA, 1767-1836, by Anthony Webster. I checked my copy out from Stanford Library, but you can find it on Amazon here. It's probably not worth $80 unless you're hardcore into the East India Company, but if you can find it in a library, it makes for some interesting insight into the financial companies and private traders that operated despite the EIC's 'monopoly' even before 1813]

Vocab for the Regency Challenged

In the lead-up to the launch of my debut book, I realized that I have a lot of family and friends who may want to read my book but have no knowledge whatsoever of the Regency period. So, I put together a fast-and-loose set of definitions for some of the most common Regency terms, trying to equate them to modern-day events wherever possible. I'll keep adding to it as more words come up, so leave a comment if there are any that I missed!

• stays: Regency-era corset.
• French pox: before the French were known as surrender monkeys, they had a reputation for syphilis. Really, the British and French should be nicer to each other.
• protector: a high-class mistress has a dedicated 'protector' who pays her upkeep in exchange for sex (or 'conversation', if you prefer to believe that). So, Richard Gere in Pretty Woman, if he had just bought Julia Roberts a house rather than marrying her.
• ton: a French word, short for haut ton, which is basically the English aristocracy. You can only be part of the ton through birth. If you are a dude who makes an insane amount of money, you could marry your daughter to an impoverished baron who needs the funds - you still wouldn't be accepted in the ton, and she would be smirked at all her life, but her son would be accepted. Awesome plan, right?
• foxed: drunk (see: end result of my launch party).
• Gretna Green: a town on the Scottish border famed for its quickie marriages, since it was easier to marry in Scotland than in England. Like eloping to Vegas, only with less gambling/neon lights/Elvis and more haggis.
• your grace: a duke or a duchess is called 'your grace'; all other nobles (marquesses/earls/viscounts/barons, in that order) are called 'my lord'. Oh, and an earl's wife is called a countess, and a marquess's wife is called a marchioness. Aren't you sad that the US got its independence?
• bluestocking: a woman who likes studying, reading, and learning things. Clearly she must be shunned.
• ape-leader: a spinster, usually over the age of thirty (shut your mouth about my age) - at that point, a woman was 'on the shelf' and likely wouldn't marry. Supposedly called an ape-leader because the afterlife punishment for failing to marry and procreate is to lead apes in hell. Awesome!
• rake: sort of a cross between a manwhore and a metrosexual.
• gentleman's club: a place where men could go to eat/play cards/discuss politics. Men visiting London could live at their club rather than renting a house. So, it's a cross between the YMCA (sans swimming pools and Village People) and a hot nightclub (sans strippers or women of any kind). White's and Brooks's are two of the most famous.
• demimonde: another French word, describing the world inhabited by high-class mistresses and courtesans. They were some of the most famous women of their day, and everyone knew who they were - but well-bred ladies pretended they didn't exist. It's like if we all knew who the Kardashians were, but we weren't allowed to talk about them incessantly.
• manroot: I'm confident you'll figure this out in context.
• Newgate: a freaking awful prison in London (although all prisons were probably freaking awful then). It housed everyone from debtors to murderers, and sometimes their families too. Jailers extorted prisoners, demanding money for everything from food to fresh air.
• toilette: the general act of getting ready (clothing, hair, etc.). The most famous courtesans/actresses, particularly in the years preceding the Regency, would invite men to watch their toilette - not in the dirty pornographic way that isn't appropriate for this blog, but rather in a sort of reverse striptease.
• reticule: a handbag. In the era before my beloved Marc by Marc Jacobs, when people had nothing better to do, a lot of women made their own bags.
• set-down: a blistering insult meant to trim someone's sails/cut them down to size. My fave!
• cut/cut direct: worse than a set-down. A cut involved pretending not to see someone you knew. A cut direct was done by staring at someone, then refusing to acknowledge them. Pretty much considered the most humiliating thing ever, although clearly these people had never seen Carrie.
• fast: daring. A woman was 'fast' if she dampened her chemise so that her gown clung to her body, or if she wore drawers (which were still scandalous during the Regency; it was more appropriate to go commando back then).
• Mayfair: the most fashionable neighborhood in London during the Regency (and still one of the most expensive today).
• rustication: if someone was out of money, or in disgrace, they usually went to their estate in the country to 'rusticate' (like a rustic).
• toad-eating: sucking up or trying to curry favor.
• marriage mart: all the events of a London social season added up to a marriage mart, in which mothers were hell-bent on ensuring their daughters didn't become ape-leaders, and men were either looking for brides or trying to avoid it all by chilling at their clubs.
• on dit: a French word for a bit of gossip. The English sure did like their French words, even when they were at war with France off and on for centuries.

Like I said above, I'll keep updating this list as I get questions, so leave a comment if anything isn't clear. And anyone who comments on any blog post between now and Sunday, 1/22/12, at 11:59pm PST is entered to win one of three free copies of Heiress Without a Cause!

What the #%&@ is the Ton?

One of my relatives read HEIRESS WITHOUT A CAUSE last night and called me to tell me he was halfway through. I was flattered that he actually read it -- given that I've known him my entire life, I was hoping he'd shell out $3.99 for it, but reading it was a bonus. And he seemed to enjoy it, although he did say there were fewer submarines in it than the stuff he normally reads (note to self: create a heroine who is into submersibles). Anyway, he mentioned that he'd had to look up more words with this book than anything he's read in a long time. "Ton" was the hardest, since a Google search for "ton" won't easily turn up an explanation on English upperclass society, but there were all sorts of words that flummoxed him ("flummoxed" included, although I don't think I used it in HEIRESS). And that led me to wonder...how do readers approaching their first Regency romance understand what the heck is going on? I read my first Regency almost twenty years ago, so I can't remember a time when I didn't know the difference between a curricle and a phaeton, or that a marquess is ranked higher than a viscount.

What words or social customs did you find confusing when you first started reading Regencies? Anyone who comments on my blog between now and Sunday, January 22nd, at 11:59pm PST will have a chance to win one of three Nook copies of HEIRESS WITHOUT A CAUSE - so have at it! Tell me what words I should define for new Regency readers, and I'll enter you in the drawing. I'll also post my definitions on Sunday, and hilarity shall ensue.

And by the way, "the ton" is short for "haut ton", a French phrase that the English used to describe their aristocratic class -- the dukes, earls, barons, and other titled people and their families who were part of the "upper ten thousand". It's sort of like a cross between the 1% and being a Hollywood A-lister, except you are born into it and can't rise into it (unless you were extremely, absurdly wealthy, and even then it would take a couple of generations and some great marriages before your family would be accepted). So Suri Cruise would be haut ton, but that upstart Snooki would never be invited to anything.

What I'm Reading: April 2011

I'm on a bit of a reading binge -- of all the binges I engage it, it's the worst for my eyesight, but my hips are certainly happy that I'm choosing books over cupcakes. But since I just finished a manuscript of my own, I'm taking some time to make a dent in my to-be-read pile. The pile is more like a Hydra than a finite resource, and books that I've always meant to read somehow manage to spring up and replace anything I finish, but that is not such a bad problem to have. Here's a taste of what I've read and what I hope to read in April -- what am I missing?

Finished:

- Nora Roberts's Bride Quartet (starting with VISION IN WHITE). Borders's demise was my gain, since I got the whole quartet in trade paperback at 50% off, and I read them over the course of two days (I told you I was bingeing). They're sweet, utterly charming, and put me into the darkest despair over whether I will be able to write such wonderful stories consistently for the next three decades like Ms. Roberts has.

- Deanna Raybourn's SILENT IN THE GRAVE and SILENT IN THE SANCTUARY. These have been on my TBR pile for ages, ever since I got SANCTUARY for free at the '09 RWA conference, but it was her latest release (DARK ROAD TO DARJEELING) that finally prompted me to read them. I love India, so I can't wait to get to DARJEELING, but I was a good girl and went back to the beginning of the series first. These books are wonderful -- the Victorian mystery with strong romantic elements and a very slight tinge of paranormal is a nice break from what I usually read, and the heroine is great. Better, the hero is my favorite kind of brooding, enigmatic alpha male -- I very much recommend them (and him ;).

- Anne Stuart's RUTHLESS. This reminded me a lot of Georgette Heyer's THESE OLD SHADES, if Heyer had written sex scenes (which would have made her books the best romance novels in the history of the world). However, I can only recommend RUTHLESS if you have a secret fondness for the bad old romances of the '80s -- there's more kidnapping/coercion than one usually sees in modern romances. If you, like me, have a tattered collection of Johanna Lindsey books that you sometimes go to for comfort, you'll probably love this.

To Read:

- Homer's THE ODYSSEY. Okay, not so romantic. But my next book involves some ODYSSEY-like wandering, and I actually adore the translation by Robert Fagles that I linked to above. I read it all the way through a decade ago, and I'm excited to revisit it.

- Sarah MacLean's TEN WAYS TO BE ADORED WHILE LANDING A LORD. Another score from a bankrupt Borders; I loved her debut, and can't wait to read this one.

- Christina Dodd's TAKEN BY THE PRINCE. This is getting a lot of good buzz on Twitter and was recommended by a bookseller, so it's sitting on my shelf gathering dust until I get to it.

- Amanda Quick's ARCANE SOCIETY books. Her alter ego, Jayne Ann Krentz, is speaking at Kepler's Bookstore in Menlo Park on April 26, and since I devoured all of Amanda Quick's early books before somehow falling away from them, I'm eager to get back into her work before the talk.

What have you read recently? What are you planning to read? What should I add to my teetering TBR pile? Please share!

There, but for the grace of God...

One of the authors I follow on Twitter is Courtney Milan, who has released a series of excellent historicals over the past year and has another book, UNVEILED, coming out in January. If the cover alone wasn't enough to seduce me, I'm quite intrigued by the premise - the hero has just found information to get the heroine (and her brothers) declared illegitimate, which means that he will inherit their father's dukedom while the duke's kids will be cast out of society. But, as these things happen, the hero and heroine meet and fall in love despite all that. Sounds lovely, right? So I was quite saddened for Ms. Milan when my Twitter feed gave me all the details of a review for her book that went horribly awry.

Basically, Publishers Weekly's review (scroll to the middle of the page) of UNVEILED proclaimed "the love story...genuinely satisfying and Margaret's dilemma movingly portrayed", which is a v. good thing. But, the reviewer also said "the conflict [is] dependent on the unlikely scenario of Parliament legitimizing a bigamist's bastards, fatally marring an otherwise promising novel."

Daggers, right? That's the kind of review that kills a little bit of a writer's soul, or at least I imagine it is - particularly writers who really, truly care about and strive for historical accuracy. And Ms. Milan does care about accuracy; while she didn't respond to the review directly, she did a very calm, thorough post about the historical research that went into her plot, and there really was a case in Britain in which a family under similar circumstances was legitimized by an Act of Parliament. As a result of the tempest in the Twitter teakettle over this, PW did revise the review slightly to say "unlikely scenario" (before, I believe it said something more along the lines of "impossible", but don't quote me), but the review still stings.

Now, I don't know Ms. Milan (although I have won two different books from her on Twitter, so I suppose I'm biased towards thinking she's a v. nice person), I don't know the reviewer, and I don't know the deep intricacies of English inheritance law. But the hard thing about writing historical romances is that there is a divide between "history" (i.e. what really, factually happened) and "romance history" (i.e. what is commonly accepted as fact in the world that Smart Bitches/Trashy Books would call "Romancelandia"). As a minor example, in Romancelandia, the waltz is danced in nearly every London-based Regency romance -- but in the real world, everything I've read indicates that it wasn't danced until at least 1813, and didn't get a broader blessing until 1816 or later.

So the readership and the reviewers have what they consider a very clear sense of what "Regency" (or, in Ms. Milan's case, Victorian) is, and writers who stray away from Romancelandia into the "real world" are treading a very narrow line. And I must admit that before this brouhaha, I would have also said that the plot sounded unlikely - I'm part of the Beau Monde online special-interest chapter of RWA geared toward the Regency, and the fact that bastards cannot and will never inherit has been rehashed in that group many times. But, the legal case that Ms. Milan found has never come up there either, and I believe her now that I've seen it.

But as an author, how do you handle these questions of historical accuracy? As a reader, can you trust that the author has done their research, or do you throw the book against the wall when it violates the precepts of Romancelandia? As editors and agents continue to look for new and fresh stories, writers must go farther afield in search of inspiration - and what they bring back, while based in fact, may not meet the sniff test for those who believe that Romancelandia's Regency period and the real Regency are the same thing.

Ms. Milan said that perhaps an author's note explaining her research might have helped; perhaps that really is the only way to win over the disbelieving reviewer. It's certainly something I will consider if I publish a story that doesn't match readers' understanding of the period - after all, if I felt major sympathy pangs for the author after reading the review, I can't imagine how it would feel to be the direct recipient of that kind of unfounded criticism.

But what do you think? Are most readers more forgiving than the reviewer was? Or is an author's note the only way to deal with this?

Historical vs. "Historical"

I wasn't as productive with the book tonight as I would have liked. I spent far too much time playing around on Wikipedia, abandoning my recent tactic of putting [CHECK] after any dubious or uncertain historical fact while writing the first draft. This tactic is a good one, since it encourages me to stay out of the interweb and away from doing a 'quick' lookup that leads into a three-hour journey down a variety of rabbit-holes. But I was debating whether to give Ferguson a fan, since the most over-the-top dandies seem to have some sort of ridiculous affectation, and that led to a lot of reading up on fashion websites.

The problem is that there is real history, in terms of contemporary accounts, well-researched nonfiction, etc. And then there is 'romance history' -- the world that Regency romance has built up over several decades, with 'rules' and 'facts' that are now accepted as the gold standard by most readers, but that just aren't very historically accurate. For instance, the waltz -- it wasn't danced at all in the early Regency, was still seen as very risque during the mid-Regency, and only came into wider acceptance in 1815 or 1816 (or later, depending on your source). But every Regency romance has the hero and heroine waltzing with each other, because the other dances of the time were more group-style (think country line-dancing, only without the boots, plaid, and awful music), and group dances where the hero and heroine are only together for bits and pieces aren't conducive to flirty conversations.

So now I have a dilemma on my hands. Do I write a romance that is as grounded in fact as possible, even if that means doing away with conventions that are accepted (and even expected) by most readers? Or do I ignore some of this and accept that these romances aren't historically accurate anyway, and just write stories that are fun and engaging? What do you prefer to read?