Monthly Archives: March 2014

Quality Control–Who’s doing it? How much? Does it matter?

Updated on March 7, 2014 by Elena Greene

I’m nearly done revising Lord Langdon’s Kiss (my first book, published in 2000). I’ve tweaked backstory and motivations and cut about 13,000 words. The cutting has been very easy; fifteen years have softened any attachment I had to that old prose. I’d say I had no ego involved at this point, but I’d be lying, because I have been mulling the thought of buying up all the copies still available in used bookstores and burning them!

I wish someone had told me to tighten this book, but I suspect the acquiring editor’s workload did not allow much time to work on books (like traditional Regencies) that did not receive large advances. Once a manuscript was deemed good enough to acquire in the first place, it seemed to be a case of “candidate passes.”

And since that phrase bubbled up from memories of The Court Jester with Danny Kaye, here’s the relevant clip. Just in case anyone could use a laugh.

Only one of my traditionally published books received any editorial feedback, and that was from a young editor who was probably more energetic and conscientious than most. (I would have enjoyed working with her again, but Signet ended the Regency line soon after that book.) My increasingly experienced group of critique partners has done more to improve my work than any editor.

So I laugh when I hear arguments that traditional publishing is always better than self publishing, because of the editing. I personally see pros and cons in both models. (Courtney Milan wrote an excellent post on this topic: Traditional versus Self Publishing—Official Death Match 2014.) However, my experience (which is not unique) is that working with a large New York city based publisher is still no guarantee of scrupulous editing, unless perhaps a very high advance is involved.

Even their proofreading is suspect. For instance, I recently read a traditionally published novella that had 3 grammatical and/or typographical errors. In a full length book, that would have been 10 or more errors, way over my personal threshold for professional work, which is 1 or 2. This is the first time I’ve seen anything so error-dense from traditional publishing, so I don’t know if the quality of proofreading has declined in general. I’ve heard readers complain about it, though.

There’s a huge variation in quality in self-published work as well. An indie book I read recently had the same endless internal dialogue issues as Lord Langdon’s Kiss. There was a lot I liked about the book, so I wish someone had advised the author to tighten the pacing.

A lot of indie authors do use various forms of quality control. I’ve been using a combination of beta readers and critique partners, several of whom are traditionally published authors. It’s a challenge to process feedback from as many as 5-8 different people, but I find it worthwhile. Other authors I know have hired anything from developmental editors to proofreaders, free lancers who have often worked (or still work) for large publishers. So a lot of indie books are as polished as any others, and sometimes more creative because they tackle themes and settings and other elements that may not have been thought marketable.

I’ve also heard there are self published books that are selling well despite poor editing, grammar, typographical errors, etc…. I haven’t read any myself, but it is said that a lot of readers don’t care about those things, as long as the story grabs them. That may be true. I’ve definitely observed the same about historical accuracy.

What do you think? Has the quality of editing changed over the years? How much does it matter to you as a reader?

Elena
www.elenagreene.com

Posted in Reading, Writing | Tagged Editing, proofreading | 15 Replies

Who’s in charge?

Updated on March 5, 2014 by Janet Mullany

Have you read Jo Baker’s brilliant Longbourn? It’s the book that switches upstairs/downstairs in Pride & Prejudice so we get the story from the servants’ point of view. Because the servants are always there, and reading that book for me has now changed the way I read Austen.

I’m giving a version of my talk on servants for JASNA in Minneapolis this weekend and so I’ve been sprucing up my material and wondering whether or not to include the strange, wonderful, (slightly icky) story of Hannah Cullwick (1833-1909) and her master, Arthur Munby (1828-1910). Hannah wrote a diary, published in 1984 by Virago Press, UK (now out of print) that gives an extraordinarily detailed account of the everyday life of a Victorian servant.

But it’s more than that.

Hannah wrote the diary at the instigation of her lover-employer-husband Arthur Mumby, who had a fetish for working class women and dirt, specifically women getting dirty. So a passage like this would get Arthur all hot and bothered:

Lighted the fire. Brush’d the grates. Clean’d the hall & steps & flags on my knees. Swept & dusted the rooms. Got breakfast up. Made the beds & emptied the slops. Cleaned & wash’d up…Cleaned the stairs & the pantry on my knees. Clean’d the knives & got dinner. Clean’d 3 pairs of boots. Clean’d away after dinner & began the preserving about ½ past 3 & kept on till 11, leaving off only to get the supper & have my tea…Went to bed very tired & dirty.

Boots, by the way, figure rather largely in their relationship.

Hannah took great pride in her strength and endurance, choosing always to remain at the bottom of the Victorian servant food chain, as a maid of all work. A lawyer and amateur artist, poet, and anthropologist, Munby had a huge collection of photographs and other records of working women that he bequeathed to Trinity College Cambridge.

Hannah met Munby in 1854 and he followed her around from one position to another, watching her beat carpets and so on, and she was fired from at least one household because of his interest in her–this was a period, of course, when women servants were not allowed to have gentleman followers. Working at boarding houses rather than private houses gave her greater freedom. Eventually he hired her in 1872 and they married secretly the following year. But to all intents and purposes she was still his servant, and Munby’s friends–who included Ruskin, Rosetti, and Browning–had no idea of the true relationship, one that seems to have been classic BDSM.

For freedom & true lowliness, there’s nothing like being a maid of all work (1872)

She wore a locking chain around her neck, for which Munby had the key, and a leather strap on one wrist as a sign of his ownership. Munby posed her in various disguises–as a man, a chimney sweep, in blackface, as a fashionable lady.

But she had an extraordinarily strong sense of independence outside their fantasy life. She insisted, even after marriage, on receiving wages and keeping her own name, and she left him in 1877, although he continued to visit her, but presumably on her terms. You have to wonder who did wear the trousers in this relationship.

And that’s the question that seems to have plagued households, particularly during the Victorian period, when master-servant relationships seem to have escalated to an extraordinarily virulent level: who really is in charge here?

So at the moment, yes to Longbourn, and yes to Cullwick-Munby, and let’s see if anyone picks up on the subtext. And I expect they will, because smart readers of Austen always find the subtext.

Posted in Jane Austen, Research | Tagged servants | 2 Replies

Sally MacKenzie’s Loving Lord Ash

Updated on March 3, 2014 by diane

Diane here.

Today my friend, Sally MacKenzie returns to Risky Regencies to talk about her latest, Loving Lord Ash, the third book in her Duchess of Love series.

See what reviewers are saying about Loving Lord Ash:

“Readers will love being treated to this lively, hilarious Regency romp in MacKenzie’s Duchess of Love series and will want all three books.” —Booklist

“MacKenzie entices her readers into a funny, romantic tale with her protagonists at cross purposes, sizzling sensuality, a touch of poignancy and a surprise twist. This all adds up to a delightful read.” —RT Book Reviews

Sally will generously give away a signed copy of Loving Lord Ash to one lucky commenter chosen at random.

Welcome, Sally!

Tell us about Loving Lord Ash

Here’s the back cover copy:

A Little Misunderstanding…

Kit, the Marquis of Ashton, is in a sticky wicket. He married young and for love—how naïve. He discovered his mistake the very day of his wedding, but he is saddled now with a wife he’s reluctant to trust. And however much evidence he gathers against faithless Jess, he can’t seem to prove her guilt to the final judge—his foolish heart.

Jess knows she’s bobbled her marriage, however innocently. A fairytale wedding makes no difference if she hasn’t got the marquis charmed to show for it. Well, she’s had enough of accidental encounters with naked gentlemen and near misses explaining things to her husband. It’s time to buck up and go win her man back—even if she has to fight very dirty indeed.

***

I’m excited to say that Booklist gave Ash a starred review! And Eloisa James included Loving Lord Ash in her Romance Reviews column on March 3, “SF (Not) Seeking M.” You can find it here: http://bnreview.barnesandnoble.com/t5/Reading-Romance/SF-Not-Seeking-M/ba-p/12449

How does Loving Lord Ash fit into your Duchess of Love series?

Ash’s book is the last in the series and is about the oldest son—the heir to the duchy. Readers met Ash in the first book, Bedding Lord Ned, where they learned that he and his wife, Jess, have been estranged for years. He appears again in the opening pages of Surprising Lord Jack, but then he leaves to finally settle the question of his marriage. He’s just turned thirty; he needs to see to the succession.

A smart writer would have figured out why Ash and Jess were estranged before beginning the series. Apparently, I am not a smart writer. Or let’s just say I appear to be a confirmed “pantser.” I don’t plan in detail before I begin writing—no outlines for me! Instead, I trust my characters to show me the way. Sadly, Ash was rather uncooperative; he didn’t want to give up his secrets. He and I had to have a long talk about why he and his wife were separated before I could begin his story.

Did you come across any interesting research when writing Loving Lord Ash?

Yes! I wanted Jess to have a large dog. For a while I considered a wolfhound, but decided I liked a Newfoundland better. But were there Newfoundlands during the Regency? I’m delighted to say there were. Though they probably didn’t look exactly like modern Newfies, which is why I never come right out and say Fluff is a Newfoundland. He’s just a very large, black dog. BUT—Lord Byron had a Newfie! More than one Newfie, actually, as well as a number of other pets including a bear and a badger.

Byron’s most famous Newfie was Boatswain who died of rabies and with whom Byron wished to be buried. (Didn’t happen.) Bryon buried Boatswain at Newstead Abbey and erected a monument over the tomb on which he inscribed his “Epitaph to a Dog.” This site has a lot of fun information, though the poem quoted seems to be the opening lines that were actually written by Bryon’s friend, John Hobhouse: http://www.londondogforum.co.uk/lord-byrons-dog-boatswain-c753.html

What is risky about Loving Lord Ash?

Hmm. I’m not sure there’s anything terribly risky about Ash—or at least, not if you’re a “Naked reader” and used to my humor. This book has a group of gay characters, but that doesn’t really strike me as risky, though it might seem unusual to some readers. And I should say that they are secondary characters—I don’t focus on their love lives, though I know there’s a subgenre in romance today that does.

What’s risky—or I guess tricky might be a better word—to me about the entire Duchess of Love series is the way the books are closely linked. My Naked books were connected, too, but in a more haphazard way. When I planned—I suppose I should put quotation marks around that word—the Duchess of Love books, I decided they would all follow after the other in a comparatively short time frame. So Surprising Lord Jack picks up right where Bedding Lord Ned ends. Loving Lord Ash is a little more complicated. Ash appears in the beginning of Jack’s book, but then he leaves to go to Blackweith Manor and confront Jess. So the beginning of Loving Lord Ash takes place during Jack’s book. The reader doesn’t see this, but I needed to keep it in mind so the timing of Ash’s book would work out. Roughly halfway through Loving Lord Ash, Ash and Jess arrive in London—just shortly after Jack’s book ends.

I’ve heard you’ve just become a grandmother. Are you excited?

Can’t you see me jumping up and down? My eldest and his wife had twins—a boy and a girl—at the beginning of February. The babies are SO cute. And, no, I’m not at all prejudiced.

There’s actually a link between grandmotherhood and the Duchess of Love stories. I started writing the series back in 2009 or 2010. At that time, my oldest son was married. Now two of the four have wives. And after wives come…well, for me, thoughts of maybe someday grandchildren. And things that I’m thinking about sometimes find their way into my characters’ heads. So Venus, the Duchess of Love, has been longing for her sons to have children first because she wants them to experience all the emotions fathers feel for their children—and, of course, Ash needs a son to secure the succession—but then, yes, because she’d like to be a grandmother. And you’ll see when you read Loving Lord Ash, she gets her wish.

But books are written long before they arrive in bookstores. It wasn’t until after I’d finished Loving Lord Ash and handed it in, that my son and daughter-in-law told me they were expecting. (And you should have heard son’s voice when he called to tell us they’d heard TWO heartbeats. He was quite, um, surprised, lol!)

What is next for you?

I’ve just agreed to write a new series for Kensington. It’s very early days, so I can’t say too much about it yet. Right now, I’m calling it the Spinster House series and setting it in Loves Bridge, an imaginary village. It turns out our September trip to England was very inspiring!

By the way, you might have noticed that the dog on the cover of Loving Lord Ash is not a Newfie. Apparently the art department felt that a large dog would take over the cover–and they were probably right. I like to think this dog is Shakespeare, who was the main dog in Surprising Lord Jack and who does appear in Loving Lord Ash. So here’s my question: Are you a big dog or a small dog sort of person? Or are you a cat, ferret, fish, or lizard person? Tell us a funny pet story!

Diane here, again. Remember, one lucky commenter will win a signed copy of Loving Lord Ash. I’ll pick the winner by midnight Monday night.

Posted in Giveaways, Guest, Interviews | 35 Replies

The Corcoran

Updated on March 3, 2014 by diane

Last week my good friend Victoria Hinshaw (Of Number One London) was in town and together we visited the Corcoran Gallery of Art.

The Corcoran was founded in 1869 by William Wilson Corcoran. In 1897 it moved to its present location, a beautiful building designed in the Beaux-Arts style by Ernest Flagg.

It has these wonderful bronze lions in front. The lions were purchased in 1888 from the estate of Bill Holliday, the founder of the Pony Express. They are copies of originals of Antonio Canova.

The gallery had many noteworthy pieces of American Art, but they also had examples from English artists.

A Gainsborough

A Reynolds

A Raeburn

There was also a beautiful room – The Salon Doré, an 18th century French room that was originally part of the home of the Count d’Orsay and his wife, Princess de Croÿ-Molenbais. The Princess died in childbirth and the Count fled to Germany before the French Revolution and died in poverty.
The room was donated to the Corcoran in 1926.

The Corcoran will no longer exist as a privately endowed museum and art school. Because of financial problems, its art school and building will be taken over by GW University and its art will become part of the National Gallery of Art. I feel like I made my visit just in time!

How’s the weather your way? We’ve got snow AGAIN. In Virginia. In March. Unheard-of.

This Sunday my pal Sally MacKenzie returns for an interview and giveaway of Loving Lord Ash.

Posted in Anything but writing, History, Regency | 5 Replies

Eye Jewelry

Updated on March 1, 2014 by Myretta

Mrs. Fitzherbert’s Eye Miniature by Richard Cosway

The first eye miniatures were said to have been painted by the celebrated miniaturist Richard Cosway who, in 1786, was commissioned by the Prince of Wales (later George IV) to paint the eye of his morganatic wife, Mrs Fitzherbert. However his claim to being the first is now disputed.

The book, Perfect Likeness: European and American Portrait miniatures from the Cincinnati Art Museum, gives us this history of the Eye miniature:

Not only was the eye traditionally regarded as the “window of the soul” but in a more romantic vein, love was said to enter through the eyes, which first caressed and then possessed the object of desire.

While many eye miniatures were undoubtedly intended as love tokens others … were meant as memorials, as indicated by a black enamel border and a commemorative inscription to the back of the piece.

The black border indicates that this is mourning jewelry

Engleheart’s book records several such commissions including a 1783 painting of “Mrs Quarrington, her eye” which would refute the claim that Cosway’s of Mrs Fitzherbert was the first of the genre.

Most eye miniatures are unsigned, making attribution of these diminutive and intriguing works difficult if not impossible.

George IV was buried wearing Mrs. Fitzherbert’s eye miniature-a fact verified by the Duke of Wellington who took a peek.

I’m particularly enamored of the fob pictured here that has (I think) five eye miniatures attached. Who shall we imagine wore this? A doting father? A much-widowed aristocrat? A gentleman with an active love life? What a story this would make.

For a quick look, here’s a YouTube video from The Georgia Museum of Modern Art and the University of Georgia for the exhibition “The Look of Love: Eye Miniatures from the Skier Collection,” organized by the Birmingham Museum of Art.

Posted in Regency, Research | 5 Replies