When one of my new Facebook friends happened to mention that she was a writer, too, I was naturally curious.  Much to my delight, she said she was working on a novel about Nell Gwynn, the most famous and most appealing of Charles II’s mistresses.   Charles has always been my favorite non-medieval king and what little I knew of Nell was all to the good, so I asked Priya if I could have an ARC (advance reading copy) of Exit the Actress.    All I can say is that Priya’s writing career is off to a roaring start!  I loved this book.   Nell is a wonderful character and Priya manages to capture Charles in all his charming complexity.  Her Restoration England is so vividly drawn that I truly felt as if I were an invisible eye-witness to one of the most interesting eras in English history.    Exit The Actress was published this week and is already attracting attention–just as Nell herself did.    So….may I present Priya Parmar and Nell Gwynn.

INTERVIEW WITH SHARON KAY PENMAN

SKP: How did you happen to choose to write about Nell Gwyn and the Restoration period? 

PP: I really fell in love with Nell Gwyn and moved to Restoration London because it was her period but once I got there I was fascinated by the setting.  It is an extraordinary period of shift and innovation.  Charles II returned to England and rather than seeking to punish the country that revolted against and ultimately killed his father, he did everything he could to foster peace and unification and tolerance.  Of course he also dug up the long dead Oliver Cromwell, the man personally responsible for murdering his father and held an execution for his dead body in Hyde Park.

            It was an exciting time to be in London.  Charles II brought ideas and clothes and customs and architecture from continental Europe and set about building a new and wonderful country.  Unfortunately he had plague and fire and raging prejudice to deal with but he handled it all brilliantly.  He invited women to perform on the stage for the first time, founded the Royal Society and he and his gardener, John Rose, grew the first pineapple in England.  He was a thrilling king and his rowdy circle of libertine friends were wild and extreme but all gifted, brilliant people.  And Nell was at the center of it all.

SKP:  This book is not written in a straight narrative style but rather a collection of documents, diaries and letters of the period.  How did you come to write the novel in this format?

PP: The style just sort of presented itself and refused to budge.  I tried to coax it into narrative prose but it was so stubborn.  I think because I had been studying primary documents for so long, first as an undergraduate and then during my doctorate, that I just became fascinated  by stories in their elemental forms; before all the strands of ribbon get woven into a single braid.

            I first met Ellen Gwyn when I was researching my Ph.D.  I read: her bills for shoes and lace and clothes and a bill for a fantastic silver boat shaped bed and her will as well as all the diaries of the period.  A complicated, contradictory, whimsical, genuine, talented, compassionate, layered woman emerged from those bits of paper.  All the contradictions can coexist happily at that level and a real person steps forward.  She can be a woman who leaves huge amounts of money to charity in her will, scolds her son for spending too much money on hats and then goes hopelessly into debt over a Venetian mirror.   

SKP: It is interesting that as a reader, we get accustomed to the writing style immediately and forget it is even there.

PP: Oh good.  I wanted it to feel really natural and not intrusive.  I wanted it to be a fall down a rabbit hole sort of reading experience but I had no idea if it would work or not.  It was a huge gamble!

SKP: And you never second guessed it?

PP: Actually, the first agent I sent it to said she loved the writing and the story and wanted to take it on if maybe I would change the format.  It was the scariest thing I ever did to say no! 

SKP: I am always interested in what parts of characterization or plot an author chooses to fictionalize and what to keep purely factually based.  How closely did you stick to the history?

PP: I kept to the history as much as possible.  Even the bits that seem far fetched are often rooted in fact.  John Wilmot actually did have a servant called Alcock and Charles had a spaniel called Dot.  Even Ellen’s shoes are actually based on her surviving shoe orders!  I really enjoyed tracking down the obscure stuff like the names of the footmen who carried her sedan chair and exactly what the remedy for a cold was circa 1665.  I like when all the small details are right but at some points friends got tired of my beginning conversations with “Did you know that in 1660, ground fox lung was thought to cure a fever?”

            I did have a section from the plague year that listed the people who died near Ellen’s home.  It did not make it into the final book but it was so interesting and heartbreaking to research.  All these people, young women especially, of just her age died; mostly because they were often ones who stayed to nurse their families.  Ellen must have known some of them.

            The most glaring bit of history I chose to dispute was the idea that Ellen was illiterate.  I just didn’t see how it would be possible for her to keep the company she kept and be unable to read.  Also she often had three plays to memorize in a week!

SKP:  Your Nell Gwyn cuts a very different figure from the bawdy, cockney, flirtatious Nell Gwyn we normally meet in popular culture.  You have Oxford rather than London as her birthplace and she is called “Ellen” in your book.  Was that her name?

PP:  No one is sure where she was born.  There are strong cases for Hereford, London and Oxford.  I chose Oxford as it seemed the most likely given her Grandfather’s association with Christ Church and her father’s military history.  There is no evidence that she had a cockney accent at all.  Her looks, dancing, acting and singing were all widely commented upon during her life.  It was said she had terrific feet and a lovely voice but no one ever mentioned a London accent.  Home county accents were very popular at the time, so it was possible she had what was a trendy Oxfordshire lilt. 

            She only signed her name to a few documents and when she did, she used the initials “E.G.” and then her dear friend Aphra Behn dedicated her play to “Ellen Guin” so I decided that Ellen must have been the name she used in her personal life.  As for being flirtatious, she most likely was, but more than anything, she was a woman ruled by loyalty.  After Charles II died, she never took another lover.  I really love that about her.

SKP: First lines always intrigue me because so much hangs on them.  How did you find your first line?

PP: The first line of the Prologue arrived very early and never changed.  It is a moment about collecting yourself and leaping forward, which is exactly what I was doing in writing the book, and so I just wrote the moment I was living.  The first line of the diary was much trickier and kept changing.  I was giving it too much weight and it would not settle.  Finally it told me to go away and just let it be and so I did.

SKP: It sounds like you began at the beginning and wrote straight through.  Did you?

PP: Surprisingly, I did.  I would go back and constantly revise, but I never wrote a scene I had not reached yet.  I am sure it would have saved time if I had but I sort of had to live the book with Ellen and think through what was happening to her as  it was happening in the story.  She sort of moved in and would tell me all about what was going on with her eccentric family and her day at the theatre and her love life.  It felt like having your best friend over for coffee every morning.  I couldn’t write ahead because I could not see that far.  It hadn’t happened yet.

SKP: Do you have a writing routine or any rules for yourself that you follow?

PP: I turn on the computer at the same time every day and only let myself write four pages—however long that takes me.  And then, even if it is going really well, I stop and go off and research.  It is terrible when it falls in the midst of an exciting scene but I know if I leave it alone, I will have something fun to come back to tomorrow…

SKP: And are you working on a new book now?

PP: Yes.  My second book is looking for a title at the moment but is set just before and during WWI.  It is extraordinary to be writing about the last moments during the twentieth century when a world war was unimaginable.  They thought it would be over by Christmas. 

      Thank you, Priya.  I think this was one of my best blog interviews.  Nell has been waiting a long time for someone to tell her story. 

February 4, 2011

HISTORY VS FICTION

     A number of years ago, I attended a writer’s conference in the Midwest, where I was asked to give a speech about writing as a craft.  I said that my aim as a novelist was “to entertain and to inform.”    Later in the program, another writer surprised me by quoting what I’d said, and then declared that her aim was “to heal.”   That seemed overly ambitious to me and so I’ve stayed with my objectives—to make the MA come alive to readers in a way that makes them want to keep turning the pages.  

      As those of you who’ve read past blogs or my Facebook posts know, I am somewhat (okay, very) obsessive-compulsive about historical accuracy.  Obviously a historical novel must draw upon the writer’s imagination, but I always attempt to build a sturdy factual foundation for each book, and if I have to take dramatic license or historical liberties with known fact, I try to play fair and alert my readers to this in the AN.    The real challenge comes in depicting a way of thinking that is often alien to ours today.   I can think of at least five topics in which medieval and modern views have little in common: the concept of religious tolerance, anti-Semitism, the conduct of war, the status of women, and the treatment of animals.  I thought (hope) it might be interesting to discuss how a historical novelist approaches these controversial issues. 

      Anti-Semitism is the ugly underside of medieval life.  In Falls The Shadow, I addressed this, making no excuses, but seeking to root it in the context of the 13^th century.  Anti-Semitism exists to this day; the difference is that in the MA, the Church gave official sanction to it.   My Christian characters were taught from birth to view Jews with suspicion and hostility.  In Falls The Shadow, Simon de Montfort tells Rabbi Jacob that “I was taught that over every Jew, God holds His breath, waiting to see if he will decide for Christ.  How can you give Our Lord such grief?  How can you reject salvation?   It took courage for you to come here.  Yours is a soul worth saving.  Why will you not admit that Christ is the Messiah?  Do you not fear damnation?”    In this passage, I distilled the essence of the medieval view of Judaism.  Rabbi Jacob then reminds Simon of his time on crusade and asks if Simon would have abjured his Christian faith had he been captured by the Saracens.  Simon says he’d have chosen death, and Jacob says softly and sadly, “Just so, my lord.”     The chasm between the two men is too vast to bridge.

      I try to stay true to the tenor of the times, so virtually all of my characters are infected to some degree.  When I needed a character to voice doubts, I had to choose an outsider to make it believable, a character who was a natural rebel and therefore more likely to question even the teachings of the Church—Llywelyn Fawr’s strong-willed daughter, Elen.   In When Christ and His Saints Slept, Ranulf is ambushed and almost killed by bandits, rescued by two young peddlers.  He is naturally very grateful to them, but when he learns that they are Jews, his first reaction is an involuntary recoil, for they are aliens and infidels. “For an unnerving moment, Ranulf felt an instinctive unease.  But then common sense reasserted itself. These men had saved his life.  They had chased after his horse, bandaged his wound, even buried his dog.  What more proof did he demand of their goodwill?”   Because Ranulf is an intelligent, decent man, he is able to recognize that his suspicions make no sense under the circumstances, and he and the brothers, Aaron and Josce, are able to forge a tentative, temporary bond.  

       Religious tolerance was as rare in the MA as the unicorn.   All men—be they Christian, Jew, or Muslim—were convinced that theirs was the True Faith.  In Lionheart, the crusaders and Saracens each refer to the others as “infidels.”    They can respect one another’s courage, but neither side doubts that damnation awaits their foes.   So I have to take care in my novels to acknowledge this bedrock belief, so alien to most of us today.  And to show that they could be less forgiving of sinners than we are.  I recently interviewed a writer friend, Margaret Frazer, on this blog, and I said that she is even more obsessive-compulsive than I am about historical accuracy.   In her medieval mystery, The Apostate’s Tale, Sister Frevisse is confronted with a ghost from their abbey’s past, a nun who’d run away and taken a lover.  I was sympathetic to this woman, who’d been compelled to take holy vows, who’d never wanted to be a nun.   Sister Frevisse was not.  Margaret did not take the easy way, did not have Sister Frevisse embrace the erring sister as many another novelist would have done.   To a nun of the 15^th century, there would be no greater sin than apostacy, for it was a rejection of God, and Margaret was true to that in Frevisse’s uncompromising, medieval judgment.   Had this been my story, I hope I would have been as honest and as brave.    

      We also have difficulty comprehending the medieval attitude toward war.  They glorified it in a way that we no longer do.   It is impossible to understand Richard I without taking this into consideration.  Some modern historians have found fault with him for the very actions that his subjects most admired.  War was a medieval king’s vocation and at that, Richard excelled.   Ours is a time in which we sincerely decry attacks upon noncombatants, although the body count continues to mount in much of the world. During the MA, the Church attempted to shield noncombatants, too—women, children, priests, pilgrims, etc.   But the nature of medieval warfare—laying waste the lands of one’s enemies—all but guaranteed there would be civilian casualties.   And kings, knights, and soldiers accepted this as inevitable.  Some of my characters might regret the burning of a village and its crops, but they would still do it, for that was how their wars were waged.  There was a strain of pacifism in the MA; there were even a few to criticize the crusades.  But we’re talking of a small minority and their views never wielded any influence.   This was an age, after all, in which even bishops rode out into battle, wielding swords instead of crosiers, and no one saw anything odd about this.  (The oft-repeated legend that warring clerics always used maces instead of swords so as to avoid the Church stricture against spilling blood is just that, a legend.)  So to be true to the times, I cannot have my characters reacting to the destruction of a town or the raping of its women as if it were a war crime, the way we would characterize it today.  I do try to take our modern sensibilities into account by not dwelling needlessly upon the atrocities of war, but further than that, I cannot go. 

     Fortunately my readers seem willing to judge my characters by medieval standards rather than ours.   I say “fortunately” because almost every medieval monarch could be painted as a homicidal maniac if we held them accountable to 21^st century standards, and that includes those who enjoy a reputation for mercy and chivalry such as Salah al-Din, better known to us as Saladin.   Even Henry II, who shared none of his son Richard’s zest for battle, ordered the blinding of a number of Welsh hostages without hesitation; moreover, he saw it as a merciful act, since he was sparing their lives. 

    There is obviously a huge gap between the status of medieval women and women today, at least in the industrialized countries.   This can present problems for some readers, those who want their female characters to be strong, to speak up for themselves, to have a measure of control over their own fate.  I am not saying there were not strong women in the MA; there certainly were.   But the restrictions placed upon them by society and the Church severely limited their choices; biology truly was destiny if you were born a woman in medieval times.  There is a scene in Lionheart in which Berengaria’s brother Sancho is contemplating her future as England’s queen.   “He could see that his father took comfort from his certainty, and he was glad of it.  It was not as if he’d lied, after all.  Why would Berenguela and Richard not find contentment together?   The ideal wife was one who was chaste, obedient, and loyal.  Berenguela would come to her marriage bed a virgin and would never commit the sin of adultery.  She believed it was a wife’s duty to be guided by her husband.  And she would be loyal to Richard until her last mortal breath—whether he deserved it or not.” 

      Yes, there were those rare rebels like Eleanor of Aquitaine and the Empress Maude, but they paid a great price for their independent spirits.  It is obvious that both Eleanor and Maude chaffed under their matrimonial bonds, wanting more freedom than their world was willing to allow.  But there is no evidence that they viewed themselves as part of an oppressed sisterhood; they wanted power and autonomy for themselves, not for all members of their sex.   So it would be unrealistic if I were to write of a female character resentful of male dominance, one eager to prove herself as capable as any man.

      It would be even more unrealistic if I had a female character determined to marry “for love.”   Berengaria’s brother Sancho hopes that she finds “contentment” in her marriage.     There were some marriages, of course, that held passion and/or love. By all accounts, Berengaria’s own parents had a loving relationship, and there was certainly passion aplenty in Henry and Eleanor’s union.  But in the MA, marriage was a legal union, recognized by the Church and Crown as a means of getting children and transferring property in an orderly fashion from one generation to the next.  Love was not a component of marriage then, especially marriages among royalty and the highborn, and there were no expectations of finding soul mates, not in the 12^th century.

      Medieval and modern views are even more divergent when it comes to the treatment of animals.  The concept of “animal rights” could not be more alien to them.  People did have pets, at least those who could afford such a luxury.   There is evidence of loved dogs and cherished horses and valued falcons.  While cats were not normally kept as pets, some apparently infiltrated nunneries and the hearts of their inhabitants, for nuns were occasionally scolded for doting on cats and small dogs.   And there was even that occasional free spirit who truly empathized with all of God’s creatures.  It will likely come as a surprise to learn that the notorious French queen, Catherine de Medici, was one of them; see C. W. Gortner’s The Confessions of Catherine de Medici.  

         But—and it is hard for me as an animal-lover to admit this—she was definitely an anomaly.  When daily life is so hard, few can spare sympathy for hungry dogs.  This is especially true in a world in which people believe that God has given them dominion over the earth and all in it.  So when one of my characters is moved by the plight of a suffering animal, he often is vaguely embarrassed by his Good Samaritan inclinations.  When Justin de Quincy rescues a drowning dog in The Queen’s Man, he does it after he “casts common sense to the winds,” and he is motivated in some measure by the tearful entreaties of a small child.  The life of a horse was worth a great deal and the life of a pet dog might have mattered to its owner.  But the lives of animals in general had no intrinsic value and my characters cannot display the same outrage in the face of cruelty that we would.  I do cheat a bit; I’ve never dramatized a bear-baiting scene because I know my readers would find it as unpleasant to read as I would to write it!

         Now it is your turn.  Is it difficult for you to do what I am asking of you—to judge my characters by the standards of their time and not ours?   I know that my “hard-core” readers feel as strongly as I do about historical accuracy, so I am guessing that most of you always make that effort, right?   I wonder, though, if the casual reader does?   Would someone unfamiliar with the MA be repulsed by the description of a medieval execution, with its throngs of avid spectators and its raucous fair-like atmosphere?  Shocked that Henry and Eleanor married their daughters off before they reached puberty?  How far do you think historical novelists should go to make their books palatable to modern readers?  Is it necessary to make the characters in a novel about the anti-Bellum South all secret abolitionists at heart in order to win reader sympathy?   What of a family living in Nazi Germany?    Compared to challenges like that, I have it easy, don’t I?

January 14, 2011

Melusine was up to her old tricks this morning and when I hit the publish button for the new post with the tour itinerary, dates, costs, etc, she took it upon herself to add lots of white space between my opening message and the tour information.  Clearly she has moved over to the dark side full-time.  Anyway, I wanted to assure you all that I did not forget to include the itinerary.  It is indeed there; you simply have to scroll down to find it.
January 4, 2011

     I have a special Christmas gift for my readers, an interview with Margaret Frazer, author of two outstanding medieval mystery series set in 15^th century England.  The Sister Frevisse mysteries feature a remarkable protagonist, a nun who is not at all saintly.  She does not suffer fools gladly, but she struggles constantly to subdue her pride, to adhere to the strict rules of her Order even as the tranquility of their nunnery is disrupted by the unwelcome intrusions of the real world—mayhem and murder.  Margaret’s second series showcases the talents of Joliffe, dashing player in a traveling troupe of actors and sometime spy for the powerful and dangerous Bishop of Winchester, one of the crafty Beaufort clan.  Joliffe appeared occasionally in Sister Frevisse’s books and readers found him so appealing that they urged Margaret to give Joliffe his own series.  Joliffe is a wonderful creation—clever, observant, and resourceful, with an ironic eye and a laid-back charm that I, for one, find quite irresistible.  

      In the interest of full disclosure, Margaret and I have been good friends for a number of years—as you’ll be able to tell by the tone of our exchanges.  But I was her fan before I became her friend.  She is serious about her craft, serious about her research, even more serious than me, and we all know I’m obsessive-compulsive!  The result is a form of literary time-travel. Readers never doubt for a moment that her characters are men and women of 15^th century England.  And because she is realistic in her approach to her plots (a.k.a ruthless), the suspense level is ratcheted up to alarming levels.  We never know if she is going to kill off a character we really like, (And yes, Margaret, I am still holding a grudge for The Servant’s Tale.) or reveal that character to be the killer.  Her newest book is A Play of Piety.  I was delighted when I learned it was coming out in December, seeing it as my reward for finishing Lionheart.  And now, let the interview begin. 

A PLAY OF PIETY is the sixth book in your medieval mystery series featuring Joliffe the Player, a traveling actor in England in the 1400s, but you also have seventeen other medieval mysteries centered on Dame Frevisse, a Benedictine nun, set in the same time period.  Do you ever get asked, “Don’t you get tired of writing the same book over and over again?”

I’ve indeed been asked that, more than once.  I suppose it’s a reasonable question, given all twenty-three books are mysteries and set in the same time period and general place and, yes, I suppose I would get bored writing the same book over and over again.  So I don’t write the same book over and over again. (Subtext: Do I look like a fool?)  With Frevisse, every story is told from two viewpoints: hers and that of the title character.  Since those title characters are drawn from all aspects of medieval English society – for instance from a reeve running a small village to an independent businesswoman in London to the bastard son of a royal duke – I get to look at medieval life from wide variety of viewpoints and levels.  I can’t get bored if I have to move into the minds of people as far apart as a crowner’s very humble clerk and a high-born bishop, an outlaw and a well-off widow of the gentry.  And for me, moving into the minds of people not me is what it’s all about.

The same goes for Joliffe’s books.  They’re only told from his viewpoint, which is extremely low in society and that of an outsider for good measure.  But he’s a man with a craft he enjoys – acting – and because his company of players travel and perform in a wide variety of places, he encounters all sorts of different societal situations.  And of course for him I’ve upped the ante as the series goes on by him taking service as a spy for someone powerful in the government, which serves to take him to France and into a high noble’s household in A PLAY OF TREACHERY at a very dangerous time in the Hundred Years War.  In A PLAY OF PIETY, by wide contrast, he’s working in a medieval hospital among very ordinary people.  For me, recreating such complex but widely divergent settings and the people to inhabit them is a sure way never to never be “writing the same book over and over again”.  It’s people who write the same clichés over and over again who risk getting bored.

From things I’ve heard you say other times, I know you have really deep seated issues with clichés in books about the Middle Ages.

Oh, yes.  I can get very verbal, shall we say, about the clichés used by writers.  So much of what we’re taught to think of as “medieval” – such as streets deep in filth and garbage hurled out of windows and nobody bathing (apparently from the Fall of Rome to the Renaissance)—actually date from Tudor times and later.  And then there are the old standbys of “medieval” life: plague every time you turn around; lawless (and usually lascivious) lords by the bushel-basket full; violence so endemic it’s a wonder anyone dared go out of doors; and women dying in childbirth.  Please – no more books wallowing in the Black Death!  Find a different theme, for pity’s sake! The Black Death has been done (dare I say it) to death.  I won’t even try to refute the notion that all through the late medieval England, year in and year out, violent lords and outlaw bands were romping at will up and down and around the countryside.  Violence happened and there are idiots in every society (for which mystery writers are thankful, of course), and the Wars of the Roses did make for outbreaks of ugliness in the latter half of the 1400s, but I deliberately have my two series set in some decades when English life was going along very nicely, thank you, in order to contrast the shock of a crime against the reasonable tenor of most people’s everyday lives.  A bit more challenging than going for the down and dirty and obvious, but I like the challenge

              The trouble is that so many novelists read general study books of “medieval life” and a simplistic biography or two and let it go at that. Additionally, even if they’ve read a little deeper, they still transpose their own sensibilities into the story and present a distorted view of the times and people.  This is the “Mary Jane Visits the Castle” syndrome.  Or “Cathy Meets the Cathars”.  Or “Brian Braves the Bad Baron”.  There are plenty of chronicles, government documents,literature, and letters (besides those of the obnoxious, overly ubiquitous Pastons) of the time available in print and online, and modern scholarly articles likewise that could help writers move into the medieval mindset, rather than turn their novels into fantasy costume pieces erroneously called “medieval”.

             As for the grotesqueries and stupidities perpetrated in movies – don’t get me started.

Hm.  Yes.  Don’t hold back.  Tell us how you really feel.  Cliches in books set in medieval times really bother you, then?

Really.  Of course an author is free to tell whatever story they want to tell, and that’s fine.  We all have every right to do that, and if an author and some readers are content with clichés, that’s fine for them.  If I don’t like a book, I don’t have to read it.  But I do object to books that claim to be set in medieval times that then make a farce of that claim by doing the most egregiously wrong things.  We all make mistakes, but some things are SO wrong as to reduce the book from historical fiction to what I call “medieval fantasy fiction”.  Worse, personally speaking, is that then a book that strives for greater accuracy of time and place is seen as “wrong” because it doesn’t match the clichés.  Ask me about the editor of a short story collection in which I had a story, who said in his introductory essay that of course my supposedly medieval detective was actually very modern.

All right.  What about the editor of short story collection who said in his introductory essay that your supposedly medieval detective was very modern?

I’m so glad you brought that up.  The detective in question is Reynold Pecock.  He’s an actual historical personage.  The short story was set at a time when he was master of a college of priests and an almshouse in London.  He later became a bishop, and appears in THE BASTARD’S TALE and my short stories “The Simple Logic of It” (presently available electronically from Amazon.com; this is an unpaid advertisement thereunto), “Heretical Murder” and “Lowly Death” (not yet available online).  As an actual churchman of the 1400s, Pecock had the idea that the best way to bring heretics back into the Church was to persuade them by reason to give up their heresy, and to that end he wrote a number of books in, gasp, English, laying out in step-by-step logic why heretics should change their minds.  Some of these books are extent and in print.  If you have an urge to read medieval theology in Middle English, you can.  I did (which explains a lot about me, including why I have so little social life: “ Hi. Want to discuss the theological and political ramifications in Bishop Pecock’s BOOK OF FAITH?”), and I found him a delightful,kindly, occasionally droll man, with a mind devoted to intense logic and perfectly suited to be a detective.  The methods he uses in the stories to untangle crimes is absolutely medieval.  But the editor did not think so, and so in the anthology where that particular story appears, my detective is labeled as anachronistic when he very much is not.       

            Along that same line is a reviewer of THE SQUIRE’S TALE who observed that it seemed the only way a woman could avoid dying in childbirth in the Middle Ages was to never get married.  This was a singularly gratuitous observation because, although there was a pregnant woman in the book, she did not die in childbirth.  But the cliché is so strong that readers apparently see it even when it isn’t there!

On another tack altogether, some of us find Joliffe a very attractive man.  Why doesn’t he have more romantic encounters in his books?

You mean what doesn’t he get more sex?

Yes.

How about: The publishers impose a contractual word-limit on each book, and I have to use so many words creating the time and place believably, there aren’t enough left for sexual encounters, too.

            – or –

Mostly the plots just haven’t had room for plays, politics, murders, detection, and sex, without bending the stories illogically out of shape, just to get Joliffe into bed with someone. 

            – or –

I’m selfish and keeping him for myself.

            – or –

He’s actually getting far more action than it appears, but it all happens between the novels.

I’ve suspected as much.  Tell us more about him.

You remember that Joliffe first appeared in the Frevisse series, back in THE SERVANT’S TALE, and later shows up in THE PRIORESS’ TALE and THE BASTARD’S TALE and then as the title character in THE TRAITOR’S TALE.  His first appearance was supposed to be a one-off but I like him so well that I brought him back in that second and third time but couldn’t interest my agent in trying to sell him in a series of his own.  “The Frevisse series is going well.  Don’t shoot yourself in the foot,” was the way I remember she put it.  So I wrote A PLAY OF ISAAC just to show I could do two series at once.  It sold and Joliffe was on his way.

 Now if you remember his last exchange with Frevisse at the end of TRAITOR’S, you know somewhere along the way true love comes into his life.  Exactly when and how and with whom – I’m not telling.

But that must mean that you know, doesn’t it?  That you have an idea of where the series is going in a long arc, rather than just winging it from book to book.

Yes.  And that’s all you’re getting out of me.  But you may be amused to know that, with Frevisse’s series, someone lately got their master’s degree in English with the thesis that the novels are effectively separate chapters of a single long, multi-volume novel, based on the fact that the main character grows and changes over the course of the series into a deeper and more complex being than at its beginning.  If you’d like to read it, the whole thesis can be accessed from my website (if the link is working properly; let me know if it’s misbehaving again).

But the books can be read individually, as stand-alones, too, can’t they?

Certainly.  I intended them that way and give away as little as possible about past books in later books.  Of course if someone is alive in Book 15, you can suppose they aren’t murdered in an earlier book, but aside from that, they can be read separately and out of order.  One of the best compliments I’ve had comes from people who’ve told me they read the series out of order and enjoyed it so much they went back and read it in order.  That Frevisse, like Joliffe, grows and changes as the series goes on is part of my not-being-bored with writing these books.   

Yet you’ve said you have no plans for more novels about Frevisse.

When I realized my publisher was letting my backlist die, indicating they were losing interest in the series, I decided to bring the story to the end I wanted, rather than leave it to the publisher to chop it at some random point.  That said, I’m working on a brand-new Frevisse short story to put up for e-sale on Amazon.com fairly soon.  And work is afoot to make some of the long out-of-print books available there for Kindle, hopefully one at least before this year is out.  THE BISHOP’S TALE, as things stand now.

That’s good news, anyway.  What about Joliffe?

I’m just finishing A PLAY OF HERESY.  That’s the second book on my current two-book contract.  What the publisher decides then is up to the publisher and whatever arcane formulas the bean-counters come up with to determine life or death for midlist authors.  I will be the last to know.  Given how well e-books seem to be selling – and the fact that I have a son who understands how to turn books and stories into e-versions – that may be where I end up, writing and marketing my own work exclusively online. 

            Hey!  Maybe, with no limit on word-count, Joliffe could end up having more romantic encounters!

     That would work well for me.  As you know from my constant nagging, I’m very much in favor of Joliffe’s having more “romantic encounters.”   Thank you, Margaret, for stopping by.  On your next visit, maybe you can tell us about your intention to put aside your medieval mysteries temporarily to write a novel about Elizabeth of York.   

December 18, 2010 

     Now that Lionheart has been dispatched (via e-mail yet; ah, brave new world) to my editor, I am able to rejoin the world again and I am delighted to be able to share an interview with one of my favorite mystery writers, Priscilla Royal.  In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that Priscilla is a friend, but I became a fan before we met at the Poisoned Pen in Scottsdale.  I was struck by how well she seemed to understand the medieval mind; her characters are always firmly rooted in the 13th century, very much men and women of their times.  They are also sympathetic, yet very human; much of the action may revolve around an abbey, but there are no saints there!   Valley of Dry Bones is her seventh entry in the Eleanor-Thomas mysteries, and it kept me up into the early hours of the morning.  High suspense and a strong medieval ambience–who could ask for more?   But now I’ll let Priscilla speak for herself.

What attracted you to medieval history?

My fascination probably began during my childhood in Canada, but chance has encouraged it. A high school teacher gave me a paperback copy of The Canterbury Tales because I liked Chaucer. At San Francisco State University, I accidentally signed up for a class taught by John Gardner, a controversial medieval scholar but one who vividly brought to life both the times and the literature. I became quite hooked. Much damage has been done to our understanding of medieval life, especially by the Victorians who viewed the era as either terribly romantic or awfully barbaric. To my mind, the Middle Ages are complex and rich, yet subtle, without the flashing opulence of the Renaissance. In any case, the medieval era is not just the commonly assumed centuries of lock-step religion, primitive art, suppression of women, appalling ignorance, superstition, and filth. All eras possess unspeakable brutality, as well as enlightenment, a pattern that has varied little throughout history. In the 12^th century, there was creative intellectual debate while the 14^th was a cruel time for the thoughtful dissenter. But in modern times, Stalin came after the progressive Alexander II, and the McCarthy years were followed by improved civil rights in the 1960s. History teaches that enlightenment and compassion are not modern inventions and that we must never assume they will be permanent features in any society.

What author first inspired you to write medieval mysteries?

Ellis Peters, the consummate storyteller who respected research while integrating it so well the flow of the mystery was never hampered. In Brother Cadfael, she created the perfect sleuth: the outsider who could see what others, blinded by familiarity and assumptions, missed. Since her detective lived in an anarchic era, he could explore the meaning of justice in any given situation because there was no rule of law. Although no reasonable person wants vigilantism, we also recognize that laws can be unjust or badly interpreted. Defining justice is always interesting to the mystery reader because we want a fair resolution of a crime within the spirit of law. As far as Ellis Peters’ influence on my work, I only hope that I have learned enough from her to create entertaining variations.

Did you intend to write a series? If so, why?

I love series so planned a long one. One favorite author early on was Anthony Trollope, a writer who created an entire county and demonstrated that a series could remain vital as long as it was carefully paced and there were enough interesting characters for variety. As a reader, I love settling in with a world and its inhabitants, watching the evolution of both, and eagerly awaiting the next book. How will the author entertain, surprise, and inform me next? As a writer, I discovered the joy of slow character development, balancing humor and tension, as well as craft experimentation so the books do not become boring. And with historicals, I could add the fun of research and learning more about my chosen era. A series is like a marriage. To be successful, it needs work, trust, and dedication.

Tell us about your characters, how they developed, and what roles they play.

Eleanor arrived first: a small woman, determined and a bit fierce. I thought she’d make a good 21^st century CEO or head of a social justice group. Imagine my surprise when she announced she was a 13^th century English prioress. As my jaw dropped, she suggested I study the Order of Fontevraud to discover what clever young women (albeit high-born) could do in the Middle Ages. She also said that she might have a sincere vocation but she would have struggles with pride and a strong sexuality. Brother Thomas revealed himself more slowly. I did not want a Dr. Watson type. He had to be a powerful character in his own right or frankly both Eleanor and I would get bored with him. Unfortunately, he started evolving into good husband material for her. I wasn’t interested in a series with romps in the monastic hayloft, but I couldn’t imagine them as sexless characters either. They are both of an age when biology demands mating. Luckily, Thomas solved part of the problem by admitting he was gay. This gave him some rather profound issues to resolve. Although he must behave differently in the 13^th century than he would in the 21^st, I promised him that he would not fall into some easy solution that would insult his integrity. As a gay man, he is, and shall remain, a real mensch. His announcement also allowed me to investigate a lesser known, and often avoided, aspect of medieval society and to explore the complex nature of love as he and Eleanor evolve in the series. The main secondary characters arrived quickly, generously allowing themselves to reveal aspects of medieval life. Sister Anne illustrates a woman’s choices when her husband decides to take religious vows. Ralf may be rebellious, but he is still the youngest son of minor nobility and family interests demand his loyalty. Gytha, the prioress’ maid, comes from a family of pre-Conquest Saxon thegns. Now the conquered people, they struggle to achieve merchant class.

Why choose monastic sleuths rather than secular ones?

The answer partially lies in the monastic leader’s authority as well as an element of Christian belief. An abbot/abbess or prior/prioress was the representative of religious law on Church property and for their monastics. As such, they had the right to investigate and often try any of their religious who committed felonies. So a presumed amateur like Eleanor has the right to get involved in crimes. Added to this was the belief that a religious might be a flawed mortal, incapable of perfection, but he/she was still obliged to strive toward God’s perfection. If God was perfect, so was His justice. Thus Eleanor may rationalize her attempts to find a more perfect justice than that found in secular society—and sometimes the religious one. And, finally, the Church and the State were in constant war with each other over power and wealth. This adds tension and plot possibilities for my religious sleuths, liegemen of the Church, when they must deal with secular authority.

Why did you pick the late 13^th century/early 14th?

I suffer the curse of once being a comparative literature major so sought a period with historical events that might resonate with us today. The late 1200s/early 1300s were perfect. I’m not trying to force comparisons between that era and today, but I do see hints of similarities—like an image in a pond when a breeze ruffles the surface. History rarely duplicates itself, but the past often illustrates the dangers of taking certain paths and the consequences of decisions made. And I thought it would be fun to play with the issue of transitioning generations: if people grew up learning the values of one era, what would they do when faced with changing ideals, practices, prospects? Whether deemed good, bad, or indifferent, Henry III’s reign lasted fifty-six years. That was longer than the average lifespan in the 13^th century. Then his son, Edward I, arrived, a man who tried to be his father’s opposite. Relative peace exploded into many wars. Lax legal practices were reined in. Stricter laws enforced compliance. Bled dry by taxes and fees, all Jews were expelled from England. The Church rejected debate and experimentation, growing rigid and choosing violence to silence dissent. The causes of change were complex but included a global chilling which severely affected health and the economy. My characters will face interesting dilemmas as the series progresses!

Tell us about your newest book.

Valley of Dry Bones is now out in traditional print, audio, and e-reader versions. Although I try not to favor any amongst the series brood, this book was especially fun to write, in part because I could finally include liturgical dramas. In 2003, I saw The Play of Daniel, presented by Aurora Theater and the Pacific Mozart Ensemble in Berkeley CA, a work that may be 12^th-13^th century but reminded me of early opera with all the drama but fewer stage mechanics. It also had roaring lions, the perfect backdrop to murder. My excitement must have been contagious because many characters showed up for inclusion in Valley. I rejected several, bribing some with appearances in future books. Crowner Ralf’s brother, the sheriff, did make final casting, and Eleanor’s nemesis, the man in black, who is Thomas’ spymaster. Although I once assumed this latter fellow, now named Father Eliduc, was a villain, I discovered he possessed interesting shades of gray. Since Edward I is now king, I also wanted to hint at coming events. Ralf and his brother see the advent of a new legal system: less overt corruption but fewer options for individualized justice. Father Eliduc foresees the evolution in the Church/State power struggle and recognizes the need to recruit men possessed of more zeal but probably fewer scruples. The future interaction between Eleanor and Eliduc promises to be exciting.

Thank you, Sharon, for inviting me to your blog. Your books have given me much pleasure over the years and are an ongoing source of inspiration as well as a major reason the medieval era continues to intrigue. Should any of your readers have questions about my series, my website (www.priscillaroyal.com) provides a link to my email. And if they are interested in blogs, I am one of the mystery writers at the Lady Killers (www.theladykillers.typepad.com
Thank you, Priscilla!  I know you’re hard at work on another medieval mystery, so I appreciate your taking the time away from your writing and researching to pay us a visit.  
November 18, 2010

     I have recently been approached about conducting a tour of Eleanor of Aquitaine’s France in 2011.   I am working out the details of this project with Academic Travel Aboard, a professional tour operator in Washington, DC that has sixty years of experience in the educational travel field.  We plan to delve into twelfth century life during this 10-12 day tour of Paris, Poitiers, and other sites closely associated with Eleanor’s life and times.  Naturally we are considering Fontevrault Abbey and Chinon Castle.  We would like to get feedback from my readers and Facebook and my blog offer a unique opportunity to do this.  If you click onto the link below, you can participate in a very brief poll; your answers will help us to shape the program.   And of course I’d be very interested in any comments and suggestions you care to make.  There are some truly spectacular places associated with Eleanor, Henry, and their Devil’s Brood, including Mont St Michel and Carcassonne.  I’ve often mentioned the spell that Fontevrault casts and I’d love to share that experience with some of my readers.  So please do take the poll and let me know your thoughts.   Thanks!

 http://www.zoomerang.com/Survey/WEB22BD52FCKZ8  

October 23, 2010

     I am delighted to be able to interview an author I’ve long admired, Laurel Corona.  Laurel has a very interesting background; she was a professor of English and the humanities at San Diego City College and is the author of a number of Young Adult books written for school libraries.  She is also the author of Until The Last Breath: A Holocaust Story of Love and Partisan Resistance, and The Four Seasons, a novel about Antonio Vivaldi’s Venice.  And she has perfectly expressed the responsibilities of the historical novelist in what I think should be our Eleventh Commandment–Do not defame the dead.   Today is the publication date for Laurel’s new novel, Penelope’s Daughter.  This has been at the top of my TBE list as soon as I heard about it, and I plan to treat myself as soon as Lionheart goes off to my editor.  But I will let you learn about Penelope’s Daughter and its fascinating premise in Laurel’s own words.

How did you come up with the idea for PENELOPE’S DAUGHTER?

I guess you could say I gave birth to Xanthe, the main character in PENELOPE’S DAUGHTER, over the dinner table one night. (That’s a weird image isn’t it–giving birth to someone else’s child among the dinner plates and wine glasses?

My partner Jim and I had recently returned from a midwinter trip to Venice, where I was researching a few final details for THE FOUR SEASONS before it went to press.  We were reminiscing about how much fun we’d had, and Jim wondered aloud what might be an equally fun location for my second novel.

At the time I was already in the very early planning stages for what I thought I was going to write next, but out of curiosity, I asked him where he wanted to go. Jim is a great lover of the classics, so I wasn’t surprised when he said Greece, but it was news to me that, as widely traveled as he is, he had never been there.

“Okay,” I said, “we have to go. Now all I need to figure out is what the novel will be about.”  I don’t remember which one of us suggested Homer, but I will never forget Jim’s reaction when I said, “How about if, when Odysseus goes off to the Trojan War, he doesn’t know Penelope is pregnant with a daughter?”

“You can’t mess with Homer!” Jim insisted.  And of course, once he said that, I had to write PENELOPE’S DAUGHTER just to prove him wrong!

How does putting a daughter in the story change it?

The ODYSSEY has two narrative strands, Odysseus’ adventures and the “meanwhile, back at the ranch” story about the suitors trying to steal Odysseus’ wife and kingdom.  Odysseus’ adventures aren’t part of my book at all, but once I thought about the impact of a daughter on the story of the women left behind–whom, quite frankly, Homer shows very little interest in–the whole epic broke open as a far more fascinating tale than the one Homer wrote down.

Homer’s Penelope is a male fantasy, a woman stubbornly faithful to–and helpless without–her man.  Odysseus is gone nearly twenty years, but what’s that to a good wife?  There was no way I could base a novel around someone who does nothing but weep and moan about her situation and pray for her husband’s return.

What is there between the lines in Homer’s story, however, is that Penelope is a teenaged bride, a pampered princess taken from her luxurious childhood home to a rocky, poor, island kingdom. She lives with her new husband, a rough-hewn local warlord, only long enough for their first child to reach his first birthday. She is probably at most seventeen when he leaves her alone, without the support of friends or family, for twenty years.  That’s an interesting starting point for a story about a girl who must rise to the occasion and become a strong woman, mother, and queen.

The other immediately obvious thing was that the suitors would have no interest in Penelope if she had a daughter. That daughter, not Penelope, would be Odysseus’ heir if Telemachus, her older brother, were to die–which, Homer tells us, the suitors have in mind. My story revolves around the fact that in this violent and predatory environment, the victorious suitor would be the one who impregnated Xanthe, forced a marriage, and produced an heir. Penelope, therefore, must figure out how to keep her son from being murdered and her daughter from being raped.  All this becomes part of the plot of my novel.

The third revelation was Helen.  We know from other sources that Helen was married at twelve and had an eight-year-old daughter when she went off to Troy.  That means she had to be at least twenty-one at the time the Trojan War started and thirty-one when it was finally over.  Helen and Penelope are cousins fairly close in age, so when Penelope sends thirteen-year-old Xanthe to Sparta to keep her safe in Helen’s care, the Helen whom Xanthe lives with is middle aged by the standards of the time. Being ravishingly beautiful is enough to make her important in Homer’s story, but an older woman had better be interesting in her own right.  I wondered what someone like Helen would be like at that age, after all she has seen and done, and it was really a joy to give her substance in my story.

What have you learned about yourself from writing fiction? How is your own personality reflected in your novels?

I have to agree about the autobiographical underpinnings of all fiction, but I think this means something different from what many people think. It doesn’t necessarily mean that our characters are aspects of ourselves, or that our plots connect to events in our lives. What is autobiographical is that the outlook on life that is the product of an author’s genes, environment, and experiences is going to show up in the way he or she chooses a subject for a novel and then goes about formulating the plot, characters, and settings. 

I am blessed with what some people call the “happy gene.”  Even at the lowest points of my life I have been optimistic, and I tend to see others in a positive light. I am most comfortable telling stories about healthy, functional people who manage to thrive where they are, and have the courage to act to change what they can.  Tension and conflict in my novels are far more a result of historical events, and the societal limitations put on women (and men too, but women are my focus) than they are brought on by nasty or villainous characters–although I have a few of those too.

The message I have for readers is the same one I have for myself every day, that life is manageable regardless of our circumstances, that people have the strength and character to rise to whatever the situation demands, and that tomorrow is always worth sticking around for. My novels have helped me to clarify and affirm those beliefs for myself and I hope readers hear those themes loud and clear in all my books.

What can readers expect next from Laurel Corona?

Novel number three, FINDING EMILIE will be released by Simon and Schuster/Gallery Books in May 2011.  This, by the way, was the idea I was mulling over when that dinner table “birth” changed my plans.  It is based on the story of real-life mathematician and physicist, Emilie du Châtelet, a Parisian noblewoman who lived during the Enlightenment.  Most who know of her recall that she was Voltaire’s lover for many years, but she should be far better known for her scientific work, which include a translation and commentary on Newton’s Principia.  She was a free-spirited and flamboyant character, whose life was cut short at age 43 by complications of childbirth after an unexpected pregnancy from her affair with a dashing young soldier/poet. 

The story follows the daughter she gave birth to six days before her death. Through vignettes about Emilie, readers learn more about the mother than the daughter herself knows, and the story revolves around the daughter’s quest to figure out who she is and what she wants, and to shape her own destiny by discovering the facts about the remarkable woman whom, unknown to her, she so resembles.

There’s a lot more about FINDING EMILIE and PENELOPE’S DAUGHTER on my website, www.laurelcorona.com, as well as a peek at my work in progress, THE SHAPE OF THE WORLD.  Also, as a way of delivering on my dedication of PENELOPE’S DAUGHTER to “all the children left behind when fathers and mothers go off to war,” I maintain a blog, “Xanthe’s World,” on issues affecting military children at www.pensdaughter.blogspot.com.

Thank you, Laurel, for stopping by.  If I was eager to read Penelope’s Daughter before, now I am downright impatient!

I am delighted to welcome Jeri Westerson, the author of the popular Crispin Guest mysteries.  Jeri’s newest, The Demon’s Parchment, will soon be published, and so I invited her to stop by and talk about it. 
Sharon: While other authors writing medieval mysteries have opted for a gentle tone, frequently with a monk or nun protagonist, you have chosen to write “Medieval Noir,” with a former knight as the detective, a sub-genre you seem to have invented. How did you come up with this approach?
Jeri: I certainly enjoyed those medieval mysteries, particularly the mother of them all, Brother Cadfael (Brother of them all?) but when I sat down to write my medieval mystery, I didn’t want to write a monk or nun protagonist. I knew I wanted something more action-packed, more angsty. And I wanted a true detective, not someone who just stumbles on corpses or is asked as a favor to find out whodunit. I took my cue from the hardboiled detective fiction of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett that I so loved and admired. After a lot of ruminating on it, I believed I could place a hardboiled detective with all the tropes—a femme fatale, disgruntled cops, tough-talking crooks—and place him in the Middle Ages while still keeping it true to the medieval time period. It’s fun, actually, making it work, and so I came up with my disgraced knight turned detective, Crispin Guest. The stories are darker and edgier than the average medieval mystery, with a twisting tale of dark secrets, dealing with a small circle of people that blossoms into a bigger, more complex plot. It’s actually more hardboiled than in the strictest sense of noir, but “Medieval Noir” sounded better than “Medieval Hardboiled.”    
Sharon: When did you first meet your main character, Crispin Guest? Did he come to you all at once, or gradually?
Jeri: I wanted someone with fighting skills, experience on the battlefield, a facility with languages, and able to read and write. And then, following the trope of the hardboiled detective where he is somewhat down on his luck with chip on his shoulder, I knew he had to be someone who had it all and lost it. What better protagonist could there be but a disgraced knight? And once I decided on that, it all fell into place. So, a little like Athena, he sprang forth out of my forehead fully formed. I knew exactly who he was.
Sharon: Tell us about Crispin.
Jeri: Crispin is a dark and brooding man. He was the protégé of John of Gaunt, the duke of Lancaster, and lived in his household for a good part of his youth. The man was like a father to him. And so when Edward of Woodstock (the Black Prince) died, followed shortly by Edward III, the line of succession led to the Black Prince’s ten-year-old son Richard. But Crispin thought that his mentor the duke should take the throne and he joined with conspirators to make it happen. Unfortunately, all were discovered and executed. Except for Crispin. The duke begged for his life and Crispin ended up on the streets of London, devoid of his fortune, title, and status. He reinvents himself as the Tracker, finding lost objects, solving the occasional murder, all for sixpence a day plus expenses. Losing who he was naturally makes him a bit grouchy and offers some interesting angsty moments. Writing a male character is fascinating and fun. I get to be a handsome, swashbuckling, honorable-to-a-fault man for three hundred pages. That’s a far cry from the middle-aged, overweight Jewish mother I am.
Sharon: Whom do you picture as your ideal reader when you’re in the process of writing?
Jeri: Good question. I think the ideal reader would be someone who appreciates history with their mystery or vice versa. They’d also enjoy a good adventure because that’s how I think of these novels. I was terribly influenced by swashbuckling movies growing up and so I like a bit of that kind of action in my plots. Crispin is a bit Sam Spade, a bit Philip Marlowe and a bit Errol Flynn, rather a fun combination.
Sharon: You have quite a publishing story. Will you share?
Jeri: I started out in 1993 to pursue a writing career after having had a successful career as a graphic artist in Los Angeles. I wrote historical fiction that my agent just couldn’t place with publishers. It was later suggested to me that I switch to writing historical mysteries and once I got too tired of all the rejections I finally made the change. It turned around for me rather quickly. Now I have a hard time imagining writing anything else. In the interest of full disclosure, there was actually a Crispin book prior to my first published book, VEIL OF LIES, that got rejected all over town, including my publisher St. Martin’s. So my agent and I decided to put that one to bed and start working on selling Crispin number two, VEIL OF LIES which was already written. Just as I sent in that manuscript to my agent, an editor from St. Martin’s, who had rejected that first manuscript, called my agent and asked if I had anything else in that series as he “couldn’t get the characters out of his head.” Without even getting a chance to read it, my agent sent it off to St. Martin’s and two weeks later I had my first contract. And it only took fourteen years and two weeks. I am the poster child for persistence.
Sharon: How long ago did your interest in things medieval blossom?
Jeri: I was raised by parents who were rabid Anglophiles. So I grew up surrounded by English history and the love for it. We also had great historical fiction by all the big names: Thomas B. Costain, Anya Seton, Nora Lofts. I think what I liked about those books was that an historical setting offered just that bit of fantasy, taking the reader to a different place and time. The medieval period seems particularly romantic, in a sense. Arthurian legends, Robin Hood, the pageantry of a bygone era. It’s fun to fit your characters into that particular place, making them someone readers can relate to while grounding them in this foreign setting. And though it does offer a different sensibility of another time, it also affords the author the opportunity to comment on contemporary issues by couching it in the safe harbor of another era. The trick is to make sure it’s also historically accurate. 
Sharon: You’ve described your books as “romantic with a twisty mystery thrown in for good measure.” Are you talking about the concept of romance as it was originally perceived?
Jeri: That’s exactly right. As you know, Sharon, the original “romance” was an adventure tale of some hero of chivalry, and that goes back to what I said before about thinking of these novels as “adventure tales.” It’s a quest for the character to fully realize their potential as a man and as that elusive creature, the hero. I’m also fascinated by this notion of the “band of brothers” that Shakespeare coined in Henry V in, ironically enough, his St. Crispin’s Day speech. I get to explore that aspect of masculinity that is unique to men, the mystique of cleaving together in these intense relationships.
Sharon: Putting heroes aside, do you have a favorite minor character?
Jeri: That would have to be Jack Tucker, who really is also a hero. He was only supposed to be a very minor character at first but then he would not go away! He’s Crispin’s apprentice. Crispin reluctantly takes him in. He’s a street urchin, a cut purse. Orphaned at eight, he’s lived on the streets of London all that time and still managed to keep his gentle heart. Crispin comes upon him when he’s eleven. He’s a combination of Huck Finn, the Artful Dodger, and Peter Pan rolled into one. For Crispin, he’s the son and squire he’ll never now have. There’s an interesting dynamic between them and they manage to teach each other important life lessons while racing through a ripping good yarn.
Sharon: There are relics involved in your stories.
Jeri: Yes. Each novel deals with some sort of relic or legend. I like to think of the relics as the McGuffin. Alfred Hitchcock coined that term and it means the unimportant thing that sets the plot in motion, whether it’s something everyone tries to get their hands on or something everyone is trying to get rid of. It’s the sort of Maltese Falcon in these stories. It’s an added twist that I wanted to include to complicate things. But it’s not by rote. Sometimes the relic is the most important thing in the story but sometimes it’s just a McGuffin.
Sharon: Was there one book that shaped you as a child?
Jeri: Several, probably. One I remember was the Big Golden Book of Fairy Tales with myths and legends from all over the world and all different eras. Some were really quite creepy and they had wonderful illustrations to go with them. I also still have the child’s version of The Canterbury Tales, also full of bazaar illustrations. I really like the fantasy aspect of these books, so it was little wonder that the Lord of the Rings saga enveloped me when I was in high school. The idea of that marvelous world building intrigued me as well as the whole heroes journey, the chivalry, the quest, and the suffering hero. That sensibility is definitely reflected in Crispin’s tales.
Sharon: Tell us about your newest, THE DEMON’S PARCHMENT.
Jeri: Crispin is hired by a Jewish physician from France to find some stolen parchments, parchments that may have to do with the gruesome serial murders of young boys. Is a heartless killer stalking the streets and alleys of London, or something far more sinister? This is the third book in the series and it’s scheduled for release October 12. 
Sharon: What’s next for you?
Jeri: Next fall will see the release of Crispin number four, TROUBLED BONES, where Crispin and Jack are called to Canterbury to protect the bones of St. Thomas Beckett from the clutches of the Lollards, but they find murder instead and an old friend of Crispin’s who might be a killer. 
I’m also working on a second medieval mystery series with all new characters that will be lighter in tone set to be a lusty, funny, fast-paced romp. But in the meantime, you can see the Crispin series book trailer, book discussion guides, my appearance schedule to see if I’ll be in your home town, and other fun stuff on my website www.JeriWesterson.com; you can see my blog of history and mystery at www.Getting-Medieval.com; and you can read Crispin’s blog at www.CrispinGuest.com. You can also friend Crispin on his Facebook page or follow me on Twitter.
Sharon: Thank you for joining us, Jeri.  
Jeri: Thanks so much for having me, Sharon
     This was a wonderful interview and I am so sorry that I was unable to add the very striking image of The Demon’s Parchment book cover, but the evil Melusine, my computer, has gone over totally to the dark side and will no longer allow me to add photos to the blog.   So please click onto Jeri’s links above to see what the book looks like.  If you haven’t stopped by her website until now, you’re in for a treat. 
September 26, 2010