International Day of Commemoration

The General Assembly of the United Nations has designated today, the 27th of January, as the International Day of Commemoration to honor the victims of the Holocaust. This year, the theme is "The Legacy of Survival," emphasizing the universal lessons that survivors pass on to succeeding generations.

On this day in 1945, the concentration camp at Auschwitz was liberated by the Soviet Army; 5,000 prisoners had been left behind to die and many survived to bear witness to the atrocities committed at the camp, helping to both hunt down and prosecute fugitive Nazi criminals. It is estimated more than a million people died in Auschwitz; a staggering 90% were Jewish or of Jewish origin. The other groups who died in large numbers were Sinti and Roma (gypsies), Poles and Soviet prisoners-of-war; gay people and people with disabilities also perished in the camp, often after months of slave labor.

United Nations Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon said in 2007: "The International Day in memory of the victims of the Holocaust is thus a day on which we must reassert our commitment to human rights. [...] We must also go beyond remembrance, and make sure that new generations know this history. We must apply the lessons of the Holocaust to today’s world. And we must do our utmost so that all peoples must enjoy the protections and rights for which the United Nations stands."

In honor of the millions who suffered and died during the Holocaust, I'd like to recommend a book that, for me, became a profoundly transformative experience when I first read it in my teens: Elie Wiesel's Night. Now a Nobel laureate and the author of fifty-seven books, Mr Wiesel and his family were deported to Auschwitz when he was just 16 years old; he spent eleven months in Auschwitz and Buchenwald. What he saw and underwent are unforgettable. Written with devastating simplicity, Night is one of the most important personal testaments about the Holocaust. Mr Wiesel once said, "In Night, I wanted to show the finality of the event. Everything came to an end—man, history, literature, religion, God. There was nothing left. And yet we begin again with night."

מאי אנחנו לעולם לא אשכח
May we never forget.

It's official!

Thanks to all of you for being patient. I did promise you to deliver the news as soon as it was "official" and today it appeared in PW.

My fabulous agent, Jennifer Weltz, deserves all the accolades. She's one of the hardest working and nicest agents in this business, and I honestly don't know what I'd do without her. Plus, she keeps me very busy and out of trouble, as you can see :)

Review: SACRED HEARTS by Sarah Dunant

An era convulsed by religious reformation and a convent on the threshold of irrevocable change are the basis for Sarah Dunant's eloquent, compelling third novel in her Renaissance trilogy, SACRED HEARTS.

When young and willful Serafina is immured against her wishes in the Convent of Santa Caterina, in the Italian city of Ferrara, she is merely following in the terrible footsteps of countless unwanted or tarnished girls before her. It is estimated that by the late 16th century, dowries had grown so exorbitant that almost half of the noble women in Italy were obliged to take the veil. But Serafina's rebellion is not like that of other girls'; heart-wrenching, relentless, and ultimately explosive, the disruption she creates sets off a series of events that grow to involve the wry dispensary mistress, the worldly abbess, and ambitious novice mistress. Each sees in Serafina a means of deliverance or downfall; each aspires to influence the wayward girl's course. But as they struggle to subdue the passion in Serafina's rebellious soul, each finds she must come to terms with the sorrows, lost hopes, and decisions of her own past as well as the unstoppable changes bearing down on the convent from the outside.

SACRED HEARTS is an extraordinary journey into a world we rarely see, a place where women sacrificed their personal desires and dreams to come together for safety. Though set within a convent, Dunant offers a rich and complex tale that will speak to anyone who has longed for redemption and fought for the impossible.

Now available in hardcover, SACRED HEARTS will be released this April in trade paperback.

Book Trailer Sunday: Robin Maxwell talks about O, JULIET

It's actually Monday, I know; and a day to honor the legacy of Dr Martin Luther King. But for some reason this post didn't actually "post" when I timed it for yesterday.

So, here is my Sunday author video, a day late. Author and good friend Robin Maxwell talks about how she fell in love with her husband Max and the genesis for her upcoming book, O JULIET, in which she novelizes for the first time ever the tale of the world's most famous lovers. Enjoy!

Guest post from Ben Kane, author of THE FORGOTTEN LEGION

I'm delighted to welcome Ben Kane, author of The Forgotten Legion and The Silver Eagle. The Forgotten Legion was a 2009 Book of the Year selection at the UK-based retailer Waterstones and was recently released in paperback here in the US. Set amongst the splendor and chaos of the Roman Republic in first century BCE, the novel introduces us to four very different people struggling to survive. Ben offers us a detailed look at the underbelly of the oft-romanticized republican life through the eyes of two gladiators, a soothsayer, and a prostitute, as well as the horrors of the slave trade and of war at this time in history. There's intrigue, violence, passion, and drama in abundance, making this a thrilling read; it also sets the stage for the exciting sequel, The Silver Eagle, which is due out on March 16 here in the US.

Please join me in welcoming Ben Kane to Historical Boys!

How The Forgotten Legion was Born
Just over ten years ago, I was fortunate enough to visit some of the countries in Central Asia. In the ruins of Merv, an ancient city situated in modern day Turkmenistan, I was absolutely intrigued to discover that Roman legionaries had been there more than two thousand years previously. This was half a world from Italy, and more than two thousand miles from the easternmost Roman provinces of Syria and Judaea. Upon my return home, I did some research, finding that the unfortunate soldiers had been captured after the battle of Carrhae, in 53 BC. Their leader had been Marcus Licinius Crassus, a member of the triumvirate which ruled Rome at the time. Unhappy at the shining military credentials of his co-rulers, Julius Caesar and Pompey Magnus, Crassus determined to annex the desert kingdom of Parthia. His stunning victory would earn him the Roman people’s respect, which he so badly craved.

His plan came badly unstuck for a number of reasons. First among these was his lack of cavalry. At the time, Roman armies retained no horsemen of their own, relying instead on mercenaries – Spanish, Gaulish and German tribesmen. Alongside more than 30,000 infantry, Crassus had only 2,000 cavalry. Ariamnes, a local tribal leader, had brought approximately 6,000 horsemen to augment these forces, but, as so often in such cases, they were of questionable loyalty, and duly deserted before the battle. A second reason for Crassus’ defeat was the military expertise of his opponent, the Parthian general Surenas. Along with his 1,000 cataphracts, or armoured heavy cavalry, Surenas brought to the field approximately 9,000 horse archers. These warriors, trained to use their compound bows from childhood, were capable of loosing clouds of arrows while guiding their horses with only their knees. To the rear, a caravan of more than 1,000 camels carried tens of thousands of arrows, ensuring that the Parthians would not run out of ammunition.

Once Crassus’ cavalry had been dispersed or killed, he and his infantry were completely at their enemies’ mercy. One can only imagine how terrible the ensuing massacre was. By the day’s end, more than 20,000 legionaries lay dead, and a further 10,000 had been taken prisoner. A mere 5,000 escaped to the River Euphrates and safety. No one knows what happened to the Roman captives – apart from the fact that they were marched to Antiochia (later called Merv) in Margiana (modern day Turkmenistan). There, at the outer limits of the Parthian empire, they served as border guards, and were lost to history forever.

Struck by the unfinished nature of their tale, I eventually decided to write the legionaries’ story. The Forgotten Legion seemed a natural title for the book. The backdrop was perfect too, set as it was during the last days of a once mighty Republic, with the ensuing tumult of the civil war and Caesar’s rise to power. Armed with a quartet of interesting characters, three of whom would march with Crassus, and one who would stay in Rome, I sat down and began to type. Eighteen months later, I had a finished novel, and soon after, a book deal.

Thank you, Ben. Best of luck! I'm looking forward to the next book and to Ben's new trilogy on the Second Punic War. To find out more about Ben and his work, please visit him at his website.

Thank you, Bloggers!

Better late than never, right? I wanted to again thank all the bloggers, in particular the fabulous ladies of The Historical Fiction Roundtable, where I'll be making my first official visit in May to promote The Confessions of Catherine de Medici. Bloggers tirelessly and enthusiastically championed my work in 2009; their support for writers is invaluable, and without them getting word out about my books wouldn't be nearly as fun or rewarding. I was also just informed by my agent that The Last Queen was mentioned on several Best of 2009 Reads, which is fantastic! I am very grateful, and so, I like to think, is Juana herself, who's definitely having the last laugh.

The Last Queen made the following Best Reads of 2009 lists:
Jo-Jo Loves to Read
The Burton Review
Historical Tapestry
Historical Fiction.com
Age 30+ A Lifetime of Books
Historically Obsessed

Thank you again, de corazon.

It's 2010; time to win some bling!

Happy New Year. I hope you had a lovely time ringing out the decade. May 2010 bring you much love, health, and success.

Now, time to win some bling! Fellow historical fiction author and good friend Robin Maxwell is launching her "O, Juliet Love Games" in celebration of her upcoming novel O, JULIET - a sumptuous, first-time-ever novelized account of the legendary lovers. Today, Monday, January 4th, and on the next two Mondays to follow, you can enter to win a signed copy of the book and a heart necklace (one hand-crafted solid silver, one blown glass, and one carved Thai silver) on Robin's blog. All you need to provide is your email address and answer a simple question about love. You can read a sneak peek of O, JULIET here.

Good luck! What better way to start the new year than with books and jewelry?

Happy Holidays!

To Self-Publish or Not: That is the Question

So, tomorrow is Christmas Eve; a time of alleged peace and goodwill toward men, and I just got my shorts in a knot over this post. Now, I know Harlequin's decision to start a self-publishing branch sent its authors into a tailspin and had the internet and industry at large buzzing like a disturbed hornet's nest, and all for good reason. I've been quite interested, having resided on both sides of the fence, so to speak; now, after reading this post and its underhanded stab at agents, I have an opinion to express.

I must start out by saying I just love it when self-publishing companies boast about how much they're helping out writers because they offer a service we can take or leave; they are so forward-thinking they're on the edge of a life-shattering industry-wide change; and, my all time favorite, among their thousands of paying clients lies a trove of unrecognized talent which ended up in the slushpile. Every time I hear such declarations, heralding the dawn of a new age for writers everywhere, I shudder and think how much more self-serving can they get? Well, this guy hits a new high, and while I can't pretend to know if he's sincere or not, I do think I can speak for the every-day writer he stands to make money on, regardless of whether said writer ever sells a single book.

When I first started writing, I was always of the mind that I wrote to be read. For me, the act of writing is incomplete without the reader. I am a novelist; that is my trade. So, being published was my ultimate goal; but after years of rejection I had no other choice than to look into the alternative. It was either that or stop writing. I therefore approached independent publishing in a wary fashion, much as you might approach a potentially dangerous beast. I spent a year researching every aspect and method, and spent countless hours on a forum attended by perhaps the largest gathering of self publishers and independent publishers on the planet. Through them, I learned a lot, not enough to not make mistakes, but enough to know that if I wanted to give my work some semblance of integrity, I should never sign with one of the large self-publishing companies. Indeed, I must avoid them at all costs. This was my impression; evidently, many other writers would beg to differ.

Instead, after months of networking, I published for no advance (and a $99 set-up fee) with a micro start-up press in San Francisco. It was self publishing but without the accumulative extras; for $99, they did a nice job getting the book ready. But distribution issues were a nightmare and when the press eventually went belly-up, to keep my then modest-selling book in print, I entered into a venture with two other partners to establish an independent press using POD. One of my partners decided to eschew the stigma of POD by printing a offset run of her books; to date, I believe a quantity of them remain in boxes in a warehouse. Her intentions were sound; but as we soon discovered, independently published authors, no matter how well dressed, rarely get invited to bookstores. I , in turn, cleaved to POD. I never expected to secure bookstore distribution and was therefore unwilling to shell out the thousands of dollars required for a print run; and frankly, all of this made me feel faintly humiliated. While I was proud of what I'd accomplished (my sales had by then risen to a few thousand copies), I must admit I was not at all willing to look booksellers in the eye and negotiate consignment deals. Like most writers, I dreamed of my book appearing on shelves, not hand-delivering copies for a 50/50 split.

I once read an article where a self-published author who'd secured a mainstream publishing contract said: "I self-published to escape self-publishing." Looking back, while I cannot say I did it deliberately, for me the end result was the same. I eventually got an agent who believed in me; she got editors interested. There was an auction; I sold two books; and I never looked back. Not once. Having an agent I adore, who fights for me every step in the way, has helped me establish a fledgling career and made me more money via one traditional book deal, let alone all the foreign rights, than I ever made in five years of dedicated independent publishing. Agents fight for their clients because everything they decide to represent they take on faith and on commission: if you don't get paid (or, in this case, acquired) they don't. The above linked post makes a stab at agents when in fact without them, we writers would truly be at the mercy of people like him. And while self-publishing companies may be a "disruptive force", mainly they're disruptive to the would-be author's bank account, because most of the time they're profit-driven operations disguised as altruism, designed to lure the uninformed writer into the belief that his or her dream can come true. Whether or not the work has merit or sales potential beyond family and friends is secondary, if ever considered. The goal is to make money off the writer, not the reader. This alleged new pardigam in self-publishing may tout itself as the missing link between vanity and traditional, but in the end the company always make money – they charge a fee, remember? - while the author in the majority of the cases does not.

As for undiscovered talent, it's doubtlessly true, and very sad, that many gifted writers never see publication. But how much of it is publishers' lack of foresight and how much is that many gifted writers, after having been knocked about for years in the marathon combat arena that is submissions, toss their manuscript into a drawer and take up rock climbing? An editor in NY who read my work fourteen years ago but was unable to offer at the time called me up to tell me: "You have talent. But that alone doesn't mean much. It's the writers who keep trying who make it. Never give up." As harsh as it is, talent isn't necessarily going to make the cut and neither is perseverance; but armed with both, a writer does stand a chance as long as publishers are acquiring books. Not every writer, and not for years for many, but in the final round some editor, somewhere, is going to recognize the talent and take the chance, if stars are in alignment and the marketplace right.

The above-mentioned post states: "Many would-be authors don’t need a traditional publishing house. That’s the dirty little secret. They already have access to an audience and can reach it without the help of a traditional publisher." Excuse my French, but this is merde. It is true that a few writers have "built-in" audiences before they start, but by and large they are specialists with already-established reputations in related fields, like speakers with a following, gurus, self-help workshop leaders, cult figures, etc. The rest of us usually just start out being famous at home at dinnertime and so we need publishers to recognize our work, just as publishers need us so they can publish new voices and sell books. The real dirty secret is that self-publishing companies since time began have dangled this particular parcel of lies as bait to reel in desperate writers who need to believe their work has enough merit to make it, New York be damned. While the sentiment is admirable, indeed commendable, these writers often find themselves in for a very rude surprise. The long-anticipated revolution in self-published books that sell a fraction of what the average NY Times bestseller does has thus far failed to materialize. Nevertheless, if you approach self-publishing fully cognizant that every odd in the industry is stacked against you and unless you hustle hard and often, you'll most likely never sell enough to compensate what you paid to see your book in print , then you're "informed" and entering it with your eyes wide open. Even so, in my experience, the resultant disappointment can be crushing. Very few writers relish failing to find readers. It's just not in our nature.

Publishers take the risk on unknown writers and it's a gamble they sometimes lose: that has always been the name of game. Traditional publishers pay an advance and offer a royalty structure; they edit the manuscript (more or less); design and typeset the book; print it; promote it (again, more or less) and, most importantly, get it into stores where readers can find it at no additional cost to you, the author.

Not too long ago, after I spoke at an event about my marketing efforts, a writer came up to me to ask how spending my money on marketing was any different from spending money to self-publish. After all, it's my money and it's going toward my book, right? The truth is, building a successful career has more and more in recent years fallen upon the author's shoulders. While never stated openly by the publisher, most of us are fully aware that if we're going to keep publishing books, we must promote and market diligently, using our own money, to augment the publisher's efforts because in this age of dwindling readership and marketing dollars, publishers still have thousands of titles to sell, while we, on the other hand, just have ours. But I see a crucial difference. I get an advance and elect to use a percentage of it to market my work; it's voluntary on my part. I put my hard-earned advance dollars to work for my book, which is very different from paying my hard-earned day job's money to a self-publishing company, which in turn will do nothing for my book.

Do I think every writer should have the choice to self-publish? Of course, I do. I’m certainly glad I did. I might never have attracted the attention of my agent without it. Was it my first choice? Never. It was my last choice, after all else failed; and it only worked for me because one lone agent found my book online paired in a Better Buy Together with a current client of hers (who pointed me out to her, by the way) and she took the time and effort to locate me. I know how incredibly fortunate I am. If approximately 400,000 new titles were published last year and almost half were self-published, just calculate the odds.

But of course, self publishing companies are hoping you won't.

The Holiday ARC

It's that time of year! The holiday season is upon us, and, old jaded ex-retail employee that I am, I'm hiding out avoiding the crush, the endless loop of "Jinglebells" and "I saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus", the frantic rush, the shrieking sales ads: in short, everything. A friend recently asked me, "What are you doing for the holidays?" and my response was straight from the heart: "Hopefully, as little as possible." It's not that I don't like the season, really . . . well, let me rephrase that.

Working in retail / fashion for as long as I did, for most of my twenties, does tend to sour one's view of humanity at this time of year. I recall one Christmas eve in particular when I was working on the floor at a large department store (I was the buyer at the time for accessories) and I came upon two very well-dressed women literally engaged in a tug-of-war over the last ivory-colored cashmere scarf on sale. I went up to them and tried to explain that a) such behavior really wasn't permitted in the store; and b) we had other scarves. I suggested they settle the dispute amicably. Without taking their hands off either end of the now frighteningly streached-out scarf, they retorted, in unison, that I should go *bleep* myself. And then they proceeded to continue their verbal and physical intimidation of each other, trying to establish who had seen the scarf first and therefore who had the superior right to purchase it. Needless to elaborate, since then I have been less than enthusiastic about it all, though I must admit, I love New Year's, when the previous twelve months give way to a whole new slate.

However, despite my humbug ways, the holiday has been good to me. I got my Advanced Reading Copy of The Confessions of Catherine de Medici (due out in hardcover on May 25, 2010, from Ballantine Books) the other day, and, oh, does it look stunning. It's full color, and it sits proudly on my bedside table, so I can reach out whenever I like and caress it. For a writer - or at least for this writer - the arrival of an ARC is like birth pangs. The baby is not far behind - well, in my case, about 6 months, but, hey, it's publishing! - and you finally can see the result of those endless hours spent at the computer writing, revising, editing, despairing, re-writing, hoping . . .

Of course, the ARC has all the errors that I found on the proof pages and red-lined for correction for the finished book, but those are minor complaints compared to the fact that I can look at it and know, I did it. I wrote it. More importantly, I finished it - even if now I can't read a word of it. I skim the pages, oohing and ahhing over the typesetting and chapterheads, but I cannot focus on the actual text for fear that I'll find an error or typo I missed, a sentence I thought was fabulous but now reads like lead falling on glass, or . . . well, you get the point.

I also got very good news regarding my next books - yes, the plural is intentional - but my agent has sworn me to silence until the deal is officially announced in PW and I sign on the dotted line. Maybe that can be my New Year's post . . .

I hope those of you who flee the tinsel like me find refuge. I hope those of you who enjoy it have a very merry time. In the meanwhile, I'm going to go hug my ARC!

Guest post from Tony Hays, author of THE KILLING WAY

I'm very pleased to introduce Tony Hays, a fellow author and friend whose Arthurian mystery series, starting with The Killing Way, has been welcomed with great enthusiasm by readers. Set in a medieval Britian replete with intrigue, mysticism and lethal betrayal, this is not your average re-telling of the Arthurian legend; it's more like CSI: Medieval: gritty, powerful, and with the true ring of historical perspective. Tony's second entry in the series, The Divine Sacrifice , is due out March 30, 2010 and he is under contract for three more books. A native of Madison, Tennessee, Tony is an extensive traveler, who has visited 30 countries and lived in six. You can learn more about Tony and his work at: tonyhays.com

Please join me in welcoming Tony Hays to Historical Boys!

The one question that I get at virtually every place I visit is: Was King Arthur a real person. The short answer is nobody knows. The esteemed historians and archaeologists who say “no” can’t prove their position. And those of us who believe that Arthur did exist can’t prove our position either. Not definitively.

Certainly the Arthur of “Sword in the Stone” and T.H. White’s “The Once and Future King” isn’t real. They owe their lives to Geoffrey of Monmouth, who concocted a life for, what was in Geoffrey’s time, a shadowy figure named Arthur, who was definitely a soldier and might have been a king, but who, nonetheless, had captured his countrymen’s hearts.

We can say, with nearly complete assurance, that characters such as Lancelot and Galahad are the creation of such romancers as Chretien de Troyes. They are fictional. But scattered out among all the intriguing bits and pieces of history before Geoffrey of Monmouth, there is enough to at least tentatively label Guinevere, Bedevere, Kay, Mordred, Gawain, and others as based on historical figures. Merlin most likely has historical roots as well, but he came along about a generation after Arthur.

I learned recently that some researchers believe that Arthur’s sister, Morgan le Fay, was actually based on a person named Morgan ap Tud, touted in The Mabinogion (a collection of tales from old Wales) as Arthur’s court physician. Galahad is believed by some to have been inspired by a soldier/saint named Illtud, said to be a cousin of Arthur’s.
Recently, in a talk sponsored by Clues Unlimited and the Department of History at the University of Arizona, I was asked this very question, and I answered this way: “I believe that there was someone, a single individual whose exploits prompted the Arthurian myth. “ I stand on that statement.

Of all the many candidates for an historical Arthur, I believe that renowned Arthurian scholar Geoffrey Ashe has hit upon the most promising. In the last years of the 5th century, a British leader named Riothamus came to power. The very name “Riothamus” could be interpreted as “most high king.” A letter to him by poet Sidonius Appollinaris survives and hints that he was known for his commitment to justice and doing the right thing. This same Riothamus took an army to Gaul (as Arthur is said to have done), was betrayed by one of his own men, and was last seen retreating toward Avallone in France. The coincidences just pile up.

Does all of this (or should all of this) detract from the mystery, the legend, the magic of the literary Arthur that has emerged? Not for me. Arthur has become such a symbol, a Christian king who believed in right before might, a tragically flawed figure betrayed by those surrounding him, but also a charismatic leader who, even yet, could return to save us from ourselves. That such a man could have a basis in history, could have actually lived, brings me comfort, not distress. Hope, not despair.

Thank you, Tony. We look forward to the next book and wish you much success!

Bite The Hand that Feeds You

I'm so glad I had thanksgiving. It gave me a full four days to feel all warm and fuzzy inside, so now I can come back to reality on Monday.

Today a friend sent me this link.

Now, let me preface my ensuing diatribe with the caveat that I usually have a pretty thick skin when it comes to this type of comment. I've been around long enough to know not everyone embraces historical fiction with quite the same enthusiasm of its fans, and of course the genre is not to everyone's taste, whether you are a reader or a bookseller or both. Though the genre’s offerings are quite diverse, running the gamut from literary to popular, and I believe it boasts plenty of books within it to satisfy most reading tastes, the hard fact is historical fiction is not the most honored of writing genres. One need only examine the recent hoopla over Hilary Mantel’s winning of the Booker Prize and ensuing squabbles amongst certain journalists to distinguish her work from the rest of the mob – efforts Ms Mantel has vigorously refuted— to see that even today there are literary elitists among us.

Nevertheless, I do take issue with this particular bookseller's offhanded remark that he never thought he'd make a "living selling bodice rippers." Now to me, this term is about as insulting as it gets. While the genre certainly has its share of romantic inclinations, some of it rougher on the bodice seams than others, in truth this is an outdated, pejorative adjective to use when describing an entire arena of writing where such talents as Dumas, Sharon Penman, the above mentioned Hilary Mantel, Caleb Carr, Margaret George, Robin Maxwell, Judith Merkle Riley, Madison Smart Bell, Reay Tannahill, Isabel Allende, and Daphne Du Maurier - just to mention a few - have contributed years of work. Collectively, historical fiction accounts for some of the biggest bestselling novels of all time - yes, Gone with the Wind is considered historical fiction - and some of literature's most fascinating characters. Historical fiction writers often research their subjects for years; spend their own money and time traveling to the places where their subjects lived and died; and purchase massive quantities of books to augment said efforts. Recently, several examples of the genre have helped to bolster, and in some cases jump-start, the ailing book industry, and certainly a celebrated few of its authors maintain a constant presence on booksellers' most popular lists.

So, why the need to lump everyone under this misleading and arguably offensive label? Well, first of all, it’s because most people do not know that the term ‘bodice ripper’ was first coined in the 1980s, to describe a burgeoning type of novel that was sexually explicit, usually in a historical setting, and always with a plot involving the heroine’s seduction. This type of novel, a hybrid of the classic English romances popularized by Austen and Bronte, became wildly successful and, as most wildly successful things, became formulaic, down to the swooning, well-endowed woman on the cover.

Nowadays, the descendents of the bodice ripper live on in historical romance; though here, too, the genre is being constantly re-defined by its target audience. Historical romance never pretends to take itself too seriously; indeed, I’ve met several romance authors whose whole-hearted embrace of their appeal, respect for their readers, and passion for what they write is something not a few authors in other so-called high-brow genres might emulate. And historical romance continues to defy all pundits with astonishing sales figures that crush even the most resistant recession, spawning ever-greater popularity with subgenres in the romantic paranormal and time-slip categories.

I do not write or read historical romance—not because I think it’s less worthy, but simply because my particular fetish involves history itself rather than personalized passion between its occupants. If romance is integral to the story, great, but it’s never been a requisite for me, nor do I require it to drive the story. I believe most historical fiction readers would agree. Instead, what I crave is for history to burst alive on the page as reflected through the author's vision and find myself swept from this century into a world both vastly different, and in some aspects startlingly familiar, to my own. This is what historical fiction at its best achieves: it helps to show us who we are by illuminating who we’ve been.

I attended the Historical Novel Society Conference in Chicago along with the other 300 attendees who were ‘heavily into romance and pabulum.’ Conference organizers put together an amazing celebration of the genre, and some of the best known writers in the business were there. When I checked in with the bookseller, something I always do at events, I discovered The Last Queen had sold out on the first day of my first panel, and the bookseller expressed his delight to me personally, adding he “wished [he’d] ordered more copies.” I heard from several other authors at the conference that their books also sold out or sold very well, so apparently our mutual efforts were profitable for all concerned.

Perhaps if our esteemed bookseller had sold nothing, he’d have no cause for complaint.

Happy Thanksgiving

It's astonishing to me how quickly this year has gone by; it's almost December and I'm wondering where the time went, as I'm sure most everyone else is. These days it seems we're on fast track; and I never seem to have enough hours in a day to get to everything on my massive To Do list. However, I have made it a priority to always take time to be grateful for my life and those in it, so in the spirit of thanksgiving, I want to take this moment to acknowledge those who have made such a difference to me this year:

1) My partner. Always there for me, through the rough and the smooth. What more can I ask for?
2) My mom. She moved to Spain last year and I miss her every day.
3) My agent. She champions me, celebrates my triumphs and mitigates my defeats. In the insanity that is publishing, she is my lodestone.
4) My fellow writers. I'd been told there's a ton of competition and envy in this business, and make no mistake about it: there is. However, I'm so very fortunate to have met a group of marvelously supportive and fun writer friends who keep me on my toes. Ladies, you know who you are and I adore you.
5) My fellow bloggers. The online world is a maze; fellow bloggers are always there to guide me along. Whether they've featured my book, interviewed me, posted a review or mentioned me in a post, they have made THE difference for my work. Given the state of publishers' marketing budgets, bloggers are my books' guardian angels.
6) My friends. Because they keep me sane and that's no mean feat.
7) My readers. Because you care enough to buy my books, follow this blog and leave your comments, and write to me via e-mail. I have recieved mail from all over the world and I can't tell you enough how humbled and inspired I am by your enthusiasm for my work.
7) My dog. Because she loves unconditionally and never gives up.

I hope every one of you has a healthy, happy, and peaceful Thanksgiving. Eat well, be merry, and count your blessings. For though these are trying times in our world, if you're loved, have a roof over your head and food on the table, you are certainly blessed.

Book Trailer Sunday: SENSE AND SENSIBILITY AND . . . SEA MONSTERS

I'm done with first pass pages. My brain is mush. But, oh, do I love this trailer, which is Amazon.com's Best Book Video of 2009 (Editor's Choice.) Enjoy!

Book Trailer Sunday: THE GREATEST KNIGHT by Elizabeth Chadwick

So, I've been mired in reading my first-pass pages for The Confessions of Catherine de Medici. These are the actual typeset pages of the book, still unbound; basically, this is my final opportunity to correct typos, editorial inconsistencies, etc. and of course I'm finding far more of these than I'd thought there would be (amazing what typesetting will reveal!)

In the meantime, I missed last week's book trailer Sunday, as I'd just landed back in the US after 10 days in Guatemala. I'll post trip pics soon, but for now I'm delighted to feature the trailer for Elizabeth Chadwick's latest release in the US, The Greatest Knight. I think this is a very dynamic and dramatic trailer that fits the book's subject perfectly. Enjoy!

RAGE OF ACHILLES Winner!

The winner for the RAGE OF ACHILLES giveaway is:
Linda!!
Congratulations! Please send your full mailing address to cwgortner [at] earthlink.net, so I can forward it to Terence Hawkins' publicist. Thanks to all of you who entered and thanks so much to Terence for his marvelous guest post and time spent here at Historical Boys.

Guest post and giveaway from Terence Hawkins, author of THE RAGE OF ACHILLES

Historical Boys is proud to welcome Terence Hawkins, author of the novel The Rage of Achilles. Praised by Tom Perotta, author of Little Children, as a "a genuinely fresh take on a classic text," this modern retelling of Homer's The Iliad has tells the story of Achilles, Paris, Agamemnon, and of the countless Trojans, Achaeans, warriors and peasants caught up in the conflict, their families torn apart by a decade-long war.

In celebration of the novel's publication, Mr Hawkin's publisher has kindly offered a book to giveaway. If you'd like to enter for a chance to win, please leave a comment. A random winner will be drawn from comments on November 10.

Now, please join me in welcoming Terence Hawkins!

The Rage of Achilles was intended as a realistic account of The Iliad. The natural first question is whether I think the Iliad is history or fiction. And the natural answer is both. The structure of the Iliad itself demonstrates that it was composed neither at one time nor by one person; rather, its creation spanned generations of bards. In some of its books, for example, iron is treated as a precious metal, which it unquestionably was in the earlier Bronze Age; in other books, however, it’s common enough for use as arrowheads. Also, a barbarian invasion and subsequent dark age separated the Trojan War from what we think of as classical Greece. So for a lot of reasons it’s entirely reasonable to place little faith in the Iliad as an historic record.

But it’s equally reasonable to believe that the Trojan War actually occurred. Archaeologists have discovered ruins at Hisarlik in Turkey that they’ve identified as Troy-multiple Troys, destroyed and rebuilt successively over thousands of years. One level, labeled Troy VIIa, shows evidence of having fallen at human hands-skeletal fragments with broken jaws and skulls, bronze arrowheads, signs of fire. This level has been dated to 1190 BCE, close to the time assigned to the war by the classical Greeks. It therefore seems safe to conclude that the Iliad is an unreliable account of an actual event. So an historical novelist has a free hand. Or so it would appear.

There is, of course, a problem. The gods. I wanted to stay as close to the original text as possible without violating the limited historical knowledge we have. But in the original almost every action is driven by divine intervention from a nasty and capricious pantheon. How to write a realistic novel in which every development is a holy practical joke? The answer is Julian Jaynes. As I started writing I remembered having read a review of a book called The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind, a title as facially specious as Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds. Which I not only possess but heartily recommend. In any event, Jaynes’ hypothesizes that the development of complex language provoked hemispheric dominance, so that the portion of the brain containing the speech center essentially overpowered the other half . Hemispheric dominance allowed abstract reasoning and the development of the modern self-observing consciousness. Until that point, Jaynes believed that humans were automata reacting to messages between halves of the brain, messages they perceived as the voices of the gods. Relying on both internal and extrinsic linguistic evidence, Jaynes placed this epochal transition at about the time of the Iliad.



Crazy? Maybe. In The God Delusion, Richard Dawkins said that the idea was either a complete crock or the greatest intellectual revolution of the twentieth century. The jury’s still out. (Interestingly, Jaynes also speculated that because both schizophrenia and religious experiences tend to involve “hearing voices”, both are the product of a malfunction of hemispheric dominance. As I worked on the book I spoke to religious friends who said they’d heard God’s voice; all described it as so loud and clear that they were startled that those around them didn’t hear it as well.) But in any event, the idea gave me a solution that was not a cheat: In The Rage of Achilles, the gods appear not as actors, but as hallucinations driving men to act, often not in their best interest. And it also allowed me to portray Odysseus as what he may have been-the first modern man, who realized that the voice in his head was only his own.



Another question was one of detail. I had in mind two opposite models, both favorites: Gore Vidal’s Julian, in which most attention was focused not on appearance or the mechanics of daily life in early Byzantium but the political, religious, and military considerations that occupied his character’s minds; on the other, George Garrett’s The Death of the Fox, so effortlessly rich in period that it might be a text. Here the decision was made for me by the comparative poverty of knowledge of Bronze Age Mycenae. If I were writing about Marlborough’s wars it would be easy enough to go to a museum to look at a dummy in russet velvet with a Steenkirk cravat stuffed through a buttonhole trimmed with Brandenberg braid. But Troy three thousand years ago? Not so much. So my decision, ultimately, was to allow the story itself, rather than the period in which it is set, to control the book.



Oh yeah-sex and violence. In the original the former appears not at all; the latter is as stylized as Kabuki. As to the latter the work’s first audience knew what war with edged weapons was like-been there, done that-so it was unnecessary for the bards to describe it. We, fortunately, don’t know what it feels like in the shoulder to pry a sword out of a head you’ve just split open. So in order to recreate the immediacy that the work first had I had to imagine it. Let me hasten to emphasize imagine-no headless corpses in my freezer. As to the former, the original was driven by sex: Paris, after all, didn’t commit the unspeakable crime of a breach of hospitality and kidnap Helen to gaze at her from afar. Boy wanted her, bad. And of course the relationship between Achilles and Patroclus has been sanitized beyond reason, as though anything but what it was would have been natural in a bisexual cultural that had had an army on a foreign beach for ten years. All that said, the Iliad is a story of almost indescribable richness and humanity. I can’t hope I’ve done it justice; I do hope I’ve done it no offence.

Terence Hawkins was born in Uniontown, Pennsylvania, and graduated from Yale. His work has appeared in Poor Mojo's Almanac(k), Keyhole, Pindeldyboz, Ape Culture, Eclectica, Megaera, the Binnacle, and the New Haven Register. It has also appeared on Connecticut Public Radio. He is a trial lawyer in Connecticut. You can visit him at: http://terencehawkins.net/.

Book Trailer Sunday: CLEOPATRA'S DAUGHTER

Sometimes, an author really gives us a cinematic trailer! My dear friend, the fabulous Michelle Moran, author of the national bestseller Nefertiti and its stand-alone sequel The Heretic Queen went the Hollywood route for the trailer for her most recent novel, Cleopatra's Daughter. This trailer is like a mini-movie, with live action, costumes, and sets. Enjoy!