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Monthly Archives: December 2007

Merry Christmas, to those of you who celebrate Christmas! And happy 25th of December to everyone else!

For quite a few years now, I have included a satirical “faux holiday letter” in my holiday cards — and as this year I have the honor of writing the Risky Regencies Christmas post, I thought that instead of sharing a lovely informative bit on Christmas in the Regency, or anything useful like that, I would post my silly letter instead. So here it is! Proof of just how weird I am…

CARA’S ANNUAL HOLIDAY LETTER IN WHICH SHE EXTOLS THE SUPERIORITY OF HER STUFFED CAT AND TELLS YOU ALL ABOUT PEOPLE YOU’VE NEVER MET BUT WHO ARE OBVIOUSLY WAY COOLER AND WAY SPIFFIER THAN ANYONE ON EARTH EXCEPT MAYBE CARA’S STUFFED CAT

Hello, O Fortunate Recipient of this yearly literary gem! Here is an abstract of all the clever things I did this year; the actual paper has been submitted to Phys Rev Letters and will be peer-reviewed as soon as they locate someone who will admit to being my peer.

JANUARY: I attend the annual Jane Austen Ball. The pleated hem of my Regency gown is so brilliant that it finds a solution to global warming. Unfortunately, someone steps on my hem while dancing Mr Beveridge’s Maggot, and the solution hits a snag.

FEBRUARY: I appear as Paulina in Caltech’s production of THE WINTER’S TALE. My wig is massive enough to nearly start a nuclear implosion. Todd’s wig, however, actually does implode, creating a quantum black hole. This quantum black hole travels back through time, turning things that should be benign into hugely destructive forces (e.g. squirrels, computer solitaire, and SUV drivers who tailgate while talking on cell phones and eating pastrami.)

MARCH: As the hottest new trend involves combining two different
popular genres (e.g. the recent television hits “CSI: Shakespeare” and
“Superman vs. the Sopranos”), I write several installments of “Austen Trek: or, if Jane Austen Wrote Star Trek” for my blog. My blogmates all pretend to enjoy these (their ecstatic compliments range from “that’s really just…bizarre” to “who’s Yeoman Rand?”), but Jane Austen threatens to sue.

APRIL: I pretend to work on my new young adult novel.

MAY: Having lived in our condo for almost five years, Todd and I decide to finally put our posters up. Exhausted by our bout of decision-making, we put off the actual putting-up for another five years.

JUNE: Todd and I visit Nice, but not before 2,306,973 people tell me that they hear it’s very nice there.

JULY: The new Harry Potter book is released, making Britain the world’s second-greatest economic power, right behind Walmart.

AUGUST: Todd becomes Associate Chair of his department. This takes up huge amounts of his time which might otherwise be used for important things like watching DVDs from Netflix and writing witty comments on my blog.

SEPTEMBER: We receive our millionth charity solicitation and billionth offer to refinance; we have now papier-mâchéd an additional room onto our condo, which would look perfect except that it really needs some posters on the walls.

OCTOBER: I attend what may be the last ever Genesis concert at the 18,000-seat Hollywood Bowl, which is followed by an exodus of incredible numbers of people trying to trample the Kings (and Rubins and a Brun), which leads to a few lamentations on our part. Crowd control at the Bowl must be an incredible job, but whoever judges that it’s okay for us to get mobbed like that is pretty ruthless, if you ask me.

NOVEMBER: Todd and I see Ian McKellen play King Lear. My favorite part is when Lear disinherits his annoying youngest child, Pippin, in favor of Frodo and Merry, but Todd’s favorite part is when Edgar pretends to be a mad creature named Gollum who wears nothing but a loincloth and a lot of dirt.

DECEMBER: Someone informs me that just because WGA writers are on strike doesn’t mean that there’s any reason for me to not write. My explanation of how my brain refuses to cross the picket line having failed, I am now procrastinating by doing important things like writing my holiday letter and talking to my stuffed cat.

There you have it! Until next year, I remain…Cara King.

And it’s absolutely true. I do remain Cara King. (Though come to think of it, I’m not really sure why; it probably has something to do with metaphysics…or maybe kilophysics…)

And don’t forget! Next Tuesday, we’re discussing the 1986 version of NORTHANGER ABBEY!!! So it’ll be a Northanger New Year’s Day!

Cara

Merry Christmas Eve!

I’m a happy little elf. My family are all well and we’re together. My niece and nephew are also in town, so we’ll see them for Christmas dinner at my sister’s house. I don’t have to cook (yay!). I’ll do dishes, but, since I’m convinced in a past life I was a Regency scullery maid in a fine English country house, dishes are no problem at all.

Other nice things….

Cataromance gave The Vanishing Viscountess 4.5 Stars! Here’s part of what the reviewer, the wonderful Debby, said:

“Looking for a book with passion, love, action, danger and surprises? Look no further; The Vanishing Viscountess is perfect for you. Diane Gaston will grab your emotion with this one. “

Oh that feels GOOD!

(here’s the whole review)

In my last-minute Christmas shopping expeditions I’ve visited two bookstores and in both, The Vanishing Viscountess was on the shelf! Over a week early. I turned them out so my hero’s bare chest showed to best advantage.


I also received my author copies of the UK edition of The Vanishing Viscountess. This is a special edition released to celebrate Mills & Boon’s 100th Birthday. Its embossed in gold and is as thick as a Diana Gabaldon book because it contains a free bonus book–The Mysterious Miss M.

You can order the UK version of The Vanishing Viscountess, if you are so inclined, either through Amazon.ca
Or Amazon.co.uk

And my little Christmas gift to you, a poem written by John Clare (1793-1864), an English poet who grew up in extreme rural poverty in Northamptonshire, rising from the working class to write some celebrated poetry, only to fall back into obscurity and madness at the end of his life. In recent years there’s been a renewed interest in his poetry.

I love this poem for its vivid description of an old English country Christmas.
(Warning. It’s long)


Christmas Time by John Clare

Glad Christmas comes, and every hearth
Makes room to give him welcome now,
E’en want will dry its tears in mirth,
And crown him with a holly bough;
Though tramping ‘neath a winter sky,
O’er snowy paths and rimy stiles,
The housewife sets her spinning by
To bid him welcome with her smiles.

Each house is swept the day before,
And windows stuck with evergreens,
The snow is besom’d from the door,
And comfort the crowns the cottage scenes.
Gilt holly, with its thorny pricks,
And yew and box, with berries small,
These deck the unused candlesticks,
And pictures hanging by the wall.

Neighbors resume their annual cheer,
Wishing, with smiles and spirits high,
Glad Christmas and a happy year
To every morning passer-by;
Milkmaids their Christmas journeys go,
Accompanied with favour’d swain;
And children pace the crumpling snow,
To taste their granny’s cake again.

The shepherd, now no more afraid,
Since custom doth the chance bestow,
Starts up to kiss the giggling maid
Beneath the branch of mistletoe
That ‘neath each cottage beam is seen,
With pearl-like berries shining gay;
The shadow still of what hath been,
Which fashion yearly fades away.

The singing waits — a merry throng,
At early morn, with simple skill,
Yet imitate the angel’s song
And chaunt their Christmas ditty still;
And, ‘mid the storm that dies and swells
By fits, in hummings softly steals
The music of the village bells,
Ringing around their merry peals.

When this is past, a merry crew,
Bedecked in masks and ribbons gay,
The Morris Dance, their sports renew,
And act their winter evening play.
The clown turned king, for penny praise,
Storms with the actor’s strut and swell,
And harlequin, a laugh to raise,
Wears his hunch-back and tinkling bell.

And oft for pence and spicy ale,
With winter nosegays pinned before,
The wassail-singer tells her tale,
And drawls her Christmas carols o’er.
While ‘prentice boy, with ruddy face,
And rime-bepowdered dancing locks,
From door to door, with happy face,
Runs round to claim his “Christmas-box.”

The block upon the fire is put,
To sanction custom’s old desires,
And many a fagot’s bands are cut
For the old farmer’s Christmas fires;
Where loud-tongued gladness joins the throng,
And Winter meets the warmth of May,
Till, feeling soon the heat too strong,
He rubs his shins and draws away.

While snows the window-panes bedim,
The fire curls up a sunny charm,
Where, creaming o’er the pitcher’s rim,
The flowering ale is set to warm.
Mirth full of joy as summer bees
Sits there its pleasures to impart,
And children, ‘tween their parents’ knees,
Sing scraps of carols off by heart.

And some, to view the winter weathers,
Climb up the window seat with glee,
Likening the snow to falling feathers,
In fancy’s infant ecstacy;
Laughing, with superstitious love,
O’er visions wild that youth supplies,
Of people pulling geese above,
And keeping Christmas in the skies.

As though the homestead trees were drest,
In lieu of snow, with dancing leaves,
As though the sun-dried martin’s nest,
Instead of ic’cles hung the eves;
The children hail the happy day —
As if the snow were April’s grass,
And pleased, as ‘neath the warmth of May,
Sport o’er the water froze to glass.

Thou day of happy sound and mirth,
That long with childish memory stays,
How blest around the cottage hearth,
I met thee in my younger days,
Harping, with rapture’s dreaming joys,
On presents which thy coming found,
The welcome sight of little toys,
The Christmas gift of cousins round.

About the glowing hearth at night,
The harmless laugh and winter tale
Go round; while parting friends delight
To toast each other o’er their ale.
The cotter oft with quiet zeal
Will, musing, o’er his bible lean;
While, in the dark the lovers steal,
To kiss and toy behind the screen.

Old customs! Oh! I love the sound,
However simple they may be;
Whate’er with time hath sanction found,
Is welcome, and is dear to me,
Pride grows above simplicity,
And spurns them from her haughty mind;
And soon the poet’s song will be
The only refuge they can find.

I feel like I can see these people and I’m sharing their day!

I wish our whole Risky family a happy holiday, filled with the joy, and peace, and love, and hope that is symbolized in this day. You all are a very precious gift to me!

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I have to admit–I haven’t read much fiction this year! The reason is simple. I’ve had tight deadlines, and when I’m working on my own stuff I avoid other novels. My ego is fragile enough as I try to finish a story, I don’t need a fabulous book giving me a breakdown. I would end up spending all my writing time sobbing “My book will never be as good as this! Never, I say!” So, I buy books and put them on my teetering TBR mountain, and save them for a bribe for finishing the book before deadline. Or at least on deadline.

On my romance TBR pile right now are: Janet’s Rules of Gentility (soon to be joined by Diane’s Vanishing Viscountess and Michelle Willingham’s Her Warrior King), Elizabeth Hoyt’s second two books of the Prince trilogy, Juliet Landon’s The Warlord’s Mistress, Kathryn Albright’s The Angel and the Outlaw, and Lisa Kleypas’s entire “Seasons” quartet (yes, I’m a bit behind). I’ve also been re-reading Mistletoe Kisses for the holiday season, which includes Diane’s novella Twelfth Night Tale. It’s perfect for escaping from modern-day holiday madness!

I’ve been mostly reading non-fiction, research type books, but there have been several real gems this year. I had to cut my list down to the Very Best, and here are just a few:

Janet Todd’s Death and the Maidens: Yes, yet another book about the Shelley circle, but Todd (who also has great bios of Mary Wollstonecraft and Aphra Behn to her name) centers her story on the rarely-seen Fanny Wollstonecraft, go-between, smoother-over, overlooked first daughter of MW, who killed herself at age 22. It’s also a meditation on the role of all women in this sphere, which makes me feel lucky to have only known them through books!

Janet Gleeson’s Privilege and Scandal: a biography of Harriet Spencer, Countess of Bessborough, sister and inseparable friend of Georgiana Duchess of Devonshire, mother of Caroline Lamb, lover of–well, lots of people. Her life in many ways mirrored that of her sister–turbulent marriages, massive debts, illness, travel, dramatic love affairs. All written in a riveting style that turns these long-ago lives into fascinating soap opera!

Lucy Worsley’s Cavalier: A Tale of Chivalry, Passion, and Great Houses: Worsley is Chief Curator of Britain’s Historic Royal Palaces (a job I envy deeply), this detailed book centered on the 17th century William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle, shows her work in every loving, lavish detail of his houses and all the people who lived in them. A fabulous resource for the period. (For more of this family, check out Katie Whitaker’s terrific biography of William’s author wife Margaret, Mad Madge)

Linda Colley’s The Ordeal of Elizabeth Marsh: I recently saw that the NY Times listed this as one of their Top Ten books of the year, which surprised me. Not because this isn’t a great book, which it is, but because I thought I had found a hidden gem, LOL! This book chronicles the obscure but extremely adventurous life of 18th century Elizabeth Marsh. She came from a seafaring family who rose to prosperity thanks to an ambitious uncle in the Admiralty. At 20, she was captured by Barbary pirates and nearly ended in the Morcocan sultan’s harem. She married a British merchant, and went through times of prosperity and high living followed by bankruptcy and a new life in India (where she spent 18 months touring the country in the company of a dashing officer who was not her husband!). And these were just a few of her adventures…

And Georgina Howell’s Gertude Bell, Queen of the Desert, Shaper of Nations: Another book about an adventurous woman! Gertrude Bell is not obscure like Elizabeth Marsh, but I find the details of her life fascinating. Born into England’s 6th richest family, she was a poet, historian, archaeologist, mountaineer, gardener, linguist, and politician who was vital in shaping the early 20th century Middle East (which also makes her story very timely for today).

As far as films go, for most of the year I was pretty disappointed by the movies I saw. Then, in the last few weeks, I’ve seen 4 great ones! Atonement, Juno, Enchanted, and the DVD of the Edith Piaf biopic La Vie En Rose. All very different, but all highly recommended. 🙂

So, that is my reading year in review! I just hope 2008 is just as great. What have been your own favorite reads this year? What are you looking forward to in the coming months??


Anyone who stops by on Friday knows that Organization is not my middle name (for the record, it’s Alyssa).

So trying to remember what media I’ve loved during 2007 is hard; as usual, I’m going to freestyle:

Meljean Brook had two amazing books this year: Demon Angel and Demon Moon. Wow. Brook writes intense, complicated, just insanely good books filled with terribly wonderful characters.

Not to be all sycophantic, but I also loved Jane Lockwood‘s Forbidden Shores. Who knew a menage a trois could be so fun? I really liked this one, and also Amanda McCabe‘s A Notorious Woman, which blends just the right amount of romantic angst, setting, and intriguing characters. Go us! (Note: I have Diane‘s Innocence and Impropriety yet to be read on the shelf, and I still haven’t read the Rules of Gentility, hence no props to them yet).

I continued my love for Elizabeth Hoyt with the Leopard Prince and The Serpent Prince. My biggest complaint about historicals these days is that they keep a distance between the reader and the story–not so Hoyt. Her writing is lively and fresh, and I love her flawed characters.

Although I didn’t love Lover Revealed and Lover Unbound as much as previous J.R. Ward books, I still devoured them like dark chocolate on a hot night. Yum.

This year, Myretta Robens introduced me to Julia Spencer-Fleming. The first book is In The Bleak Midwinter, and read this opening line: “It was one hell of a night to throw away a baby.” Wow. The series continues on, with a new hardcover slated for March, 2008.

Although their first collaboration was a DNF for me, I loved Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer‘s Agnes And The Hitman. Totally delicious, breakneck prose with crazy-fun characters.

Anne Stuart had two releases this year, only one of which I’ve read: Ice Blue. Not her best work, but still pretty damn impressive. Sign me up in the Stuart fan-girl list, for sure. I am saving Ice Storm for when I really deserve a treat.

Liz Carlyle‘s Never Deceive A Duke was up to Carlyle’s usual standards, which is to say the book was lush, dense, complex and compelling. I liked Never Lie To A Lady, too.

Of course, media means more than books (ha! See how clever I am?), so I have to say Eastern Promises was an amazing movie, not just for the nude Viggo scenes. I am loving the David Cronenberg/Viggo Mortensen collaboration (first in A History of Violence, now here), and Eastern Promises was easily the best movie I saw in 2007.

In music, Alice Smith‘s For Lovers, Dreamers & Me blew me away. She has as rich and soulful a voice as Alicia Keys, with some of the same earthy elements, but her soul is more elemental, less poppy. I can not stop listening to this record.

Also in music is stripped down hip-hop artist Lady Tigra, whose Please Mr. Boombox is excellent throughout, no fancy tricks or gizmos, just honest, basic beats with her skillful rhyming.

I know that once I publish this I’ll think of a baker’s dozen more media I loved this past year, but this was what sprang to mind this busy Friday morning. Thanks for sharing YOUR favorite media with us, too!

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I’m a steady reader since I have a commute by metro to work and also need to read before I can fall asleep at night, so it was hard to pick only a few books I enjoyed this year. I blogged on Mary Shelley’s birthday about Passion by Jude Morgan, and I can’t wait to read his next one, Symphony, about the love affair between Berlioz and Harriet Smithson (hint to nearest and dearest–it’s on my Amazon wishlist). I also loved The Lost Memoirs of Jane Austen by Syrie James whom the Riskies interviewed earlier this month.

OK, first, let’s get the literary crack out of the way. Read this hilarious spoof by the Smart Bitches and you’ll know what I mean–I find JR Ward’s Black Dagger Brotherhood series immensely entertaining, embarrassingly addictive, and I just about still respect myself in the morning. I can give them up any time I wahnt (a joke, not a typo). Same with Anne Stuart’s Ice books, where–what’s not to love–phenomenally good looking male operatives are trained to be so good at sex that they can make women do anything. And they do. Terrific escapist fun, both series.

My friend Robin L. Rotham published her first book Alien Overnight this year–it’s funny, sexy, and very well-written and has a hilariously over the top cover. Carry a big stick, har har. How’s this for a killer opening sentence: “Notice the slight emergence of the male’s accessory sexual organ, or what the Garathani refer to as a breeding spur.”

Well, what can I say. I’m in love with another species myself. I pooh-poohed the idea of dragons in the Napoleonic wars when Megan blogged about them last year, but I read all four of Naomi Novik’s fabulous Temeraire books in less than two weeks. I take it all back. These are a brilliant blend of fact with fantasy, and I’m absolutely in love with both Temeraire the dragon (whose neck fringes are infinitely better than Gerard Butler’s and everything is much much bigger) and the wonderful, gentlemanly Captain Laurence.

I also enjoyed new books by two favorites–Making Money by Terry Pratchett (check out the macroeconomic model in the basement of the bank) and Jasper Fforde’s Thursday Next–First Among Sequels. If you don’t know these two writers you’re in for a treat; Pratchett writes (sort of) satirical sci-fi; Fforde writes about an investigator for the Department of Jurisfiction in an alternative literary England. I’d suggest trying to read them in order, although Pratchett has a huge amount of books in print.

I was also thrilled that Jennifer Crusie and Bob Meyer’s second collaboration, Agnes and the Hitman, was right on the money; great, funny stuff, although I still can’t get used to the idea of Jennifer Crusie writing about the mafia. Maybe Bob wrote those bits. You really can’t tell, with such a seamless collaboration.

I discovered a new author, Fiona Neill, whose book Slummy Mummy is about that most hideous phenomenon, London yuppies in reproductive mode. As well as the obvious jokes involving high-powered women putting their formidable talents into child-rearing, this book had a lot of heart and wisdom. I recommend it highly.

I finally got around to a 2006 release, Mozart’s Women, about the women he loved and the music he wrote for them, and I desperately want the gown Nannerle his sister is wearing on the cover. Also in nonfiction, London in the Nineteenth Century by Jerry White, which was excellent, although disappointing in only very brief mentions of servants and the black population. I don’t think it’s available yet in the US.

And finally, The Elements of Internet Style for anyone who’s interested in literacy, books, the web, and where everything online and in print seems to be going. It’s entertaining and smart, and I wrote a section of it.

Have you read any of these? What’s on your wishlist?

All contests all the time. Check out what Pam Rosenthal is giving away in her contest; read an alternate ending to The Rules of Gentility and enter to win a prize at janetmullany.com.

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