Ask Annie...about Regency costume.

On the first Friday of each month, Novelista Annie Burrows will be drawing a question out of the jar where we've been putting all the questions about the writing process posed by readers.

This month, the question she chose to answer is:

"Your heroines wear lovely gowns. Do you make them up, or are they based on actual Regency clothes?"

OK, well, first of all, if you’ve read any of my books, you will know that I don’t, as a rule, put in a lot of detail about this sort of thing.  This is because I think it can detract from the story, and the action going forward if you keep breaking off to spend whole paragraphs describing a room, or an outfit.  I tend to use broad brushstrokes to suggest the era, or the scene, or even the clothes, and rely on the reader to fill in the gaps with their own imagination.  So that I can concentrate on the emotional inner life of my character, and the action going forward.

BUT…part of being able to create vivid, believable Regency characters comes from being historically accurate.  I have to know all about the background even if all I’m going to do is sketch it in briefly, or it won’t ring true, and will be a far less enjoyable read.

This is particularly true of clothing.  I have to know what a Regency lady would wear, so that love scenes can play out convincingly as the hero removes her garments one by one.  I need to know what type of corset she might wear, how her stockings were held up, and whether or not she wore drawers.  Not only will this place her firmly within the historical era, but it will also say something about her social status, and her personality, too.  Silk stockings, rather than cotton, for example, or a gown that laces up at the back, rather than the front will tell the informed reader (and most readers of Regency are very knowledgeable about the customs of the age) a lot about my heroine without me having to take another couple of sentences explaining whether she is upper or lower class, wealthy or poor.

I also sometimes zoom in on an outfit a heroine is wearing to help show how she is feeling.  “The Captain’s Christmas Bride” for example, opens with the heroine’s friend struggling to do up the laces of her gown.  A short cut to telling the reader she has body issues.

In the opening section of “The Debutante’s Daring Proposal”, the heroine is conscious of her frayed gloves and her muddy boots when the hero strides onto the page looking all expensive and elegant, to emphasise the differences in their social and financial status.

As on all other topics of Regency life, I have a few favourite books that I frequently consult to give me inspiration, or to help me describe an outfit convincingly.

Another thing I’ve done is to purchase a reconstruction of a Regency costume, to see what it would feel like to move around in long skirts.  I wasn’t surprised that my movements felt a bit restricted compared to the normal jeans and t shirt which are my usual everyday wear.  Long skirts are not very practical.  By the end of the day the hem was filthy.  It seemed to suck up dirt like a hoover.  Being cotton, though, it washed very well, and came up good as new.  However, it made me realise that keeping clothes clean would indeed need the services of a maid to do the laundry and ironing.  How on earth would you have been able to keep your clothes clean without the help of servants in an age without washing machines?  Wearing light colours had to have been a symbol of status.  Lower class women would surely have chosen darker colours that didn’t need laundering every day, or changing every day at least.  So all those debutantes in their pristine white muslin gowns were probably making more of a statement than just about their youth and virginity.

           One thing that did surprise me, though, was how warm the outfit was.  Everyone assumes that

wearing light muslin or cotton gowns must have meant that the women would have felt cold.  The gown I’m wearing in the picture was actually made up of two dresses.  An underdress and an overdress.  The outfit came with a full length cotton petticoat, too.  The underdress could have been worn on its own, but I chose to put on the top one as well on this day.  Once I’d put all three layers on, I was actually too warm, so had to (shock, horror!) remove the petticoat.  I didn’t buy a corset, since I was only out in Regency garb for fun, not to go on a re-enacting event where authenticity would have been more important, but I can imagine that had I been dressed in a shift, corset, petticoat, underdress and overdress, I would have jolly well needed to make use of a fan to keep me from sweating.

 A  properly brought up Regency lady would not have ventured out of doors without a bonnet and gloves, either.  (I did buy a bonnet, but went without the gloves – shockingly fast of me!)  What with all those layers, and a hat and gloves, I felt I could have survived the most inclement weather.  Or at least, I could have done with the addition of a spencer (short jacket) or pelisse (long coat)  Don’t forget that with full length skirts, you could wear pretty much what you liked underneath and nobody would have seen it.

Thick woollen stockings and boots in winter?  Probably.

So, I do study pictures of what Regency ladies wore, and I’ve spent a day wearing a reconstruction of the type of gown a Regency lady would have worn, so that I know how she would feel in it.

So that I can leave out the descriptions of gowns with a fair amount of confidence!


(I have considered buying my husband some male Regency garb, strictly for research purposes of course, but they are far more expensive than the female attire.  Especially the hats.)




Annie's latest release is "The Debutante's Daring Proposal" in which the heroine wears a variety of costumes which are rather daring, and which cause gentlemen to look at certain parts of her anatomy rather than her face when they are speaking to her.


It is available in paperback and ebook from Amazon...
 

Ask Annie: Prologue - Or Not?

On the first Friday of each month, Novelista Annie Burrows will be drawing a question out of the jar where we've been putting all the questions about the writing process posed by readers –

This month, the question is:

Beginning/Prologues?
Where in the story to actually start the novel.

The glib answer would be to quote Lewis Carroll “Begin at the beginning…go on till you come to the end: then stop.”

But, what is the beginning?  A pivotal moment in the character’s past, which forms their character, or sends them on their quest?  The moment they are born?

Beginnings are very important.  The opening section of your story is the bit which will be available to a reader in the “browse the book” section if it is an ebook, or what a shopper in a real life shop will read to help them decide whether to buy your book.

Or not.

So it has to grab them, and make them want to find out what comes next.  You have got to make them interested in your main character, and what they are feeling, and what is happening to them.  Or they will put the book down, and buy someone else’s.

And with so many new titles becoming available every month, they have a lot of someone else’s to choose from.

So, I would say, start your story at a pivotal moment.  If you write romance (as I do) it is a good idea to start when your hero and heroine first get together, or reach some kind of turning point, so that the focus is on the developing romance right from the start.  And makes it clear to the reader that the romance is going to be front and centre all the way through.

To give you some examples, I have started some of my books with:
The moment my heroine has to jump out of the way of the hero’s curricle, which he is driving far too fast down a country lane so that she ends up in a muddy ditch. (His Cinderella Bride)

The moment when the hero first asks the heroine’s friend to dance, and, when she refuses, turns with resignation to the heroine, setting her heart a-flutter. (Captain Fawley's Innocent Bride)

The moment when the hero and heroine wake up in bed, naked, with no idea how they got there together. (In Bed With the Duke)





And the one I have just submitted to my editor opens at the point where my heroine socks my hero on the jaw.

However, when planning out a book, I don’t start imagining the story at such a dramatic point.  The story which I’m figuring out at the moment, for example, began when I imagined the heroine in a situation which rocked her world, overturned everything she’d assumed about her life, and sent her spiralling into depression. I can’t start writing it from that point.  Because it will be months before she meets the hero, and their romance starts.  And it is the story of that romance I will be telling – NOT HER LIFE STORY.

So, I am going to have to tell the reader about that crisis in her life, in little bits and pieces, as she relates it to the hero.  They will both explain why they react as they do, and behave the way they do, to each other, in conversation, as the pair get to know each other.  In other words, the reader will get to know both of them while they are getting to know each other.

It would be much, much easier to write this story in chronological order, starting with the heroine’s crisis, taking her through her depression and the beginning of her recovery, and then relate how the romance with the hero completes the process of healing completely.  But would anyone want to read it?  Would the reader have the patience to wade through all that depression, and gloom, in the hope that a dashing hero would come into my heroine’s life and help her see that life is worth living?

And more to the point, would my editor?

So, these are a few questions you could ask yourself when deciding where to start your story.
What will hook the reader?
What will give them the best idea of what kind of story it’s going to be?
And, if like me, you have a pivotal moment in the character’s life which the reader really needs to know about – what is the best way to relay that information?  In one big chunk (which is sometimes referred to disparagingly as an info-dump)
Or, in little snippets, which will entice the reader to keep on turning the pages?  (And is much, much harder to write!)

And there you have it.

If you’d like to Ask Annie anything about writing, then please contact her via the comments section on this blog, or if you’d like to remain anonymous, you can contact her via her website:
 putting Ask Annie in the subject heading.

And if she feels qualified to answer your question, you might see it become the next month’s blog post!


Annie's latest release is "The Debutante's Daring Proposal."

You can read the opening section here

You can purchase it from Amazon, Harlequin, Mills & Boon or any of your favourite etailers.

Ask Annie: How to Write the Perfect Hero

You may recall that I've been taking questions from the Ideas Jar of late, and the most recent one I've received is this:

Following on from your post on point of view – how exactly do you approach characterisation between the genders?  i.e. male point of view and female.  How do you research the male psyche?

Well, I had to have a bit of a think about this question, because it immediately made me feel as if I ought to research the male psyche.

But after a bit, I decided to ‘fess up.  I don’t really hold to the prevalent view that men are from Mars and women are from Venus.  We are all from planet earth.  We all react to the trials and tribulations that life throws in our paths according to many factors apart from our gender.  Our personality, background, previous experience of similar situation, the state of our health, stress levels, or even whether we’re hungry or tired or just plain in a bad mood for some other reason.  And while I find articles like this one, that is supposed to highlight the difference between the way men and women think very amusing, I don’t believe it really does demonstrate basic differences between the sexes.

I don’t hold to the view that women, as a rule, would spend that much time dissecting their relationships – at least, not the kind of women I want to write about.

Nor would any hero of mine be so inattentive to the woman he is dating that he loses the thread of the conversation entirely.

When I write a hero, he will think, and behave, far better than that.  If he is going to be a swoon-worthy romantic hero, then he is going to have real goals, and a compelling motivation for thinking the way he does, for saying what he says, and for acting the way he does.  Because any heroine I write is most certainly not going to be feeble enough to fall for a man who is not worthy of her.

Having got that off my chest, I have to admit that when I write a story, I do tend to find it easier to imagine what my heroine is thinking and feeling, and often start by writing the romance almost entirely from her point of view.  And the hero I write for her has to be what she needs, specifically, rather than being a stereotypical hero in any way.

He also needs to have goals in which a modern reader can sympathise, and motivations that make sense.  He needs to be, first and foremost, a person.  A person that readers can relate to, and cheer for, and want to find a happy ever after.

Now that, actually, is where I do face having to make some tricky choices.  My hero needs to be the kind of man that will make a modern reader swoon, yet he also has to be a believable Regency male.  And because of the era in which he lived, he would have had a very different outlook in many ways, to a modern man.

Both he and his female counterpart would have known their place in the social hierarchy, which was much more rigid than ours today.  He might well have known what kind of life he would have lived, from his birth, particularly if he was born into the peerage.  He would have been closer to the land, more aware of the passing of the seasons, and familiar with handling animals.  He would have known how to ride horses and how to shoot pigeons, and would not have thought either pastime anything out of the ordinary.  He would have attended brutal bare-knuckle fights, and cock fights, but he would also have gone to church as a matter of course every Sunday, and been proud of being English (not British).  If he was from the upper classes he would have also had a working knowledge of Greek and Latin.  He would not have been ashamed of believing he was innately superior to women, (and most other men).  Nor would he have thought it unreasonable to pay a skilled man to spend his entire life taking care of his clothes, or spending a small fortune on getting a jacket that moulded to his shoulders, and breeches that outlined his fine, muscular legs.  He would also have consumed so much alcohol – since water wasn’t often fit to drink – that nowadays he might be deemed to have a bit of a problem!

And yet I still need to portray him as a person with whom modern day readers can empathise.

And so I draw a veil over the cock fights he attends, and don’t let the reader in on the fact that he probably consumes so much alcohol that he is slowly but surely pickling his liver.  Instead, I concentrate on his reaction to, and his treatment of, my heroine.

If ever he acts badly towards the heroine, the reader needs to see that his motives are not from sheer unpleasantness, but because he is damaged in some way by the blows life has dealt him.  And be able to believe that the heroine I write for him will be capable of bringing him healing, through the love he develops for her.  And that she bestows on him.

So, to sum up, when I write a hero, I want him to be believable as a character from his time period.

I want him to have the kind of character that a woman, from any time period, could find totally swoon-worthy.

And I also want him to be a perfect match for my heroine.

And it won’t hurt if he also looks like this!

Annie's next hero is Lord Ashenden, whose story will be told in "The Debutante's Daring Proposal" which is released in June, but is already available for pre-order through Amazon (and other retailers)

Whose line is it anyway? By Annie Burrows

On the first Friday of each month, Novelista Annie Burrows will be drawing a question out of the jar where we've been putting all the questions about the writing process posed by readers –

This month, the question posed by…(wait for it…yes, it’s Cheryl again!) is actually two questions:
1 How many points of view in a novel?
And
2 How to weave two or three points of view into novel – by Chapter?  Or paragraph?
The first question is easy for me to answer now, because I write for Harlequin Mills & Boon, who have very definite guidelines on this.

Because the stories feature a strong, central romance, the story needs to be told from the point of view of the hero and heroine.  To put anyone else’s point of view would take the focus away from the main characters, and have the effect of diluting the emotional experience.

 However, when I first started writing, I fairly often told sections of the (unpublished) stories from the points of view of all sorts of characters.  This would be ok for a lot of types of story.  For example, in thrillers there are quite often huge chunks of the story told from the point of view of a villain, sometimes an un-named and unknown villain who is gradually discovered by the hero and/or heroine.  And this works well.

But for romance, which is all about feelings, it is important to stick very closely to the main two protagonists, so that the reader gets quickly caught up and then swept along in their emotional journey.

The second question, about handling point of view, is a bit more tricky to answer, since it deals with the nuts and bolts of writing.

I don’t find that it is as simple as thinking, “oh, I will write this paragraph from Mildred’s point of view, and then have one from Derek.”  The action of a story usually plays out in my head like a film, first and foremost, so that I break down the action into scenes.  And, as in a film, sometimes the camera angle changes, so that the viewer (or reader) can see the action unfolding from a different perspective.

And generally, I will write a scene from the point of view of whichever character it affects the most.

So, a typical scene for me, since I write Regency romances, might deal with a marriage proposal, and its rejection by the heroine of my story.  If I want the reader to know why the dashing Lord Rothermere is so nervous about going to propose to plain and plump, and immensely wealthy Miss Grinling, I would open the scene from his point of view.  He is worried about his six younger sisters, the tenants on his estate, and his mother who is prostrate with her nerves after learning that his father gambled away all the money.  He knows Miss Grinling – the daughter of a wealthy merchant - has been half in love with him for as long as they’ve known each other.  And he assumes she will be thrilled to finally get a proposal of marriage from him.  By getting inside his head at this point I would get the reader rooting for him.  We admire him for sacrificing himself for the sake of his family, and hope he succeeds.  And we can then feel his shock and dismay when Miss Grinling turns him down in a cold, almost hostile manner.

At this point, as a writer, I have two choices.  Either to continue in Lord Rothermere’s point of view, or to switch to Miss Grinling’s.  If I were to stay inside Lord Rothermere’s head, though, I would run into the danger of making Miss Grinling seem unsympathetic.  All we would see would be the devastating fate that Lord Rothermere foresees for his family because of her refusal to bail them out.

So, even though the proposal, and refusal, may have only taken a few sentences, it is important to see why plain, plump Miss Grinling has turned down a flattering proposal from a man who is far above her, socially.

And learn that she has, indeed, been in love with Lord Rothermere ever since she first went to live in the village of which his father was the local lord.  And how painful it has been for her to watch him flirting with all the prettier, better-born girls in the area, whilst never being more than polite to her.  Since the death of his father, she has also learned of his ever more desperate attempts to rescue his family from the results of his father’s gambling.  Far from finding his proposal flattering, she is deeply hurt that he has only come to her as a last resort, particularly since his attitude is that of a man making the ultimate sacrifice in lowering himself to her level.

I have to be ultra careful when changing from one character’s point of view to another in such rapid succession, to make sure that the reader will know exactly who is doing the thinking, and talking.  With talking, it is easier, because I can always put “he said” after any comment, so that it is clear who has just spoken.  But making it absolutely clear who is doing the thinking can be trickier.

One way to make it clear that there has been a point of view change is to put a gap in the text.  However, when it is a scene such as this, putting breaks in the text every time the viewpoint shifts would look very odd.  So it has to be done through the actual writing.  One neat way to do this is to change the viewpoint immediately after someone speaks.  So, for example, there can be a section from the hero’s viewpoint, at the end of which he can say something like, "And that is your final answer, Miss Grinling?”
And then it almost invites the reader to look at Miss Grinling, to see what she is going to reply.
And I can make the transition by putting something like:
Mildred had an answer ready on her tongue.  “It is,” she declared grimly.  Because there was no way she was going to agree to marry a man who would never, and had never respected her.

From that point, I could delve into Mildred’s shared past with Lord Rothermere from her standpoint, so that the reader will see exactly why she has turned him down.  She can foresee only hurt if she marries a man she loves, who will probably carry on flirting with prettier, better-born women because all he wants from marriage is her enormous wealth.  Had he only given the slightest hint that he felt even the tiniest bit of affection, or even respect for her, her answer might have been different.
In this way, during the course of one scene, the conflict has been set up between two characters, both of whom the reader understands and wishes well.

Next question!

Annie's latest release is a novella in an anthology of Regency set Christmas stories:

E is for...Editing by Annie Burrows

Novelista Annie Burrows is writing a series of short articles about the things she's learned since becoming a published writer.  And presenting them in alphabetical form, for some obscure reason known only to herself.  This month, she's reached the letter E...

I'm never satisfied with what I write.  I even go through my emails a couple of times before hitting "send" to make sure I haven't included any typos.

But that kind of pernickety attitude is essential for anyone who wants to become a published author.

I don't think anybody can sit down and create a brilliant book in just one draft.  I certainly don't know anyone who claims to have done so.  But every author I know has a slightly different way of getting their writing up to a standard they feel ready to publish.

Some people edit as they go along.  At the start of their writing day they will read over what they wrote the day before, and only move on when they're satisfied with the quality of the prose.

That approach has never worked for me.  I get so bogged down in the grammar, spelling, and so on that the story usually grinds to a halt.  On my first draft I have to just write the basic outline of the story as fast as I can, before I lose control of where I want the characters to go.  At least, that is what I aim for as I write.  But whenever I print out and read back this first outpouring, I nearly always end up clutching my head in despair.  Because what I thought was a brilliant story turns out to be an absolute mess.

However, recently I've discovered that others have a similar experience.  And have even coined a phrase to describe the method.  It's known as the "sandbox" approach.  Basically, my first attempt to tell a story is like flinging a great mound of sand into the sandbox.  It's shapeless alright - but I have everything I need to create a fabulous fairytale sandcastle once I set to with a bucket of water and a spade!

 OK - I've got my heap of sand.  How do I turn it into my fairytale castle?

Well, basically, I want the story to flow from beginning to end.  I want to build tension, to keep a reader turning the pages.  I want every sentence to drive the story forward, whilst showing the reader something about the leading characters.

But exactly how can I achieve this?  You have all heard the adage that you should "show, not tell."  But you need to be careful not to overdo the little "tells" you think add to characterization.  It's all very well having

your heroine twirling a tendril of hair round her finger to denote how nervous she is, rather than just saying "she was nervous".  But if you have her twirling her hair every two or three pages she'd going to become tiresome. (Likewise - the hero shouldn't be grinding his teeth at the slightest provocation.)

Setting the scene is important to draw your reader into the world you've created, but over-long periods of description really slow down the pace.  I'm jolly glad I discovered this, because I'm not very good at descriptions.  When I first started trying to write books, I used to sweat for hours over details of a house, or a room.  Nowadays I just tend to give the hero or heroine's impression of their surroundings, how it affects their mood perhaps, and leave the reader to fill in details for themselves.

Some writers will advise you to leave a manuscript for a week or so before reading it over, so that you can come to it with a fresh eye.  This may work for some of you, but again, I have to confess it's not a technique I find terribly helpful.  You see, I tend to see what I think I've written, rather than what I have actually typed.  Printing it out, so that I'm looking at my work in a different medium from the computer screen, does help me to spot some mistakes and weaknesses.  But nothing is as effective as reading the story out loud.  If my tongue gets tangled up, that is how the sentence will feel to a reader's eye.  And if I say it differently to how it appears on the page, I change the text to how I said it - that makes for an easier, smoother read.

And yes, going over and over and over a manuscript before sending it off to a publisher does take some patience.  But I've heard the act of creating a publishable story likened to reducing a fine sauce for a fine meal.  And everyone knows you can't make a good béchamel, in a hurry.  You get lumps.

And who wants a lumpy novel?

 Annie's next book is "Lord Havelock's List"

If you'd like a chance to win an advance copy, and judge for yourself whether her story is a lumpy sauce, or a fairytale sandcastle, she is running a giveaway on Goodreads, with 3 copies on offer, starting Saturday 2nd August 2014.