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Online Workshops — too much ?

I’m due to give an online workshop with Colorado Romance Writers — in past years this has been very well attended (it’s the Show & Tell Workshop), but this year isn’t looking too full. And might well be canceled. They show other workshops they’ve held in the past couple of months as also canceled. Which makes me think folks are really tightening belts and budgets, and this falls under extras.

I’ve cut back on a few things–less trips, fewer lattes out, and really thinking twice before I buy a book (but I’m still buying and have hit a new streak of great reading).

But I’ve also seen writer contests struggling, pushing back close dates, entries dropping. So now I’m wondering if it’s a time crunch as well as cash–as in the second job take, or the extra work undertaken, or the stress of job shopping (can be hard on the muse, I know).

Maybe it’s due to just too many contests, too many workshops online, too much info floating about. There’s certainly nothing wrong with putting your head down and writing–much more can be learned from the doing instead of the learning. But I do wonder how this will shape the market, and future writers.

Horse Sense

Back a few years ago, I wrote this article for RWA’s Beau Monde’s newsletter. Since horse information doesn’t really go out of date, here it is again, for folks who need to write about horses.  Somewhat edited.

For those whose equine experience has been rather limited, this might offer some practical information you can use when your characters have to have some real horse sense.

General Horse Sense

The sexes of horses include: mare, stallion, gelding which is a castrated male horse.  Baby horses are called foals, with filly for a girl, and colt for a boy.  Horses usually mature between ages five to seven.

Horses are creatures of habit and herds.  Despite movies you may have seen, the herd is actually governed by a head mare.  The stallion is there to protect, she leads.

A horse would rather run from trouble than fight, and so a horse will only fight if it is cornered.  Horses are made into vicious animals only by abuse.

For a good source on horse behavior, I recommend Mind of the Horse by Henry Blake. It gives excellent information on a horse’s eyesight–which is designed to see long distances and up close for grazing, on how to read horse communication–which all occurs with nickers, ear positions, and posturing.

As creatures of habit, horses love to maintain the same pattern.  There are many stories of horses knowing the way home to the barn, of work horses doing the same work every day–even after they are retired.

Horses eat hay and grains, or what the English call “corn.”

Corn includes barley and oats.  Hays include oat hay, timothy.  They don’t feed much alfalfa in England, it’s a hay that grows wonderfully in the western states, but not so well in England. Horses do not eat straw–you hope not, at least. They are bedded down on straw.

Horses also come in all variants of brown, with true black and white being the rarest colors.  Horse colors sometimes have specialized names, such as: seal bay (a dark brown with black legs, tail and mane), liver chestnut (a dark red chestnut), roan (which can be blue or strawberry), dun (what we call buckskin in the States), and even piebald or skewbald (what we call paints).

Horses have four basic “gaits” or paces: the walk (a four beat movement), the trot (which is two beats), a canter (a three beat gait), and the gallop (four beats).

A fit horse can travel 25 – 100 miles in a day, at various paces.  The trick is to rest the horse with walking between.  It is possible to do more, but you will be putting stress on the horse, and could possibly damage him.

Speeds for horses vary, for it depends on the horses’ size, fitness, and what he is carrying.  A team of six horses pulling a light carriage will go faster and farther than a single horse pulling a very heavy wagon.  A good source for traveling times is to check mail coach times. 

Some useful terms to know include:  near side (left side), far side (right), hind quarters (back of the horse), forehand (front of the horse).

On a carriage, the leaders are the front team, and the wheelers are the back team.

Horses can be drive as a single horse, a pair, a four-in-hand (and that does mean holding all those reins in one hand), a team of six, a tandem (one horse in front of the other), or Unicorn style (three horses, one in the lead, two as wheelers).

English equipment also has its own vocabulary, and so it’s important to know the English words (rather than the western phrases).

To ride, you would use: saddle, girth, bridle, bit, and stirrups–which are made up of stirrup irons and stirrup leathers.  The back of the saddle is the cantle, the front is a pommel.  There’s no saddle horn on an English saddle.

Do keep in mind that riding styles have change over the last two hundred years.  Modern English riding comes from the forward seat, developed in the early 1900’s.  We ride with a shorter stirrup, leaning “forward” to go with the motion.  Riders of the 1800’s leaned back and rode with long stirrups that kept their seat in the saddle–even jockeys rode sitting down square on a horse’s back.  Studying sporting prints of the era will give you lots of information– but make sure the drawings are not caricatures.

In the stable the horse wears a headcollar (not a halter, as we call it in America).

A carriage horse is in harness, usually between carriage shafts.

The aides to control a horse include the legs, meaning the calves and heels.  Voice (cluck or whoa, not giddyup), hands, the whip and spur.  A hunting whip actually is a special design with a crook on the end to open gates, and whip points on the end you can change to actually use to control the hounds.  The whip is not actually used to whip the horse.

A lady will often use a whip to give commands to the horse on the ‘off’ side, since her legs hang down on the ‘near’ side.  The whip here is used to just tap the horses’ side.

Horses have been bred for specific function for centuries.  There are hundreds of breeds, but there are also some generic terms for horses used for specific purposes.

Hack – a city riding horse, can also be called a cob.

Hunter – a strong boned, good jumping horse.

Carriage Horse – a strong horse with showy action (not necessarily rideable, or a good ride).

Ladies’ Horse – a comfortable, smooth riding horse.

Now, how much would a good hunter or hack cost you in Regency England?

To put it into perspective, think of horses as cars–the more status, the more they cost.

John Tilbury of Mount Street in London offered a horse for rent at 12 guineas a month.  For 40 guineas, you could get two hunters and a servant.  (He also gave his name to a carriage he designed–the Tilbury.)

The average value of a coach horse in the Regency era was 20 pounds.  A hunter or race horse might go for anything from 20 pounds to 1,000 guineas.

On 5,000 a year, family could keep 22 servants, 10 horses, and three carriages–so long as they weren’t spending 1,000 guineas per race horse bought.

Carriages were even more expensive than horses.

In Northanger Abbey, Mr. Thorpe enthuses over his new curricle, boasting: ‘Curricle-hung, you see; seat, trunk, sword-case, splashing-board, lamps, silver moulding, all you see complete; the iron work as good as new or better’ — and all for fifty guineas.

Chandros Leigh, a distant cousin of Jane Austen, obtained an estimate for a fashionable landau in 1829; the price of the basic carriage was 250 pounds, which included, ‘plate glass and mahogany shutters to the lights, and plated or brass bead to the leather, lined with best second cloth, cloth squabs, and worsted lace….

The ‘extras’ he ordered, including footman’s cushions, morocco sleeping cushions, steps, silk spring curtains, his crest on the door, embossed door handles and full plated lamps brought the cost to 417 pounds, 11 shillings and six pence, but he was given 60 pounds in exchange for his old carriage.

But what is the difference between a hack and a hunter, or a race horse?

Many of the modern horse breeds existed in the Regency.  General horse breed types include:

Ponies – less than 14.2 HH – often used by ladies in pony carts or carriages, or for packing goods — they’re smart, sturdy, good ‘doers’ (they get fat on very little food)

Cobs — Often a cross with TB and Pony — usually 13 – 15 HH – often a ‘hacking’ horse, or a light city riding horse.

Cold Blooded Horses – Draft horses.  Used mostly in farm work, and later in factories.

Warm Bloods – Often crosses of Hot Blood to cold Blood.  Used as carriage horses, and good military horses, for pulling cannon and what not.

Hot Bloods — Arabian and Thoroughbred.  Used for racing, and in general showing off.  Arabians were very exotic as they were hard to come by.  They tend to be smart, sturdy horses with great endurance.  When crossed with English mares, they produced tall, athletic horses which we’ve come to know as Thoroughbreds.

All Thoroughbreds trace back to three breed establishing stallions.

The Darley Arabian, Manak, came to England in 1703.  I actually lived in the house owned by the family who had imported him. They had a life-size portrait in the main hall.  The portrait seemed a little stiff, and that was because it was traced directly from the horse–after he had died.  He was quite a small horse, even by today’s standards of Arabians.

The Godolphin Barb came from Paris to England in 1738.  He was a gift from the Bey of Tuins to Louis XV, but he was ill-valued and ill-treated and sold off as a cart horse.  Eventually was sold to Lord Godolphin, who took him home to England and set about producing excellent race horses.

The Byerley Turk–most likely an Arabian–was a war-horse acquired by a Captain Byerley. 

These stallions produced, when crossed with English mares Matchem, Herod and Eclipse–racing stallions who can also be found in the ancestry of every Thoroughbred. 

The Racing World

Racing in the Regency was only for the very rich.  The Prince Regent’s racing stud farm came to cost him 30,000 pounds a year.

While racing can be traced back as far as English history goes, it’s modern form really comes out of the 1700’s.

In 1711, Queen Anne established regular race meetings at her park at Ascot.

Racing continued rather unorganized and unregulated.  Gentlemen organized races for themselves, often “matching” particular horses against each other.  By 1727 a regular Racing Almanac began to be printed.

Flat and jumping races were also held for women only.  Mrs. Bateman wrote in 1723, “Last week, Mrs. Aslibie arranged a flat race for women, and nine of that sex, mounted astride and dressed in short pants, jackets and jockey caps participated. They were striking to see, and there was a great crowd to watch them. The race was a very lively one; but I hold it indecent entertainment.”  This sort of attitude continued, but those women–such as the infamous Letty Lade–who did not care about their reputations rode and drove to please themselves, but they were the exception in the Regency world.

Around 1750, the Jockey Club comes into being, as a loose organization founded by gentlemen who regularly met at the Red Lion Inn at Newmarket. By 1758 the first regulation–for the weight of jockeys–was issued and the Jockey Club became responsible to the Crown for its organization.

In May of 1779, the first Derby was held.  Initially, it was called “The Oaks” after the name of the hunting Lodge in Surrey, owned by the then twenty-seven-year-old Edward Smith-Stanley, 12thEarl of Derby.  It became “The Derby” after the Earl won the coin toss to see whether the race would be named after him or Sir Charles Bunbury. Bunbury got his revenge in that his horse–Diomed–won the first Derby in 1780.

In 1791, the Jockey Club issued the “General Stud Book”, and by the early 1800’s Jockey Club stewards were at every racing meet.

In 1807, George III gave away the first gold cup at Royal Ascot. Also that year, Prince George quit racing after there was an accusation that his jockey, Sam Chiffney, was involved in dealings to fix a race.  The prince was never a good looser.

Racing meet sprang up– and still run–at Newmarket in April and October, York in May, Epsom, Ascot in  June, Goodwood, Doncaster, Warick, Manchester, Liverpool, Chester, Cheltenham, Bath, Worcester, and Newcastle.

Assize-week was the time for races, for it was when the gentry came into the chief town of the shire for trials, for selling harvest, and for races.

Steeplechasing–or what we know as races over fences–started off much slower and less organized than flat racing.

In the mid 1700’s, steeplechases were literally races between one church steeple to the next — over whatever lay in between.

By 1792 a race for 1,000 guineas was recorded near Melton Mowbray to Dalby Wood, covering about nine miles.  But it was not until the 1840’s that Steeplechases began to be held over organized courses.  They tend to remain informal races between individuals who want to try out their own hunters.

In both flat racing and Steeplechasing, do remember that England races clockwise–not counterclockwise as are horse races in the US.

But fox hunting is very similar to both the US and England.

In the Country: Hunting and Hacking

The record of the oldest English foxhunt dates back to mid 1600’s and the second Duke of Buckingham, who hunted the Bilsdale pack in Yorkshire dales.  November to March is fox hunting season.  It starts after the fall of the leaf…. it’s when the fields lie fallow. And it ends after the last frost and before the first planting.

Each hunt is composed of a Master– usually the man who owns the hounds.  The Master may employ “whipper-ins” to help keep the hounds together.  Hunting is informal in the 1700s–anyone can join in to follow the hounds (as in that wonderful scene from the movie Tom Jones when the Squire cannot resist the call of the huntsmen’s horns).  Those horns are actually signals to the other huntsmen and the pack as to where the fox is headed.

The Duke of Bedford’s hounds hunted actually stags until 1770’s.  But by 1780’s fox hunting took over in popularity. Enclosure Acts and reduction of forests mean less stag hunting.  And hare hunting was generally regarded as more a necessity of country life.

Hunt territories varied widely. The fifth Earl of Berkely hunted an area from Berkley Castle to Berkley Square, stretching 120 miles.  Most hounds were kept by rich individuals, and they often invited local farmers to hunt with them, for very often you depended on the locals allowing your hunt access over their farms—there’s still no way to predict which way a fox will run.

By 1810, there were only 24 subscription packs–or packs that you could pay to belong to and hunt, as opposed to requiring an invitation from the Master.  But this would double, so that by the mid 1800’s hunting became a more a matter of ‘subscribing’ in exchange for the right to hunt with the pack.

The golden age for hunting in Leichesterchire is 1810 – 1830.  This starts off with Hugo Meynell, who hunted his foxhounds from Quorn Hall in Leicstershire from 1753 to 1800.  His record run was 28 miles in two hours 15 minutes.

During this time, there’s as many as 300 hunters stabled in Melton Mowbray–with some gentlemen keeping up to 12 hunters.  You could hunt six days a week with the still famous packs–the Quorn, the Cottesmore, the Belvoir, the Pytchley.  Lord Sefton, Master of the Quorn from 1800-02, went through three horses a day–which is why you might need a dozen horses.

Ptychey’s record run was in 1802, when the pack covered 35 – 40 miles in four and a quarter hours. With horse medicine being about the same as for people–horses were bled after a long, tiring day.  So the life of a hunter could be a short, hard one.  In Warwickshire, a hunter might fetch 200 – 500 guineas.  But in Leichestershire, a hunter could cost up to 800 guineas

Wellington’s officers took to hunting in their regimental scarlet coats.  These started to be called hunting pink (the story goes that this was after the tailor Mr. Pink, but there’s no evidence this is true).  Each hunt, however, has its own colors–a color of leather boot tops, coat color and collar color and even button design.   It’s said that Brummell never hunted past the first field, for he hated to get his white-leather boot tops muddied.

Ladies were also found in the field.  Mrs. Tuner Farley hunted for 50 years. Lady Salisbury was master of the Hatfield Hunt from 1775 – 1819.  She hunted old and blind, in her sky blue habit, with a groom leading her horse and yelling at her to, “Jump, damn you, my lady.” From 1788 to 1840, Lord Darlington hunted his own hounds four days a week in Yorkshire and Durham, with his three daughters and his second wife, all in their scarlet habits.

But between late 1700’s to about mid 1800’s, when the jumping pommel was invented for the side-saddle, ladies were more the exception than the rule, and they were more likely to be advised to “ride to the meet and home again to work up an appetite.”

Traditionally, each hunt always has a designated meeting place–a gate, or an inn, or even a house.  You meet, the hunt cup is taken–folks drink to stave off the cold.  You might meet around 11 and hunt all day–or until it’s dark.  Bad weather does not stop hunting–wet weather means the scent will be high (so long as it’s not pouring).  Ice can be dangerous–that’s when you get broken necks and legs.

A hunt really is lots of standing around, with bits of galloping to and fro.  Trotting from cover to cover, hoping to draw a fox.  Some hunts kept tame foxes they could let go if the day’s sport proved too slow.  Some areas had to curtail their hunting to allow the fox population to come back.

Hunting was always viewed as a sport for everyone, but the reality was that it cost money to keep a pack of hounds and hunt them.  However, anyone could take a horse and follow, if the master allowed it, and some followed the hunt  in their carriages.

In Town: Hacks, Carriages and Hyde Park

Carriages for country and for town were generally quite different in build, for they served different purposes.

This was the pre-mass-production era–everything was custom built, or was bought second hand.  Because carriages were often built to the owner’s specifications, they often acquired the owner’s name–as in a Stanhope Gig.  One of the main places to have a carriage built was Longacre in London.

Types of carriages included:

The Phaeton – four-wheeled owner driven vehicle fitted with forward facing seats.

The Gig – two-wheeled vehicles (Whiskey), built to hold two.

The Curricle – which acted as the “gig” of the quality, and was built to hold two, sometimes with room for a goom behind.

A Town Coach – could be drawn by one or two horses (a pair).

Landau – held up to four people, and was drawn by a pair.

Barouche – could be drawn by a pair, or a team (four or six horses).  Had an option for a driver, or for post boys to ride and control the horses.

A “Drag” was a slang term for a gentleman’s private coach. It was built much like a mail coach, and often used for race meetings or other outdoor events as it height and roof seats created its own grandstand.

In 1808, Mr. Charles Buxon founded the Four Horse Club, its members drove barouche carriages and so was also called the Barouche or Whip club.

Another driving club was the Four-in-Hand Club.  The club assembled at George St., Hanover Square and drove to Salt Hill to the Windmill Inn.  The pace was never to exceed a trot.  Lord Barrymore could often be seen driving his matched grays, and he was also one of the founders of the Whip Club as well a member of the Four-in-Hand.

In 1805, smaller coaches came into use and in 1823 the first Hackney cabs came to London. It was not until 1830’s, however, that the Handsome Cabs–those single-horse vehicles we know from so many movies–appeared in London.

With a fashionable carriage you might go driving in Hyde Park at five PM, the fashionable hour.   You might hire a hack to be seen riding, if you could not afford a carriage. Ladies often drove ponies.

Handling the ribbons was not for the unskilled, or the timid.  To drive a single horse is to have around 1600 pounds of muscles in your two hands. You begin to see why men have the advantage in shoulder strength.

It takes a fine hand not to drag on the horse’s mouth and make them hard mouthed, and yet to control the team, and it’s quite an art to drive a horse up in to the bit so that it doesn’t slip behind your control.  It’s not at all like driving a car, for a horse is always thinking ahead to how to get its own way about what it wants to do.

To see some great carriage driving, look for three-day event Carriage driving.  Drivers have to perform through Dressage phase for movement, a cross-country phase (where you see the grooms clinging for life to the carriage), and an obstacle phase. 

Getting Around: Coaches and Stage Travel

Riding in a carriage is also very unlike riding in a car.  It’s a good step to climb up into a carriage.  And both carriage springs and road constructions were being developed during the Regency–and were not without problems.

Sylas Neville’s diary, dated 1771, recorded a stagecoach journey on the London to Newcastle stage.  To travel the 197 miles Stilton to Newcastle took him two days, traveling day and night at a speed of about four MPH.  The speed was restricted by the road conditions.

By the 1780’s, private post-chaises could cover the distance from Bath to London in 16 to 18 hours.  But the Royal Mail coaches were much slower–until John Palmer put a plan forward for a special coach.

Palmer’s improvements produced a mail coach that left the Rummer Tavern in Bath on August 2, 1784 at four PM, and arrived at the Swan with Two Necks in London, before eight AM the next morning. They traveled 119 miles in less than 16 hours, earning the coaches names such as The Quicksilver.

Up to 1820, most coach horses were changed every 10 – 11 miles.  Thereafter, to get better speeds, they opted for even less distances, changing about every six miles.

Average speed could vary between 4 MPH for a slow coach or up to 12 MPH for a fast one.  16 mile an hour tits would be a team of four to six high-strung, well fed horses, and a fast, light private carriage that would only ‘be sprung’ over a short distance.

Problems on the road included mud, ruts, cast shoes, lame horses, broken wheels, dust, collisions, snow drifts, overturns, runaways.  On the stage or mail, when going uphill you might even have to get out and walk up the hill to spare the horses.

 However, a good road could do well.  As Mr. Darcy says in Pride and Prejudice, “fifty miles of good road was ‘little more than half a day’s journey.’  And the roads were so good to Brighton that they were often used for setting speed records.

Now, you might not be able to travel the Brighton road today in a carriage–at least not with as they did in the Regency.  But there are other ways to gain valuable experience by going out to take a few riding lessons or even driving lessons–and nothing beats hands-on experience for color in a book.

REFERENCES

The Ultimate Horse Book, Elwyn Hartley Edwards, Dorling Kindersley Horses and Horsemanship Through the Ages, Luigi Gianoli, Crown Publishers
Horse & Carriage; The Pageant of Hyde Park, JNP Watson|
A More Expeditious Conveyance; The Story of the Royal Mail Coaches, Bevan Rider
The Encylopedia of Carriage Driving,Sallie Walrond
The Elegant Carriage, Marilyn Watney
Fox Hunting, Jane Ridley
Hints on Driving, Captain C. Morley Knight
The Young Horsewoman’s Compendium of the Modern Art of Riding, Edward Stanley
Records of the Chase by “Cecil”
Nimrod’s Hunting Reminiscenses

What can be taught?

Just finished up an online workshop — it’s like teaching with a paper bag over your head.  You want to see your student’s eyes, to see if they’re getting it, but you have to go by emails (always a tricky medium to use).  There are times I feel as if I’m too harsh, but then it’s compressed teaching (lots over info over 8 posts), and that’s always harsh.

And workshops always lead me back to wondering if there are some things about writing, about story telling, that can’t be taught.

I’ve heard some writers say there’s a certain something that a writer has or does not have–a talent–and if this lacking that person is never going to write a book that will sell.

On the other hand, I’m a great believer in technique and structure, and that if you have those two things, well, you may never hit the best seller list (that also requires not just talent, but luck), you can at least write a decent story that could sell.

But is there a certain something beyond technique, something that perhaps stirs a writer to write in the first place?  A quirk of mind perhaps that goes beyond the talent of putting words together?  Is there an innate skill with words that hits one person, but skips another?  An inner-ear perhaps for the rhythm in words, so that someone might well be language-deaf the same way that someone can be tone-deaf, so that while structure and technique can be taught, that inner-ear will always be missing?

Years ago, I had the luck to take a riding clinic from George Morris who went on to coach the Olympic team.  Brilliant rider–a classical rider.  Harsh teacher.  He never gave praise unless it was more than earned, and often could reduce someone to tears–but he was right. And you came out of his clinics a better rider.

He said that he’d rather have a solid technical rider over a brilliant natural rider. Because the technical rider always has those skills to fall back on–technique will never fail you.  But the brilliant rider will be brilliant one day, and then, the next day that brilliance may not shine–and there’s nothing then to save that rider from crashing and burning.

That’s stuck with me, and seems applicable to writing.

A writer with solid techniques–an understanding of grammar, story structure, scene structures, and how to build a character, show that character in action, and craft emotion into a scene–will be a solid writer. That writer may never be more than solid–but those techniques will never fail that writer. There won’t be brilliance that shines one day, and is dull the next (and that’s got to be a kind of hell in its own unreliable fashion).

So I think that maybe technique is enough–along with the burning desire to keep telling stories.

And I refuse to think that there’s anyone in this world lacking in imagination–that’s got to be hard-wired in our heads.

So perhaps there is a certain something that cannot be taught. There’s a gift that some folks have and it makes that person more than an average writer.

But there’s a place, thank god, for craftsmen in this world–for capable writers who can produce a good product on demand and on schedules.  And it’s not a bad place to be if it leaves you still writing.

April Online Workshop

I’m doing the Show & Tellworkshop online again for OCC–not sure it’s good that this seems to be a perennial favorite. However, I took a year off from giving this workshop, and that was good–time always gives perspective (and new things to say).

The interesting thing about this workshop is that most folks get how to “tell” a story, but don’t get that good “telling” takes as much work to craft beautiful prose as does good “showing” (or action).  In fact, I sometimes think a beautiful narrative passage is even more work.  This is a difficult concept to teach, because, it’s like music–you have an ear for it (language or music) or you don’t.  If you don’t there’s no teaching it.

It’s also interesting in that so many writers are hung up on having been told to show more that that’s all they want to focus on.  And the real trick to learn is not just to show, but to show the RIGHT things.  It’s not the details, the actions, that make a character–it’s the right actions.

The other interesting thing will be to see what mix is in the workshop.  There are always more than a few lurkers, which is cool, but it’s not like a classroom where you can look at the quiet ones and know which ones get it and which ones are struggling.  There are a few teacher’s pets who do every assignment and ask tons of questions but I sometimes have the feeling they’re too focused on doing it ‘right’ and that can defeat the point of learning.  There are the difficult ones, because email as a form of communication can leave much to be desired, and sometimes I wonder why these folks signed up for anything since they just seem to want to do things their ways. And then there are the surprises. That’s the best part of any workshop. We’ll see what this one brings.

Show & Tell Workshop

There is such a thing as teaching burn-out.  I’ve taught folks how to ride — and I miss that part of my life, and still plan to get back to it someday.  But these days it’s more about writing workshops.  The best part of any workshop is that it makes me rethink some of my own process.  However, when you find yourself saying the same things over and over, it starts to feel dull–which is why 2008 was the year of just say no to any workshops.  But I’ve already lined up a few for next year, and I’m actually excited.

The first one off is a “Show and Tell” workshop Jan. 5th thru the 16th for the Northeast Ohio Chapter of RWA. While I’ve given this workshop before, a year of space has given me time to rethink things, and I did a run through of this for the local LA RWA chapter, and that went well. It always interests me just how many writers do not have a clear idea between what’s the narrative voice, and what isn’t–and I think there’s a connection here between if a writer leans more towards instinct or analytics.  Instinct is good, but one thing I learned from one of the most brilliant riders I’ve ever known–George Morris went on to coach the US Olympic riding team, and he always said he’d take a solid technical over a brilliant instinctual rider.  He knew he could count on the technician to produce–that person might not give the brilliant rides, but the instinctive rider also has moments when instinct fails or goes wrong, and so there’s a lack of consistency in the performance.

Writing is a lot like that.  Instinct can fail–can take you the wrong way.  But solid technique–that can lead you to solid performance.  Which is why I lean more towards wanting a better understanding of craft.  I adore brilliant writing– but I also love a really well-crafted story with solid technique.  And if I can pass on a love and interest of that–well, hey, that’s not a bad thing, is it?

Because it’s not always about the writing — an etymology of titles

This article first appeared in The Regency Reader, and I’ve updated it recently. CLICK HERE to Download a PDF of the Updated Article, including Precedence Tables.
House of Lords 1809 from Ackermann's Microcosm of London
House of Lords, 1809 from Ackermann’s Microcosm of London
An Etymology of Titles We tend to think of dukes and viscounts as having always been in the British nobility. In fact, these titles came into creation at specific dates, often as the result of royals looking to reward a favorite. English nobility grew as a result of the crown granting a “Patent” which stipulated the degree of the title and how it could devolve upon the title-holder’s descendant. Knowing when a title was created can help understand its precedent. Two factors go into creating precedent: the rank of title, and the age of the title. The older a title, the more clout it carries. Therefore, a fourteenth marquess takes precedent over a fifth marquess, but not over any duke. For simplicity, let’s start at the crown and work our way through the English peerage by rank. King (pre-conquest): In Old English the word was cyng or cing. The Saxon tribes who invaded Briton used this word for their leaders. In Saxon days, this did not denote a hereditary title, merely someone of high status and noble birth who could be elected to power. After 1066, when William of Normandy brought over his feudal notions of inherited power, King became an inherited title for the ruling monarch. Queen (pre-conquest): The Old English equivalent to cyng is cwen. Again, we have a matching ancient Saxon title for a female ruler, or the consort of a king. England differs from much of the continent in that women can inherit the throne. This began in 1135, when Stephen inherited the throne through his mother, Adela, the daughter of William of Normandy. Prince/Princess (1200’s): The Normans brought the Latin and French; from them, in the early 1200’s, comes this title. Until James I (1603-1625), only the king’s eldest son could call himself a prince. After James, all sons and daughters of the King or Queen became a prince/princess. Victoria (1837-1901) went on to extended the titles prince/princess to all children of the sons of the ruling monarch (all grandchildren of the monarch through the male line). The Windsors are now moving away from this tradition, opting for lesser titles for the queen’s grandchildren. Prince of Wales (1338): Edward I conquered Wales in 1283, and his son Edward II, was born in Wales at Caernavon a year later, the first English ‘Prince of Wales.’ In 1338, Edward III made his son Duke of Cornwall, and would later confirm him Prince of Wales—a title that continues to this day. Duke/Duchess (1338): This is an ancient title in European countries, coming from the Latin, dux, for leader. William of Normandy, the Conqueror, is often called William, Duke of Normandy. But, an Old English chronicle of 1066, gives him an older Saxon title, Wyllelm, earl of Normandize. In England, ‘Duke’ remained a foreign title until 1338 when Edward raised his son from Earl of Cornwall to Duke of Cornwall. Despite traditions of romantic fictions, duke remains a rare title. Royal Dukes are those sons born to the ruling monarch. George IV’s brothers included the Royal Dukes: York (Frederick), Clarence (William), Kent (Edward), Sussex (Augustus), Cambridge (Adolphus), Cumberland (Ernest). The Prince Regent’s sister Mary also married William, Duke of Gloucester, who had inherited the royal title from his father, the younger brother of George III. Other than the Royal Dukedoms, there are 26 noble dukedoms, including: Argyll, Atholl, Beaufort, Bucclench, Buckingham, Devonshire, Grafton, Hamilton, Leinster, Manchester, Marlborough, Montrose, Newcastle, Norfolk, Northumberland, Portland, Portsmouth, Queensbury, Richmond, Roxburghe, Rutland, St. Alhans, Somerset, Wellington. At birth, a duke’s eldest son takes on one of his father’s secondary title as a courtesy title. And a grandson then takes one of the third, lesser titles as a courtesy. Marquess/Marchioness (1385): In 1385, Richard II created Robert de Vere–the Earl of Oxford–the Marquess of Dublin, thereby bringing the title into existence as a degree between Duke and Earl. The term comes from the Old French, marchis, for warden of the marches. The title wasn’t adopted into the Scottish peerage until the 15th century. As with a duke, the eldest son of a marquess takes on one of his father’s secondary, lesser title (if one exists) as a courtesy. Other sons and daughters are called Lord and Lady. This is a courtesy title, and so the title is attached to their given and family name. Earl/Countess (pre-conquest): The Old English for someone of property is eon. This is as opposed to ceonl, someone without property. Earldoms are perhaps the oldest English title, dating back several hundred years before the conquest. After William came along with his conquest, earl became equal to the Norman “count.” William tried to force the title “count” on the Saxons, but the word caught on only with the earl’s wife, who still bears the title countess. As with duke and marquess, an earl’s eldest son takes on one of his father’s lesser titles as a courtesy title. Daughters are style Lady—such as Lady Elizabeth Dabney—and retain that title if they marry beneath them. Younger sons are mere Honorables (but that title is never mentioned in any verbal address). Viscount/Vicountess (1440): In Old French the word is viconte, or in Latin vice comes–the deputy of a count. In 1440, Henry VI first granted the title to make John, Baron Beaumont, into Viscount Beaumont. However, the word had already been in use for almost a hundred years for an assistant to an earl—specifically for high sheriffs. There are no courtesy titles for any rank below earl, therefore the children of Viscounts are only known as “Honorables” (a style used only in writing and never in speech). And eldest sons of Scottish Viscounts are sometimes called The Master of (place name). Baron/Baroness (late 1300’s): The word comes from the Latin for baro, meaning a man. Specifically, this meant a man who was not a vassal or servant. From the time of Henry III (1216 – 1272), the King’s barons were summoned to the Great Council. These were men who “were summoned by a writ to Parliament” or men of important, and often military, standing. (It was the ‘Great Barons’ who forced King John to sign the Magna Carta in 1215– primarily to make sure they kept their own rights.) Richard II (1377- 1400) started to created Barons by patent. Baronet/Lady (1611): From the Latin for lesser baron. Historically, the term was applied to gentlemen summoned by Edward III (1327 – 1377) to the House of Lords (barons by writ, not by tenure). It also has been used to indicate barons of small holdings. The original term was Knight Baronet. The title did not come into formal existence until 1611. At that time, James I needed cash to hang onto Ulster, which the Irish wanted back. So James created a hereditary title, baronet, and The Red Hand of Ulster became their badge. Baronets of Scotland were created from 1625 until 1707, and Irish baronets were created until 1801, when acts of union passed respectively. A baronet is really not a member of nobility. He styles himself ‘Sir’ (no my lords here), and he does not hold a seat in the House of Lord. His wife is known as Lady (instead of Mrs.). Knight/Dame (1000’s): Knight comes to us from the Old English cnihht or in Old French cnihta. It’s original meaning is for a boy military servant or follower. After the conquest, the word shows up to denote a man, usually of gentle birth, who has earned the title by serving at court and training for the right to bear military arms (and therefore earn higher rank by fighting for the crown). By 1386, we have Chaucer’s “verray parfit gentil knyght.” And by the sixteenth century, the title began to be awarded for personal merit or services to the country. Knights are not members of nobility. And the title cannot be inherited. The title is given to an individual. A knight is known as “Sir” and his wife is usually “Lady” or “Dame.” A woman can be granted this honor and is then named “Dame” in her own right, but her husbands remains a mere mister. Listed by precedence, the British Orders of Knighthood include: — Knights of the Order of the Garter (1349) — Knights of the Thistle (1678) – exclusive to Scottish nobles — Knights of St. Patrick (1788) – exclusive to Irish nobles — Knights of the Bath (1399, revived in 1715)- first order conferred on commoners — Knights of the Star of India (1861 — Knights of St. Michael and St. George (1818) — Knights of the Indian Empire (1877) — Knights of the Royal Victorian Order (1896) — Knights of the British Empire (1917-1918) — Knights Bachelor – a knight who is not a member of any particular knighthood Edward III founded the “Poor Knights of the Order of the Garter.” It was a set group of 26 veterans of military service. Since Charles I the number has been fixed at 13 for the Royal Foundation and 5 for the Lower (now abolished), and a Governor. These men are military officers who are given, along with their title, apartments in Windsor Castle and small pensions. They are therefore known as Knights of Windsor. From 1797 to 1892, these Knights of Windsor could included naval officers. William IV officially made their title, Military Knights of Windsor. A FINAL NOTE: For those Americans confused by the inconsistent “of” that is sometimes included in a title, this preposition indicates a title that takes its name from a territory. The Duke of Kent is a title associated with Kent, the land. The preposition is omitted in titles that originated with the family name, such as for Baron Beaumont. All existing dukedoms are territorial titles. And the preposition “of” is never used for viscounts. The caveat to everything said here is that there are exceptions to almost everything. These are frequent enough to confuse, but rare enough to slip past the notice of most. Remember the notion of a monarch’s whim when creating titles—almost anything goes, but tradition is tradition because it is the most common method of doing anything. And you need good reasons to break that tradition. Particularly some of the traditions of nobility date back to before the conquest. Sources: Oxford English Dictionary, Compact Edition, Oxford University Press, 1971 Titles and Forms of Address, Black Ltd., 1929 ed. Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, Wordsworth Reference. 1970

Live Dangerous — read a Banned Book

It’s Banned Book week, and at least in the US we do mostly silly bans–we haven’t gotten to the point of throwing writers in Jail (yet). Amnesty International has a list of those who have had not just their words banned, but their lives. There’s also an excellent post on why this week matters over at Everybodyslibraries.com with a good summary:

“Banned Books Week is thus about twin freedoms: the freedom to write about what matters to you, and the freedom to read about what matters to you.”

But I like the quote from Philip Pullman best: “Destroying intellectual freedom is always evil, but only religion makes doing evil feel quite so good.”

A list of books banned at some point within the US includes some of my favorites:

A Wrinkle in Timeby Madeleine L’Engle
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Canterbury Tales by Chaucer
East of Eden by John Steinbeck
Fanny Hill(Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure) by John Cleland
My Friend Flicka by Mary O’Hara
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
Tarzan of the Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare

And then some how this shows up on the list: Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary by the Merriam-Webster Editorial Staff. Okay, what was someone thinking–smutty words?  Diabolical definitions?  I do love the idea that it’s not even the ideas, but the words themselves that somehow present a danger to young minds. (I am a dictionary junkie myself — I have four at home, including an OED.)  And somehow it’s fitting that there is book on book banning, Banned in the U.S.A.

So I say live dangerously and buy and read a banned book this week.

Other Past Events

The Regency Academe, “Breaking in with A Regency” an online class on writing and research

Los Angeles Romance Authors Speaking “The Black Moment”

Monterey Bay RWA Chapter,  “From Unpublished to Multi-published in One Year.”

OCC Workshop,  “The Golden Heart–should you enter?”

Beau Monde Regency Conference, “Horse Sense for Your Regency Characters”

The Learning Tree University, Irvine CA – “Using the Internet for Research”;  “Technical Writing”

UCLA Extension – Computer Game Design

Digital Video Conference 1999, 1998, 1997 – “When to Use Digital Video”

IGDN Conference, October, 1998 – UCLA, CA – With Sam Palahnuk, “Creativity is Dead”

Computer Game Developer’s Conference, May, 1998 – Los Angeles, CA – With Sam Palahnuk, “Do You Have What it Takes to be a Game Designer?”

American Children’s Interactive Conference, 1996

National Writer’s Association, 1996

Workshops 2004

October 2004 – OCCRWA Online Workshop – The Selling Synopsis

October 2004 Los Angles County Library Romance Workshop – Speaking with Jill Marie Landis, Susan Squires, Jackie Diamond, Linda O. Johnston, Linda McLaughlin.

September 2004 Authors Talk – Barnes & Noble, Valenca

August 2004  Ask An Author OCCRWA Chapter Meeting

Workshops 2005

October 12 to November 8 2005 – OCCRWA Online Class – “The Selling Synopsis”

July 7 – September 7, 2005 – UCLA Online Extension Class – “Chick Lit and Her Sisters: Writing Marketable Romance Novels”

July 27, 2005 – Beau Monde Conference, Reno, Nevada – “Historical Characters in Fiction”

May 2 – 31, 2005 – “The Selling Synopsis” – Earthly Charms Workshop

May 2 – 31, 2005 – “Show and Tell”- Eastside Romance Writers

April 15 – 17, 2005 – Historical Novel Society Conference, Salt Lake, UT

January 11, 2005 – Eastside Romance Writers, “Plotting From Character”, Bellevue, WA