Tag Archives: Historical Fiction

Book Reviews: Historical Novel Society

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I am pleased to announce in February I will begin writing eBook reviews for the Historical Novel Society.

Please visit the Historical Novel Society Indie Book Reviews page at:  http://historicalnovelsociety.org/reviews/?type=indie .

About the Historical Novel Society:

Founded in 1997 the HNS was conceived to campaign for the literary genre of historical fiction.  Two magazines were developed for this cause:  Solander(no longer being published as of 2011) and Historical Novels Review.  To date, the HNS has reviewed 5,272 historical books, making it the preeminent clearing house for historical fiction in the English language. These reviews and 108 featured articles can be viewed online at: http://historicalnovelsociety.org/.  As an international society HNS aims to review all US and UK mainstream published titles, and as many other historical novels written in the English language worldwide, along with the desire to eventually cover foreign language titles as well.

The organization is based in the UK and USA and membership is open to the world — to anyone with an interest in historical fiction: readers, writers, publishers, editors  ̶  yes everyone!

In addition to the review print magazine and online reviews, the HNS facilitates writers’ conferences and social media groups, creating spaces to bring together the excitement, knowledge, exchange, and love of historical novels.

For more information visit:  http://historicalnovelsociety.org/

The Next Big Thing

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I’m delighted to have been introduced to The Next Big Thing — an author blog hop — by the passionate writer and book reviewer Darlene Elizabeth Williams whose blog reviews the latest historical fiction.  Visit her site to read engaging book reviews and learn about her books…

Before moving on, I would like to talk briefly about these words “The Next Big Thing” as initially I have issues with giving power to them. For what is “big” to one person is “insignificant” to another.  What matters is to follow our calling, to express, to share, to explore — to write.

With this said...a few words by author Marianne Williamson:

(label, substitute, and call “God” what you want– for me it is the ‘Infinite Energy of the Universe’)

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” – A Return To Love: Reflection on the Principles of a Course in Miracles 

I have been asked the following questions: 

1. What is the working title of your book?

CUT FROM THE EARTH

2. Where did the idea come from for the book?

The idea came on a solo painting trip I took to the Peruvian Amazon in 2006.  To read the whole story click here!  The Story Behind the Story

3. What genre does your book fall under?

 Historical Adventure/Thriller w/Magical Realism

4.What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition?

Johnny Depp, George Clooney or Antonio Banderas as Piloto; Robin Tunney or Penelope Cruz as Paulina; Will Smith as Babau; I am still mulling over who would play Makiki…?

*It would be ideal to cast Portuguese and Brazilian actors for the parts but I don’t know which ones! So, I’ve stayed with names I am familiar with for now.

5. What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

CUT FROM THE EARTH is a story of mid-eighteenth century Portuguese tile and of love —  defying gender and class  —  The Great Lisbon Earthquake  — and the wisdom of nature and the power of love to guide and  heal.

* For more information visit my blog’s  Historical Novel page and read the excerpt.

6. Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

 Currently, my plan is for the book to be represented by an agency.

 7. How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?

I wrote the first draft in roughly 6 months in 2010. But this is after spending 4 years learning Portuguese to do the research.  During this time and throughout the writing/rewriting process, I read and researched the history of the time period and traveled to many of the places where the book voyages.

8.What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

CUT FROM THE EARTH has similarities in storyline and subject matter with historical thriller/adventure novel Pompeii by Robert Harris, while blending with the artist based historical novel, Claude & Camille by Stephanie Cowell. Also, think of the dramatic and atmospheric film The Mission.

9. Who or what inspired you to write this book?

CUT FROM THE EARTH is inspired by my love of Portuguese tile, the beautiful hardwoods of the Amazon, and to explore why one finds azulejos in the Amazon and Amazonian hardwoods in the churches and estates of Europe.  In addition, the story is inspirited by my desire to shine light on the often unheard voices and the contributions of minorities and females in the history of the arts.

10. What else about the book might pique the reader’s interest?

I think readers will be interested to learn about the real life event: The Great Lisbon Earthquake that struck Lisbon, Portugal on November 1st, 1755 , All Saints Day. When the vast majority of the city’s population was at church. The incident was followed by tsunami waves and mass fire. These disasters affected the whole of Europe in the eighteenth-century. Today, these historical events and what they triggered are little known, but the history is important and fascinating.

 

Readers will gain insight about the Mocambo: the predominately black neighborhood on the outskirts of Lisbon — uniquely in existence in a European capital since the sixteenth-century.

 

Figura de Convite, An Invitation Figure

And, art lovers  will be curious to learn about the eighteenth-century Portuguese  contribution to the art of tile making  —  the innovation of the figura de convite  —  a life-sized invitation figure that was placed at the head of stair landings and patios to welcome visitors.  What is special about this invention is that it is the first time in the history of tile making that the tile composition deviated from the square tile and embraced the outline of the cut-out figure, which opened up a plethora of new design possibilities. Had this not been developed, we may never have had the cardboard movie theater life-sized cut-out of Marilyn Monroe…who knows?

It’s my pleasure to tag the following three talented writers from varying genres in the order they will be posting on their blogs…to carry this blog hop forward:

T.C Paulson will post on January 12th 2013 –  http://succumbing.wordpress.com/  – A technical writer by day, a confessionalist poet and novelist by night — she explores imagination, spirit, and the anthropology of existence. Tsena writes about what she knows: pain, pleasure, suffering, peace, victory, loss, joy, demons, angels, daughters, mothers, lovers, and friends. She shares her poetry at open mics around the Pacific Northwest of Washington State, USA. Soak up her works at (you won’t be disappointed!) :  http://succumbing.wordpress.com/. Her current novels-in-progress are too secret to reveal at this time…

Andrew Shattuck McBride  will post on January 13th 2013 – http://andrewsmcbride.wordpress.com/ – Washington State-based writer and editor, Andrew has poems published or forthcoming in anthologies and journals including Platte Valley Review, Magnapoets, Caesura, Haibun Today, and Clover, A Literary Rag. He has edited four poetry collections and a historical novel.  Currently, he is working on a chapbook titled: Reclaiming Air: Poems; a collection of linked short stories; and a new project of  lyric essays.   To delight your senses and to enjoy word play visit Andrew’s blog: www.andrewsmcbride.wordpress.com or editor’s blog: http://yourwritingcoach.wordpress.com/ .

Christian De Benedetti will post on January 27th, 2013 – http://christiandebenedetti.wordpress.com/ .  A freelance writer whose hop charged words have enriched the pages of The New York Times, Esquire, Outside, National Geographic Adventure, GQ, Weekly Pint, and Eaters.  He is also author of the award-winning book:  The Great American Ale Trail:  The Craft Beer Lover’s Guide to the Best Watering Holes in the Nation,  THE GREAT AMERICAN ALE TRAIL: The Craft Beer Lover’s Guide to the Best Watering Holes in the Nation .  Christian is a very busy writer.  Also, he is one of the masterminds behind, “The Bräuler” a stainless steel growler– used to transport or store your favorite brewed beer, for more information see:  http://thezythosproject.com/.

Writing Resolutions 2013

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              Fortitude.

            Perseverance.

          Determination.

I resolve to continue reaching out to writers and readers around the world –building  community around the love of literature.

And to temper my consumption of fried fish.

Because what we eat affects our ability to think and write –some things help and others hinder. For I have found feasting upon fried fish is a creative clogger!  No big surprise.  (My husband is an artisanal fisherman…)

Currently, I am in the final rewrite of a historical novel: Cut From The Earth.  A story of 18th century Portuguese tile and of love — defying gender and class — and the power of nature and love to guide and  heal.

* Please see my blog page Historical Novel for more information and to read an excerpt.

I vow to complete this book and do my best to find a literary agent to represent it in 2013.

Happy New Year writers and readers of the world!

Stephanie Renee dos Santos

Journal Avatar to Link Back to Blog HopClick this photo & connect with the Writing Resolution Blog Hop! Organized by author Meg Waite Clayton.

Living Your Stories

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When writing historical fiction it is helpful for the writer to live as much as you can the activities of your characters: eat the foods, listen to the music, craft the art they make, and take the physical journey of the story (of course, if this is financially and time wise possible for the writer, which is not the case for everyone nor every book).

While rewriting my current work-in-progress, Cut From The Earth, a story about the 18th century famous Portuguese tile maker, monogram PMP, and his shop  ̶  I made azulejos, tiles.  The act of creating the Portuguese tiles gave me the chance to understand the materials and struggles and process of tile making, which is an integral part of the book and lends real authenticity.  The result of taking such action as a writer is a deep understanding of one’s characters.  The photo included with this post is the result of living my characters artistic process.

It is common for writers to visit the physical locations of one’s story, but I like to take it one step further  ̶  the physical reenactment of the story as it evolves in my imagination while based on historical information.  For Cut From The Earth, I walked the routes of my story while visiting and doing research in Lisbon, Portugal; and I traveled by boat from Belém to Manaus in the Brazilian Amazon, seeing and living as much as I could my characters voyage in these places.

I realize it is a luxury to be able to do this, but it is all part of the fun for me  ̶  to live portions of my stories. Blessed is the spirit of adventure in everyday life, and infusing it into historical fiction.

Conflict: How I Came to Write CUT FROM THE EARTH

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Conflict instigated the writing of Cut From the Earth. Real life drama. Family drama. Like good fiction riddled with problems that move the story forward, conflict, literally spurred me from my comfortable hammock, thrust me to sea in an open dory, rowing without life jacket along Brazil’s southern coast, and into writing a novel. Moments before leaving land  —  providence  —  I threw in the boat the book Your First Novel by Ann Rittenberg and Laura Whitecomb; a writing book that I had been packing around the world and had yet to follow its advice and instruction.

What conflict started a 40-day sea journey, the opening of that book, and pen to paper?

I was attacked by my husband’s younger brother  —  accused of lying and sabotage.

Why? Because I told the truth when asked by the brother’s, now, ex-partner, of any strange behavior I’d witnessed while she was away from Brazil in France. She being French and I being American, both involved with Brazilian fishermen brothers, along with my fondness for her, I told her the only thing I knew for sure about her partner’s actions in her absence:  How he had invited me into their place, late one night, while I sat at an open window writing as my husband slept nearby.

“Do you want to come in?” he had said suggestively with a devilish smile, looking to his door.

I knew he was drunk or under the influence of something, and I had heard it was not uncommon in Brazilian culture to be hit-on by brothers in the family; a show of one ups’em ship, the demonstration of ones prowess over another. So, I was not totally caught off guard by the invitation. I declined. I went to bed. In the morning I mentioned the incident to my husband, he shrugged it off as if not surprised nor threatened by it. I too did not take it to heart, but found it interesting from an anthropologically point of view. I left it at that. When I shared the story with my friend, I never thought I would become involved in their matters as nothing actually happened.  I had written the suggestive approach off as an ignorant drunken offer that could not be taken seriously.

But in a heated argument between the couple, the brother, in a fit of desperation, and I assume drunken or drugged rage, burst into our abode and accused me of lying and trying to ruin their already tainted love story. For their romance was singeing on hot rocks of a previous betrayal of his. Now, after reflecting, I am not surprised he reacted as he did when she brought up the incident to him, as I believe he doesn’t remember what he said to me that proposition night, nor was he aware of his body language because of his altered state. A novella style argument ensued, ending with me and my husband fleeing our small coastal town, to protect our relationship from their disintegrating one. And to actualize a long dreamed of trip of my husband’s   —  to camp and explore the little visited islands along Brazil’s southern coast.

We left the drama of the mainland and set to explore the uninhabited tropical islands.

The traumatic event thrust open the space for me to begin writing Cut From the Earth, a story that had been brewing for years. The moment manifest of long quiet days with nothing begging of our time but feeding ourselves, seeking out ancient hieroglyphics, and enjoying the peace and wild of the islands and sea. Idle time. Open time. Time without demands. Time without constraints. I wrote 70 pages of Cut From the Earth under swaying palms, by headlamp in our tent during tropical night storms, in the ion charged ocean mist as waves crashed on the island rocks, and at smoky fires repelling the swarming insects. The novel’s story came forth into the hot humid air as my own steam of the past events simmered. And the experience of rowing an open dory on the Atlantic, life jacket less, rang a tune of old sea times of my husband’s forefathers in the eighteenth century while they explored and settled the Brazilian coast: the time period of my story. Conflict, oh sweet conflict! How you prod and push us into ourselves and our dreams, forcing us forward, to look for solutions to our problems, for sometimes it takes an out-of-the-ordinary event to release us onto our desired path.

Conflict the substance of epic tales and the kick-starter for the realizing of Cut From the Earth.

Writing & Yoga Workshop 2012

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Beneath and in the energy of the Sun and Blue Moon, writers/yoginis came together at Bellingham Bay, on September 1, 2012. We experimented with yoga mudras, postures, and mantra to assist in our creative endeavours; with sparked vitality we began our fall writing season.

For more information about Stephanie Renee dos Santos’s “Writing & Yoga Workshop”, please see the Writing  & YogaWorkshop tab on her website/blog www.stephaniereneedossantos.com.

Namaste. Write in health. Continue reading →

The Story Behind the Story: CUT FROM THE EARTH

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A few days before leaving for Peru, in 2006, to paint plants, my travel partner informed me I would be traveling solo. Disillusioned, alone on a flight from Seattle, Washington, into Lima I read in its entirety Inés of My Soul by Isabel Allende. Above the cloud line I soared south as a clear defining moment, mid-book, took place  —  I want to do this, write stories like this  —  for the book, its characters and subject matter captured and entranced me.  A calling crystallized:  to write historical fiction. To give voice to the voiceless. To tell stories of those that have gone unheard, which often times are the tales of heroic women, minorities, and animals.

With this epiphany I landed in Peru.

My first night there I was awakened by a fistfight as two drunks pummeled each other against MY DOOR. I fled Lima. And I headed for the jungle town of Pullcalpa situated along the Ucayali River in the Peruvian Amazon. I was in search of the environmental painter and Ayahuasca shaman Don Pablo Amaringo, as I was painting endangered, medicinal, and exotic plant species of the Americas, and I wanted to meet and talk with this profound painter and teacher. I found him, in his mid-80’s with his guitar playing older brother, age 88, in the noisy motorcycle tuk-tuk riddled town.  It was an ethereal experience, listening to his brother play guitar, while Don Pablo Amaringo showed me his astonishing works and explained them; all painted in bright colored acrylics of mystical jungle scenes that appeared to him while in the embraces of the two vines that make up the hallucinogenic Ayahuasca drink.

After this soulful encounter I headed north by transport ship up the Ucayali River, in search of plants to paint. The boat’s top deck was laden with supplies for the river villages and I convinced the crew to allow me to pitch my tent amongst the goods. Their only requirement was that I not get up and walk around at night. I agreed to this, which meant forfeiting access to the head, but I knew I could resort to a mountaineering trick  —  peeing in a water bottle in the dark of my tent, luckily, I had two with me.

Later that night I found out why I could not walk around at night.

Gunfire.

A series of shots exploded off the sides of the vessel; I watched tracers of white light streak across the nylon walls of my tent. Lying flat upon my Thermarest, I came to the conclusion and assumption that the crew was fighting off raiders wanting to board, for what I presumed had to do with drugs. Cocaine. Petrified I stayed in my thin walled cocoon, eventually peeing in my open-mouthed water bottle.

Then in the last hours of darkness there was a rustling at my tent door. Fear, then anger grew inside me, the only thing on my mind: rape. Someone continued to aggressively shake at my tent’s zipper door, and I unzipped it slowly, readying myself to meet my aggressor.

“You need to pay for your boleto,” the ticket collector said. God I thought is that it! You’re not going to try and rape me! In the dark of the early morning, happy this man was not going to try to physically assault me, I thought:  “Damn, but do I really need to pay for my passage at this crazy hour?”.  I produced the money.  He left. But sleeping was now impossible. So began my four-day float up the Ucayali — my next stop  —  the jungle locked town of Iquitos, Peru.

I spent my hours aboard ship spying into the jungle landscape and watching the voluminous boiling water  — verdirness on all side  —  until we arrived at Iquitos’s red clay mired bank and the captain drove the flat bottom boat up the mud, wedging it between a fleet of already-beached cargo and passenger boats, all like pigs at the trough. Again, I was greeted by the noisy Indian imported tuk-tuk motorcycles, and I longed for the sounds of the forest, and to start painting.  I needed a guide. With three other jungle seekers and now found guide, we boarded an outboard boat loaded with five days of supplies, and motored to the mouth of a small tributary, bunking up for the night at a local’s palm roofed hut. The next day we paddled a dugout canoe up a narrow waterway clogged with lime-green water hyacinths and dangling vines that over hung the channel’s edges.

I sketched as we traveled.

The heat stifling, I struggled to draw until we reached, late in the day, a light bulb shaped water opening where we made camp on high ground.  At day’s end, we swam in the center of the blub-shaped inlet, weary of the crocodile. Slowly, the truths of the place began to be revealed. Our guide explained to us that here, where we were camped were some of the last remnants of primary rain forest just off the main waterways of the Ucayali and Amazon; as for centuries Europe and now other countries have been extracting the once seemingly unlimited hardwoods from this place. It then dawned on me, that all the forest I had seen coming up the Ucayali those four days was second growth forest.

On Christmas Day, the forest was alive; as we back-tracked the slue; ten pairs of yellow and blue macaws, tiny black and golden monkeys, and a sloth, saw us out of the primary jungle. A magnificent Christmas present.

Back in Iquitos, alone again, I took lunch along the riverside malecón, boardwalk.  As I walked I noticed the decaying, but beautiful, tile work that adorned the facades of the buildings. And I asked myself: Why is this tile work here in the middle of the jungle? How did it get here? Thinking, this is something one would see in Spain or Portugal.

A torrential rain fell as I ate and pondered these questions, water running down the two steps, a small falls that cascaded into the subterranean eatery, housed in an old tiled mansion.  I then realized the gorgeous dark hardwoods in the churches of Europe, black jacarandá wood pews and altars —  that wood came from here, the Amazon. Tiles were imported into the jungle for the rich European wood exporters to display their wealth; an exchange of one natural beauty for a man made one. It is from this realization and my continued curiosity that the creation of Cut From The Earth was sparked. And what I found in my investigating was a story far greater and more tragic than I had known, with the stories of many voices begging to be told.

Cut From The Earth is born of the love of azulejos, specifically Portuguese tile, and the awe inspiring Amazon  —  whose tales, wonders, and tragedies are as endless as its waterways.

 

Bright Summer Writing Tips

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Summer is the writer’s time to get out of our writing chairs and rooms and into the world.  With longer days and warmer weather, summer offers a comfortable phase of the year to gain experiences and insights that we can bring to our writing now and the other seasons. 

10 Ideas:

1. Unearth an old work, reread it, rework it, investigate solutions and apply what you find.  Seek.  As come August 1, September 1, and October 1 many literary journals begin accepting submission again.  Be ready. 
2. Spend time in nature.  Write. Scrawl out poems along a mountain trail, stroll beaches and let the sand and sea speak to you, sit upon a rock and mesh with its geological essence, with a notepad and pen always within grasp.
3. Visit all the bookstores in your town, talk with the folks that sell or will sell your books, check-in how are they? Make contact.
4. Read part of your works-in-progress or a finished piece publicly: at an open mic, at the local bookstore, at a public event, coffee shop or group campfire.  Share.
5. Sit at a sunny outside cafe soaking in the summer energy, making character sketches and expanding your characterization scope, take notes on passerby quirks, and document the summer smells and colors.
6. Meet new people. Meet new perspectives. And learn new ways of viewing the world, to incorporate into your stories.
7. Visit your summer farmer’s market and summer fairs, record over heard conversations, and document creative dress.
8. Take a trip, visit a new place, join a group or club outing, creating an opportunity for new experiences that can instigate new inspiration for writing.
9. Read, read, read!  in a place that you can only read in the summer, outside on a porch or in a hammock, on top of a flat rock along the ocean.  Read those titles you’ve stacked up over autumn, winter and spring, the Christmas and birthday presents, open the cover and dive in.
10. Attend a summer writers workshop or conference, summer is the time of expansion, opening!

Saraswati: Invoking Assistance to Write

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As writers a moment arrives for most of us when we need to call upon something larger than ourselves to intervene, to assist in our creative endeavor. Maybe the novel idea, characters, and scenes have been visiting you for years but you just can’t seem to start writing or you sit in front of your blank screen waiting for the words to burst forth but nothing comes. Or, life required you to take leave of your half-written manuscript, and now, months or years have passed but the work still begs to be completed or perhaps you obediently shelved your first draft of your book for the recommended three to six months and now what?

How do you start writing when the thought of it seems daunting or even impossible?

I encountered such a situation, a commonality amongst us writers. In an act of faith coupled with discipline and surrender, which I believe is the essence of writing (and spiritual life), I set out on a 40 day pre-writing meditation practice, to invoke the Hindu goddess Saraswati to help me in my effort to write and revise. I sang this mantra “Om Aim Saraswatyai Swaha“ 108 times, counting on my japa mala, a 109 (inclusive of the muru bead) beaded string like a rosary, before writing each day. Saraswati the goddess of hidden wisdom, the symbol of knowledge, music and the arts, and credited for making projects fruitful and successful. You don’t have to be Hindu to believe in the female creative spirit and she goes by many names around the world: “Yanchenma” in Tibetan Buddhism, “Brigid” a Celtic goddess, and “Ix Chel” by the Mayans, just to name a few. Energy is our universe. So, I made a concerted effort to align myself with Her universal creative force. Come to my aid, please! Mother of Muses!

Daily chanting I found my brain being stimulated by the mantra’s words, each sound’s vibration, my creativeness awakened, and that I had already accomplished something as I sat down before my computer to write. At first, my voice was shaky and unrefined like the first draft I was rewriting. As the days passed I noticed my voice becoming stronger, more sure of itself and clear, and I felt this was also happening with my novel  — it was improving and revealing itself more to me. My morning singing mirrored my writing and gave me a way to see that progress and inspired me to keep going. A mantra is a thread of words or one sound, like a quote or beautifully written fragment, sung from the heart, like our words we place on our pages. At the end of the 40 days, I was so pleased with my manuscript’s advancement, I committed myself to another twenty days of chanting. By the end, I felt empowered to continue on my own. Thank you Saraswati, for I am She and She is me! Please feel free to try this yourself and investigate — the power of mantra with writing.

Om Aim Saraswatyai Swaha Om, “Om and salutations to the feminine Saraswati principle Om.”