Stuck, Stuck, Stuck!

Grr! The Dorothy Devereux story I mentioned 2 posts ago has run into a standstill. The opening bit I think turned out okay, but from then on! I just despise it when I can write something, but it turns out so awful and dully plodding that I just can't stand it! This is the opening bit:

My name is Dorothy Devereaux, and this is my story.
It isn’t a particularly exciting tale, but it is a story nonetheless and I am determined to convey it to the best of my ability, so that it may be known to future generations and not be mangled by confusion, rumour and misunderstanding.

Now, that turned out good. It sounds Elizabethan. But then... I think it might go better if I wrote it in third person instead of first, but I want it to be in first person. Grr. My characters are on strike, as a friend once termed it.

Dorothy and Penelope Devereux around the time of my story.

When I look at this painting, I get a rush of inspiration of a general idea of how I want the story to be, but the actual wording is what is so greatly vexing me at the moment.

More Quotes

More quotes, this time about writing, and my thoughts on them.

"We write to taste life twice." ~Anaïs Nin

^ This is, once I think about it, one of the many reasons I write. And not only twice, but dozens and dozens of times, with each story, poem or book.

"If there's a book you really want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it."  ~Toni Morrison

^ There are dozens of things that I'd love to read books about, but since these wished-for books do not exist, (or the existing ones are quite awful,) I either write about them or plan to write about them.

I don't know if there's such a thing as a book about how to write, but if there was I would consider it quite absurd, because:

 "You only learn to be a better writer by actually writing." ~Doris Lessing

 

"A writer is working when he's staring out of the window." ~Burton Rascoe

^ I daydream a lot. And often when I'm daydreaming, I'm thinking up a scene for one of my stories. And sometimes I'm staring out the window.

Discrimination in Research, Paintings

I have been starting to write a story about the children of Lettice Knollys, who was the daughter of Queen Elizabeth I's cousin. There is very little information about Penelope and Dorothy Devereux, the main characters of this as-of-yet untitled piece of work, and as I was researching yesterday I ran into inconsistency between the different sites, i.e. birth dates, who was engaged to who and broke it off, etc. I could just dither over two different dates, or dither over whether or not I should have Penelope or Dorothy engaged to this person named Sir Phillip Sidney, but instead I'm just deciding upon which one best fits the plot of my story. That's what one has to do, really, when one runs into problems with historical research for novels based on historical people. Just choose which dates etc. best fit one's plot, and fill in the holes, (in my case, big, gaping holes,) with one's imagination.

I have been looking up Victorian and Edwardian paintings lately for a calendar I am making, trying to pick which of the gorgeous pieces of art best fit which month. These are two of my favorites:

John Singer Sargent, The Black Brook, circa 1908

Edward Cucuel, Unknown title. I'm guessing sometime between 1910-1930s.

In cold, colorless winter I am simply adoring these vibrant, summery hues and gardens overflowing with flowers.

"...Nor less, the stillness of these frosty plains,

Their utter stillness and the silent grace

Of yon ethereal summits white with snow..."

An excerpt of a poem by William Wordsworth that I just stumbled upon.

“I often quote myself. It adds spice to my conversation.” George Bernard Shaw

A New World Made of Snow ~ Quotes

This is what it looked like outside the window earlier today, before it got dark: (my dad had made a bonfire...)

And on the windowpane outside...a new world made of snow...

Enya - Amid the Falling Snow <link to song

I adore this song! To me, Roma Ryan's lyrics for Enya are always such wonderful, beautiful poetry: A million feathers falling down, a million stars that touch the ground... or: I close my window to the night, I leave the sky her tears of white, and all is lit by candle-light, amid the falling snow... and soooo many other bits I'd list but that would be a bit crazy!

Anyhow, I thought I'd also post a couple quotes from one of my favorite quoters, George Bernard Shaw.

“Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got a hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it onto future generations.”

“Be like the sun and meadow, which are not in the least concerned about the coming winter.”
“Few people think more than two or three times a year. I have made an international reputation for myself by thinking once or twice a week.”

“Words are only postage stamps delivering the object for you to unwrap.”

“A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing.”
“A gentleman is one who puts more into the world than he takes out.”
 “The worst sin toward our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them; that's the essence of inhumanity.”

And those are only some of the prolific ones! There are lots of really funny ones too that I'll post later as I am sick of cutting and pasting...

I suppose I'm in such a colorful mood because of the pretty but drab white and gray outdoors!

What I've Been Reading

I always like to read the professional reviews on the backs of books (if they're hardcover) or on the inside (if they're paperback) and decide which one best fits my perception of the book.
        Last week I was engrossed in a book called Entwined, by Heather Dixon. It's one of those sometimes rare novels where you really want to read it as often as you can, instead of just during the times you usually read. (For me, that's during breakfast and lunch, before I go to sleep, and in the car sometimes.) The book is a re-telling of The Twelve Dancing Princesses and it actually has a sort of morbid twist to it, but the thing that captivated me the most was the 12 sisters.
           Azalea, who becomes a sort of second mother to her younger sisters when their mother dies, and who is the main character; the madcap, sometimes comical Bramble, who despite this is not a tomboy; the shy, beautiful and caring Clover; the romantic, dramatic Delphinium; literary-loving Evening Primrose, (Eve for short;) the twins Flora and Goldenrod, both "shy and eager at the same time"; Hollyhock, who I didn't notice having a particularly defining personality trait; the ever-hungry Ivy; delicate, quiet Jessamine; vicious Kale, who likes to bite people and scream, and who always made me laugh; and baby Lily. Each of their distinguishing personalities charmed me, and their closeness made me smile.
         The professional book review which I felt expressed the book the best was this one:

Graceful and enthralling...a fully original world, brimming with romance, enchantment, even a healthy dose of humor. --Edith Pattou

            However, I do think that Ms. Pattou shouldn't have listed romance first, because I think that the friendship between the sisters is more prominent, and that even their estrangement from their father, the King, and the looming danger coming from Keeper, the master of the pavilion and silver forest where they sneak off to dance every night, are more significant in the book than romance.
            The sisters live for dancing, I think, or perhaps a better way to word it would be 'they can not live without dancing.' So, forbidden to do so because of mourning, they go to dance secretly.
            The book was very different from what I expected it to be, the cover with the back of a girl in a rather odd dress and the whole outer appearance of the tome made me think that it would be more of a romantic book with not so much focus on the rest of the girls, just Azalea. But I loved the many heart-warming scenes, the frank way Ms. Dixon writes, the numerous funny bits, the slightly British feel to some parts, so much that I think I might like to purchase this book for myself, to re-read over and over as I do with my favorite books.

<Entwined cover

          Really, this is becoming more book reviews and fashion pictures than actual stories or poems! Oh, well! Lately I haven't been genuinely, properly inspired for a really good something. Grr!

          

Silly Poems

I wrote these two goofy historical fashion poems last January when I was bored. I looked up some of the rhymes, (i.e. "what rhymes with 'picnic',) on the Internet, and I suppose that's sort of cheating, but...I was having fun!

A Hoopskirt:

A lady in a hoopskirt went out one day,
With the brisk breeze blowing in from the bay.
Her bonnet, tied on with tightest of strings,
Was blown away as if only a grass ring.
Her beau comforted the distressed belle,
But only fate could tell,
Whether Mademoiselle,
Would escape the horrible pell-mell.
The wind gets more brisk,
My lady is at risk!
Nevertheless, they sit down for a picnic,
Oblivious of the wind so breakneck.
Then all of a sudden, Miss Hoopskirt shrieks!
Her petticoats are exposed, what a society breach!
But that is not all, now pantaloons too! What shall Mademoiselle do!?
The horror of which,
Her beaus protect the dish,
As lovely blue silk,
Tips over the milk.
And then with a cry,
Miss is swept into the sky!

The Flapper:
A flapper,
So dapper,An excellent tapper,
She is not a napper,
More like a snapper.
On nothing will she not dare,
Even to cut her hair.
The sleek stylish bob,
Is no watch fob.
In glitter does she dine,
Everything is very fine,
For no one does she pine,
No, she is a modern maid!
Without qualm she drives a car,
Going ever so very far.
Her long necklace is of gold,
Miss It Girl is ever so bold.
Long skirts are passé,
She shows her knees today!She may be called rash,
To the Charleston party does she dash,
But in this new society,
The forward new personality,
Is really quite the style,
Everyone she beguiles,
So only stiff dowagers are hostile!

Rather silly, eh? The rhymes always make me crack up. Let's see...
Here is the Hoopskirt Lady and a friend:

and the Flapper and some companions, at their Charleston party:




Slightly Annoying Heroines

Sometimes I get fed up with heroines of books who detest balls, fancy clothes and romance, and prefer to be riding horses, or, in the case of the newest novel I've started, Bewitching Season, practicing magic. The start of this book reminds me immensely of a novel I read a while back, called, (very similar title, too...) The Season. Both set in the early 1800s, both about a society girl who is not looking foward to the coming social season, wishes she doesn't have to marry some stuffy suitor, and then suddenly a handsome childhood friend arrives and changes that! But--once I get further along in Bewitching Season, I am sure it will change, because the central plot aspect is supposed to be something to do with a plot to harm Princess Victoria, who would one day become Queen Victoria. Based on my love of The Young Victoria movie, which the beginning involves her last year as a princess, (same as BS,) I'm sure that I'll get around to enjoying it more.
      However, back to my original complaint. I'd just like to read about a heroine who actually is interested in fashion, society, etc. In fact, I can't think of any book which featured a character like that, off the top of my head! And ach, the historical fashion lover in me can't help criticizing the cover of Bewitching Season. The model is wearing a very costume-y outfit that looks very Spanish.  At least it's better than the cover of The Season, those models were supposed to look Regency, but they just ended up looking like very modern-day girls in high-waisted, backless (for goodness sakes!) dresses! Ugh!

As for the long-ago, (well, not so long,) promise, (well, sort of promise,) of a review of The Fool's Girl, I still have not finished it. Yes, I very often read several books at once. But that particular novel is just not that interesting! I mean, it is, but it's very heavy reading, and not very captiviating. It doesn't help that the text is very crammed close together.
Francis Bacon, (whoever he is,) once said:

Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested.

Sometimes some books just have to be left as "tasted".