Gretchen Jones

Dress for Historical Success Workshop presented at RWA 2010 Orlando, FL

Moderator Peg Herring with authors Coralie Jensen, Jade Lee, Jeannie Lin,
Julia Justiss, Judy Ridgley, Pam Nowak, Linda Joyce, Isobel Carr, and
Elisabeth Burke

I attended this workshop primarily to support three authors from two chapters that I belong to. Elisabeth Burke, Linda Joyce, and Judy Ridgley, but came away with a wardrobe of photographs and a new respect for those that dressed before us.

I managed to sneak in late and grabbed a chair along the wall so I could sneak & take photographs. I should have planned better and hung out at the back of the room with others that were taking photographs, but I still managed to get some good shots. I took quite a few shots of each costume presented but some came out better than others. If you are represented here and you only see one frame it is because I failed in my other attempts. My apologies, I would have represented everyone here equally if I could.

I have to preface this by admitting the descriptions that appear below were written by each of the ladies who appear in the photographs. I wrote up my own descriptions but my memory was so bad that I finally contacted Peg and got the segments provided by each of the authors. Thanks so much to Peg Herring who got the descriptions to me in time to post them. And more thanks to Linda and Elisabeth who got me in contact with her in time to post this blog. My comments are in italics and the photographs and descriptions appear in the order that I remember them. Not necessarily the order in which they actually appeared. Such is my memory. I got the corrected order later, but deemed it too much work to move everything around.

Note: Comments are moderated so don’t be surprised if they don’t appear right away. You don’t need to repost. I’ll publish the first comments entered. thx gj

The fashion show began with the moderator dressed in a beautiful gown and headpiece.

Peg Herring chose to appear as Catherine Parr, sixth wife of Henry VIII and a character in Peg’s mystery, HER HIGHNESS’ FIRST MURDER. Catherine was Elizabeth Tudor’s last stepmother, and she was a good one. Of course, Henry had already disposed of two wives named Catherine, one by divorce, one by beheading.

Peg’s costume is suitable for a formal occasion, such as a day at Court, and is similar to one Catherine wore to have her portrait done in the 1550s. She would begin with a shift, a light under-dress with fitted sleeves and a low neck. Over it, she would fasten a hoop skirt known as a farthingale, tied on at the waist. A bum roll, a tube of fabric stuffed and also tied around the waist, emphasizes the curve of the derriere. Next she would add a corset, tightly laced to narrow her waist and flatten her bosom.

An under-skirt, plain at the back and sides but fancy in front, comes next. Over that is the dress itself, split in front to show the underskirt’s elegant front section. The overdress has very elaborate sleeves with cuffs of one fabric and inserts of another draped back and under to make a puffy look. The waist is tightly fitted, with a “V” shape in front to help create the triangular look that ladies favored at the time.

To cover her hair, Catherine might add a cap with a veil, although more elaborate hats were also popular. Hair decorations often accompanied the hat, such as feathers or jeweled hairpins. Peg has also chosen a lovely beaded necklace that shows well in the dress’s squared neckline.

Coralie Hughes Jensen’s costume is an outfit worn by a landed gentleman similar to one of the Yorkshire characters in her historical novel HAWKSWOLD ABBEY, set in the time of Henry VIII. In the early 1500s, wealthy English landowners who were not part of the court or nobility lived well from the rents paid by tenants who farmed their estates. Members of the landed gentry were upper class, a highly desirable status. Particular prestige was attached to those who had inherited landed estates for generations, the “old” families. Sumptuary laws prohibited the lower and middle classes from using gold or silver thread, silk, velvet, gems, or anything signifying wealth. Doing so would land the common man or woman in jail. It was important for those with land, money, and social standing to display their rank.

The gentleman farmer’s attire was multi-layered. In full garb, he would have worn a wide-sleeved linen or cotton shirt under a waistcoat, which would be covered by a doublet, a vest or jacket of quilted material or wool embellished for formal occasions. Below, he wore upper stocks, fitted knee-breeches or fuller slops, sometimes slashed and lined with colorful fabric pulled through the slashes and puffed out to emphasize the color contrasts. Over the lower stocks, or hose, he wore shoes or knee-high boots. The flat cap, worn both indoors and outdoors, had a narrow brim, often turned up. It sat horizontally on the head and might be embellished with buttons, pins, or feathers.

Coralie’s interest in history is not limited to the Tudors. Her just-released romantic suspense, WINTER HARVEST, is set in a western Massachusetts religious commune and takes place in the early 1800s, during the heyday of the group known as the Shakers.

Judy Ridgley appears as the “Domina’ Julia Galeria Casca, a character in her Vulcan’s City-Herculaneum. This Roman lady of the upper class is attired in the traditional gown or ‘stola’, as it was called in Ancient Pompeii. Her iridescent green stola is bordered on the hem, which is typical of the gowns of married dominas just before Vesuvius erupted on A.D. 79. Fortunately, for Julia, she survived this catastrophe to be with us today.

The lady covers her head with a maroon shawl or ‘palla’. In the early Republic period, a domina seen with head uncovered gave her husband, the dominus, grounds for divorce. Times have changed. Now, during the First Century, a woman accents all her stolas with this garment as she shops the streets of Herculaneum.

The silk stola and palla would have traveled the Silk Road through Jerusalem and on a galley to Rome. The lady’s jewelry (will have to give the details when I have them) displays the wealth of her own family and of her husband, and reveals his position as an equestrian and owner of many merchant galleys.

Julia’s hair is parted in the center and swept up, which for first century dominas revealed their married status. Her sandals are open due to the warm climate around the Tyrannian Sea where this wealthy city was situated.

Elisabeth Burke, also known as Leigh Stites, appears as Mattie Parker, a Cherokee healer living in the foothills of the Ozarks in the mid 1860s. Mattie is the mother of John and Jay Parker, two sexy sons of Missouri whose stories are told in companion novels: 2009 award-winner Broken Road and this year’s Golden Heart finalist, The Healer.

Throughout their struggles, Mattie is the glue that holds the family together, which is not surprising. The Cherokee are a matriarchal society, so ‘Ma’ wears the pants—even if it’s a dress.

The extra fullness and slightly shorter length provide freedom of movement to do daily chores. A decorative sash and bandolier bag for carrying her healing supplies add a cultural flare. When she’s working around the farm, Mattie wears a wide-brimmed bonnet to shield her face from the sun. What’s underneath? Leggings in the winter, cotton shift on cooler days, but on warmer days–nothing.

You won’t find Mattie in buckskins. The Cherokee, especially intermarried families, adapted quickly to the lifestyle of early white settlers and gave up wearing leather in favor of more easily made cloth fabrics. They did not, however, give up the comfort of their moccasins or the decorative touch of beads made from glass, shells or local seeds.

Like many Cherokee women, Mattie is an expert weaver. She also sews all the clothes for her family. This dress combines the practicality of traditional Indian ponchos with pioneer wrappers, featuring a split bodice closed with whatever is handy (in this case, it would have been a locust thorn except that it was confiscated by airport security). Though Mattie’s sons are grown, she’s still considered in her childbearing years, and this dress allows for easy nursing.

Linda Joyce is wearing the classic uniform of a 19^th century schoolmarm and is here to educate her class about how proper young ladies need to dress.

Around 1907, women’s clothing became more man-tailored. The two-piece outfit with a “shirtwaist” or as we would say today, a blouse, opens in the front with buttons and has a collar. Notice the detailed pleats and gathering in the back.

The seven-gore skirt, made of seven pieces including an inverted pleat, is considered a most figure-flattering garment. It has one button and several snaps.

While clothing for a schoolmarm is made from simple fabrics like cotton, this outfit might be made of silk, taffeta or linen as well. If the fabric of the skirt and blouse are the same, the outfit is called a “shirtwaist suit.”

Notice the difference in the bonnets between the one Linda is wearing and the one Elisabeth wears above.

She gave us lessons in propriety and I was frightened that she might be hiding a ruler. No worries though this was a kind, proper and wise school marm.

Jade Lee is wearing touristy crap circa 1950. Doesn’t she look stylish? Jade is here to show the clothing her distant relatives wore to the CHIN dynasty court. Since Jade would have to cut her body in half to wear either outfit, she’s put them on a couple of dolls. The blue outfit (not shown) is typical of everyday wear in the 1800s. A silk jacket with braiding is worn over a pleated silk skirt. The pink outfit is more typical of court attire. It has the same general style, but the top and bottom match, and both are extensively embroidered.

Jade is wearing—appropriately—some jade jewelry. She claims there are a zillion superstitions surrounding this beautiful semi-precious stone, most common being that it can stabilize or preserve the body’s CHEE, or spirit. Some believe that jade will change to a richer green color if it “likes you”. And many, probably jewelers, claim that if you wear a jade bracelet and it breaks, the jade will take the harm instead of you. Our Jade recommends that you wear a lot of jade so you will never get hurt!

The colors were fabulous and the embroidery amazing.

Yes, we’re pretending to ignore those bare legs in the background that looked like they’d just done a Sharon Stone.

Our next model had more clothing than anyone so there are quite a few photographs here. It’s always difficult to show detail in black but I did my best.

Pam Nowak’s costume is patterned on an 1873 wedding dress. Black wedding gowns were common among middle class women, since the brides could reuse the dresses later. The dress is similar to what Miriam, Pam’s heroine in CHOICES, might have worn. More formal than practical calico and clearly indicating the wearer was aware of the fashions of Harper’s Bazaar, it would announce her status as an officer’s daughter. Though suffragist Sarah Donovan, heroine of Pam’s HOLT Medallion winner CHANCES, would have wrinkled her nose at the dress in favor of a simple brown work skirt, Miriam would have found it the perfect compromise between style and functionality. The dress is comprised of separates (a bodice and a skirt). Box pleats on the underskirt and the DAMask inset in the skirt front add style to the otherwise unadorned gown. The uncharacteristic diagonal pleat was copied from the original dress and may have been the result of an alteration or repair. A crinoline or petticoat and a detachable bustle would have been worn under the skirt.

The boned DAMask bodice features twenty fabric-covered buttons and accents the waistline, drawing attention to the wearer’s curves. A rear fan pleat does the same. Sleeves are set at the top of the shoulder and, except for the slight puff at the top, are tight. Original lace accents the collar and cuffs.

Accessories such as a broach, hat, gloves, parasol, and reticule complement the dress and add color.

The third frame is where the proper lady began to be a bit improper. But we encouraged it, so I believe we are at fault for ruining her too. She did keep her hat on though.

I am to be flogged for not taking notes as I was taking photographs but this gown was just spectacular as is the lady who wears it. The color and texture of the fabric and the rich colors are not accurately represented here, but I did my best with it. It is more orange than pink. Some of the photographs were dark so I enhanced them to provide better visibility. My apologies to the authors if their terrific gowns are misrepresented because of it).

Isobel Carr shows us what a woman of the Georgian era might look like. Her favorite era is late 18^th century, the time of such films as The Duchess, The Affair of the Necklace and Amazing Grace. There was an air of decadence, revolution, and exuberance with the Enlightenment, as well as the thrill of war. So much going on. So many changes.

In just a few years, fashion will undergo swift and momentous change, but for the moment we are still in an era of layers, of strict corsetry, and of male elegance. Clothing is, for the most part, very structured. Hoops are on their way out, replaced in everyday dress by hip pads, though formal and court gowns are still worn over the magnificent hooped petticoats so familiar from depictions of the doomed Marie Antoinette. Into this world suddenly springs the very first “round gown”, meaning that it goes all the way around the body, pulling on over the head, without the need for a stomacher or any other parts. It is called Chemise a la Reine, Robe a la Reine or simply, the Chemise dress. Some sources claim it is of English origin, but it is Vigee le Brun’s portrait of Marie Antoinette in what critics called her “underwear” that popularized the fashion and gave it the name by which it is known today.

While the chemise would still have been worn over the ridged stays of the day, the lack of hoops and the light fabric’s ability to mould to the body, especially the legs, was a revolution in terms of female fashion. It is from this gown that the light and diaphanous gowns of Regency will be born. What Isobel is wearing today is the chemise’s successor: a true round gown with a “robe” over it similar to those worn in Emma Thompson’s version of Sense and Sensibility.

Julia Justiss appears in evening dress as Lady Honoria Carlow, heroine of her August release, THE SMUGGLER AND THE SOCIETY BRIDE. The Regency period saw a simplification in aristocratic women’s dress. Gone are bum rolls, separate sleeves, stomachers and elaborate layers of underskirts. Often a lady’s dress, even for the most formal occasions, would be just a variation of a simple “round gown,” a one-piece garment that tied, pinned, or fastened in the back. Though England was at war with France for almost the entire period of the Regency, French fashion still had a strong influence on English dress. The high-waisted, puffed-sleeved, slender-silhouette gown introduced by the Empress Josephine at Napoleon’s court replaced the more elaborate Georgian gowns and remained in fashion for several decades.

The line of the dress might be simple, but the decoration was often elaborate, with French terms sprinkled throughout. One popular trim was the “rouleau” (roo-loh,) or “roll”, literally a roll of fabric often decorated, as it is on Julia’s gown, with flower or ribbon trim. Lace was a favorite trim material for skirts, sleeves and bodices, as were jewels such as pearls, crystal (called “brilliants”) or even precious stones, which are NOT shown on Julia’s gown.

Although cropped haircuts were appearing, most women still wore their hair long, done up for evening in elaborate arrangements of curls. As the period progressed, caps and turbans were worn, but in 1814, at the time of Honoria’s story, a simple style of curls threaded through with ribbons or pearls, perhaps capped by an Ostrich feather, would finish the ensemble.

Gloves were always worn, often dyed to match the color of the gown. My lady would carry a reticule, forerunner of the modern purse, and no toilette would be complete without a fan. These were often as elaborate as the gown, displaying painted scenes, intricate lace or ivory carving. On her feet, my lady usually wore flat slippers of soft kid, similar to the Mary Jane or ballet slipper of today.

Jeannie Lin is showing off the elegant Hanfu robes featured in her 2009 Golden Heart award winning debut novel, Butterfly Swords. The story is set in the 8^th century, during the Golden Age of Tang Dynasty China.

The traditional garment consists of a form-fitting bodice draped with a floor-length robe. The style was then modified according to the fashion of the times. During the Tang Dynasty, trade along the Silk Road was at its height. The magnificent clothing and accessories reflected the wealth and artistry of the period. Robes became more elaborate, with long, flowing sleeves and vibrant colors. Layers of silk and gauze gave the illusion of rippling water as ladies swept across the courtyard.

In Butterfly Swords, the heroine, Ai Li, wears this beautiful robe as she sneaks out of the palace to say farewell to the hero. She hopes that he will remember her as a woman, rather than the sword-wielding tomboy he rescued.

Explore the elegance and drama of the Tang Dynasty in Butterfly Swords, available in October from Harlequin Historical. The linked short story, The Taming of Mei Lin, will release in September from Harlequin Historical Undone.

I can’t say enough about the effort these ladies went to to provide us with accurate, well researched and generally stunning gowns. I know I appreciated the effort they went to and really enjoyed the workshop.

Here is the last photo, a group shot showing all the participants dressed for historical success!

Check out the participating authors’ newest/upcoming releases
Isobel Carr - Ripe for Seduction
Peg Herring –Her Highness’ First Murder
Coralie Jensen - Winter Harvest
Julia Justiss - The Smuggler and the Society Bride
Jade Lee –Wicked Surrender
Jeannie Lin - Butterfly Swords and The Taming of Mei Lin
Pamela Nowak - Choices
Judy Ridgley - Vulcan City—Herculaneum

So you’ve seen how much fun we had with the airplanes. Now settle in for some fun without them. You may be here awhile.

Yes, in the afternoon we went to see the Parachute Riggers and the Jump Masters. Yet again I have to refer to my brother the pilot who believes that there is never a good reason to jump out of an airplane intentionally. He is not the risk taker that these guys are and the family likes that just fine thank you.

But that doesn’t mean we aren’t interested in finding out all about it. We had the good fortune to spend a couple of hours with four military guys who were kind enough to instruct us on the finer points of jumping out of aircraft on purpose just because you can.

There are basically two kinds of jumping out of airplanes when you mean to do it from the start. There’s static line like the movies where everyone hooks their line up to the wire and runs out the door. In that case the skydivers have their chutes deployed for them by virtue of the “static line” that stays in the aircraft while they do not. These are the guys who go out the door in a steady stream of humanity that will probably not ever reach terminal velocity. The reason is that the parachute opens right away and the fella never has a chance to “free fall”. In this video you can see the parachute riggers packing parachutes (static line chutes) and see some of the training. We didn’t see anyone actually jump out of an airplane and we didn’t get to jump (thank you Barb Kroon for that!) but we did watch a guy pack a parachute in about two minutes flat. They do that in this video as well. (I’m posting the links rather than embedded video because the video may be restricted to viewing on Youtube due to military content or because of the audio tracks or something. Each video will open in a new browser window).

You know about free fall right?

No not Tom Petty’s Free Falling…

More like this quick video:

The position of the arms and legs will determine the direction he (or yes, she) travels while falling. Here you can see two views of a romance author demonstrating for the group. The first (above) shows correct arm and leg position as you travel forward (the straight legs will give you forward momentum.) from the aircraft and begin your freefall (presumably this would be what you’d do when you were new to it. Once you’re an old hand at it I suppose Cirque du Soleil rules apply and you get all freaky with it.)

In this second shot (above) you see the correct signal to indicate you are about to open your chute so everybody get outta the way. There her legs should probably be bent up in the drop straight down position.

If you’d like to see someone actually training over and over, watch the next video as the instructor that jumps with the paratrooper provides instructions using hand signals. I didn’t recognize all of them but the ones they showed us were to straighten your legs, bend your legs that sort of thing. It’s long, about nine minutes but the lessons are clear. Warning the audio is loud so if you don’t dig Hard Rock you may want to mute your audio for this. There isn’t any dialog, just soundtrack.

The freefall guys may jump at very high altitudes that require oxygen masks. They may freefall for a great distance and travel many miles (up to at least 10) from where they were originally dropped gliding like a turkey buzzard except constantly dropping and thermals don’t apply I expect due to the peculiar aerodynamics of the human body.

HALO = High Altitude Low Opening. This second video shows the in air instruction that the jumpers receive. Note the large altimeter on the wrist.

And finally our hero gives us the memorable finale.

Another Successful KOD Mission Accomplished.

Oh I promised to tell you about the blushing parachute rigger didn’t I. Someone in the group asked him “so, for work you jump out of airplanes from high altitude. What do you do for excitement on your days off?” The handsome dark skinned man actually shifted from foot to foot grinning, blushing and never did tell us his secrets. They must have been good though!

One other story worth mentioning. The two jump masters (at least I think those were their roles - these were the guys who judging by attitude had seen plenty of action. Your basic Alpha Hero type, lots a tats, muscles, economy of motion. Deliberate in their actions and words).

They looked like they were astounded at us blood thirsty romance writers when not one both groups that met with them independently asked how hard it would be to rig a chute so it wouldn’t open properly. Needless to say they were hesitant, this really is life or death for them and I’m sure they had visions of their answer coming back to haunt them. So we never did get an answer to that one.

What they did tell us is that each parachute that is packed is signed by the guy that packed it, signed by the guy who witnessed the packing, and locked away in a cage that only one or two guys have a key to. Then when the soldiers need them they are signed out, the soldier immediately puts it on and goes directly to the plane. There is very little room for error, and the accountability level is high.

Next time a fashion show for the historically inclined, and more stories from RWA National Conference 2010.

Ok, still pre-conference, but Tuesday the fun begins. Early rising, a bowl of yogurt and cereal and off I go on the Kiss of Death Tour. For those of you playing the home game Kiss of Death is the affectionate pseudonym for the RWA Mystery Suspense Chapter. Each year there is a tour where the participants go look at something and ask a bunch of questions. If you’ve been here before you may recall my visit to Quantico last year. There were guns involved.

This year there were no guns involved, but there were lots of airplanes and related thingies. We visited MacDill Airforce Base near/in Tampa. We first spent some time visiting with a KC135 crew and crawling all over the thing to get a look at this flying Sinclair station. Like the Sinclair mascot the aerial refueling fleet is mostly of my generation. Manufactured in the 1950’s with the last one delivered in 1963. Yes, we might have gone to school together if airplanes did that sort of thing, which of course they don’t.

The three airmen (pilot, nozzle jockey, and co-pilot I think) who gave us the tour were gracious and helpful and answered all our questions. They even allowed us to climb down in the cockpit and in the refueling pod at the rear of the aircraft to take photos and have a peek around. I was unable to take any pics with the Nikon because of the inside/outside temperature differential and the humidity. (Lens fogged) However thanks to my trusty google phone (G1) I do have a number of moderately viewable pics.

Here is the inside of the KC135 Refueling tanker. I think it’s the view out the back pod window.

Partially obscured by part of the aircraft or support equipment. It’s tight. The nozzle jockey (It’s okay, I worked at Vickers back in the Seventies as a nozzle jockey so I can use the term) lies on his belly in a cradle of sorts and works the gizmos with a joystick. The author seen in this photo is actually lying on her belly in that very cradle. Yes, the KOD tours are awesome with a capital AWE.

Next we went to see the weather dudes at NOAA. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration spent a bit of time with us explaining things like what they do, what the difference between a tornado and a hurricane is (okay, my dumb question - Hey, I’m a midwesterner, I know about tornadoes, but hurricanes are like snow in the desert to me). They talked about their staff, aircraft (I think they said they had thirteen). We listened to the presentation by a couple of meteorologists, a pilot, a director kind of fellow.

Then we followed them out to the hangar and took a look at the aircraft they affectionately call Miss Piggy. Apparently all the aircraft are named after muppets historically. Unfortunately Disney bought the muppets and we all know what happens when Disney stamps their trademark on something. Fortunately Jim Henson had grandfathered NOAA in on their existing fleet and in fact did do some of the artwork painted on some of the aircraft as illustrated here. I think Henson did Kermit, I don’t know if he did Miss Piggy or not.

Incidentally in case you can’t read it the logo for Miss Piggy says aero-nautical but nice.

Cute.

They also had a list of kills…well, thrills I guess is more accurate pasted on the side of the aircraft. It is a list of all the hurricanes that the aircraft had flown into.

My brother the pilot, asked if the interior was configured so that it could be easily hosed down. I suspect NOAA is prepared for that contingency, turbulence being what it is. The interior of the fuscilage pretty much looked like the computer room at work. Racks with computers, network switches and other geeky brand name hardware and lots of cat5 cables.

One funny thing that just coincidentally happened while we were in NOAAs hanger. Seemed that an entire fleet of firetrucks at the airbase made an appearance. I heard someone from NOAA say something about them being there just in case.

Nawww, it couldn’t be that they heard there was a whole hanger full of romance writers hanging on every word the NOAA guys were saying. Could it?

Come back on the 14th when I tell you about the last part of this tour. When we made the parachute rigger blush.

A few of you may be old enough to remember the old western TV comedy show F-Troop.  Well, this headline goes that far back but refers to something a little further into the remote regions than the wild west.  And if you don’t remember F-Troop get it on NetFlix.  It was wholly un PC and really funny to a nine year old at the end of the sixties.  Probably wouldn’t get on the air these days.

Balloo is the big blue bear from Jungle Book, a Disney flick from way back when.  I don’t remember much about it except the triple jointed looseness of the boy Mowglie and the song that the ape sang.  ”I wanna be a man, man child, and walk right into town…”  So when I came across a seven foot tall Balloo and Ape in the Animal Kingdom I couldn’t hold back those irrepressible lyrics.  Keep in mind that my friend Denise and I had been out for hours by then and my signature color was sweat stained from the 1200% humidity.  I still maintain that it was condensation collecting on the surface of our skin since we were two hot babes in the woods.

Now you might think that I had enticed Balloo over to have his picture taken with me but no, in fact he was drawn to me by my melodic crooning.  Balloo wanted his picture taken with me.  So naturally I obliged.  It’s a pretty good photo of Balloo, but I’m afraid it’s a bit dodgey of me.  That Florida sun is unforgiving.  You’ll notice the resemblance between us in shape.  Yes, well, I’ll have to work on that.

But this wasn’t the only fun we had in Florida.  No, we were there for serious business.  My friend Denise and I were celebrating our Semi-Centennial year.  We will both be skipping across that meridian that separates youth from whatever follows, later in the fall.

We celebrated the entire weekend with trips to three Disney parks, both of the Universal studio parks as well.  There we discovered that the Harry Potter ride at Universal Studios called the hippogriff (or something like that) was not designed using the standard American Buttwidth.  In fact we suspect the designers may have been using the French Buttwidth or even perhaps the Japanese Buttwidth universal measures.  We very nearly didn’t get into the cars.  You will see us here in the photo I’m holding (although this is from Expedition Everest).  We are the ones wedged into the back seats.

As you can clearly see we are having what they call fun. But even more fun was yet to come.

Later that evening while we were enjoying a frosty beverage and massaging
our feet we recalled that we were not the only ones celebrating.

Dick Powers (his real name) was also celebrating the half way mark without us in Lawrence, Kansas.  So we serenaded him in a birthday salute that I will spare you.  I do have a still from that event that I will share just because it proves that you’re never too old to make an ass of yourself.

So this was my last hurrah prior to rejoining my romance writer sisters and brothers at the RWA National Conference.

Consider this the obligatory vacation slide show.  You have been subjected. The work of Conference would soon begin.

Now, go write.

And congratulations to Gretchen Jones (the young blonde talented designer)  for winning the first challenge and making it to the next round on Project Runway.

Someone posted the question on one of my loops “what do you listen to when you write?”

Normally I write in silence because I’m pretty easily distracted, and when I’m in the zone I tune everything out anyway, but here’s how I responded.

I love acoustic music. For mostly instrumental guitar Tommy Emmanuel(finger style a la Chet Atkins) Tony McManus (Celtic like you’ve never heard before). “Only” is my favorite by Tommy, all of Tony’s CD’s are brilliant with upbeat bagpipe tunes played on the guitar. More brilliant guitar work, but more vocals-Chet Atkins. Two of the best musical storytellers ever are John Prine and John Hartford (Areoplane is a particular favorite).

If you prefer women’s voices Allison Krause (bluegrass and some classic gospel - she sings like an angel and plays fiddle) and for folk I love Flyer by Nanci Griffith, wonderful original ballads and songs of love. Nanci’s lyrics are riveting “he was a flyer for the Airforce on a flight from San Antonio” “we sang songs we knew in Spanish ’cause we both loved songs with language” “he shouted out his name to me as I ran to make my flight.” “I would do anything to see that flyer flying tonight.” I have several of her CD’s and I always go back to them when I need a lift.

Most of these folks have been around for years so they should be easy to find (Tommy and Tony are a bit harder than the others) all lean more toward a folk sound than anything.

The hunks I threatened in my last post are still coming. Have a good week.

Gretchen

to update my blog again.  Well, I suppose it is.  I haven’t really anything new to say.

Mom and Dad are moved.

I have seven or eight new pairs of shoes.  Yes, I am going for the championship at Nationals this year.
This pair of flats are cute (if I do say so myself, and Carla said they were too, so it must be true)

But the pumps I purchased rock.

So I went to the grocery store today and weak girl that I am I popped into a boutique and picked up two dresses, four shirts and a pair of capris.  Now my cute shoes have company.

I am simply a poser though.  The true champions at Nationals are those ladies who have made lists four or more weeks out, planning wardrobe, schedules, meetings, and like that.

About as close to that as I have gotten is to acknowledge that I need to go camping next weekend because I’ll need my swimming suit and my suitcase for the Florida trip.  Both are currently in the trailer at Meg’s place.

I haven’t heard anything from Ms. Lionetti on my manuscript critique yet.  I’m dying a little bit each day that it’s away.  Not really, but I am still very excited about it and waiting patiently.  (if for some reason this post crosses your line of sight, no pressure.  I’m waiting patiently - ok, squirming a bit.)

I attended the memorial services for Max Davidson, of Crosswinds fame (or obscurity depending on whether you follow southern rock in central Kansas) who passed away at 60 last week.

He will be missed.  Face to the wind man, and give my love to Ronnie when you get to the big blue school bus in the sky.
He’ll be waiting with that big teddy bear grin and a sparkle in his bright blue eyes.

Next blog update should be my own tribute to Hunks.  My hunks, the ones that peopled my youth.  They were some hotties.  Yowser!

Danny you should be worried because you’re calendar pose is due to be put up first.

I will remember June 2010 as a month of chapter endings (assuming I remember it at all).  It is the month during which I completed revisions and sent out my first fully formed manuscript for professional critique.  I won a critique in the Do The Write Thing for Nashville auction in May, and yesterday hit send on the email that contained my manuscript as an attachment.

This was the manuscript I began in January 2009 with many doubts in my mind as to whether I was even capable of plotting and completing a fully formed story.  The good news is that I am. The bad news is that the more I write and the more that I learn about writing, the more it seems I need to learn.  This is of course all good.

I’ve come a long way from 2007 and my first novel attempt started during NANOWRIMO.  That manuscript had some very funny moments but no plot to speak of.  I kept trying to create one, but it never really worked.  So when I blew up my characters, burned down the house they lived in and threw the seventy-hundreth version of it under the bed to live in a warren of dust bunnies, I did so with a bit of trepidation knowing that my next attempt had to be approached differently.  I plotted.  It was both scary and rewarding as I figured out what I wanted to write.  I built my plot on the inspiration of real life characters whose tragic lives made me wonder “what if?”

I finished the first draft in November, on my birthday (that’s the way I recall it anyway) which made it eleven months in gestation.  I began Holly Lisle’s, How to Revise Your Novel course when I had no idea how to revise the story and it became better for it.  Lastly I asked a trusted friend and critique group member for a read through.  Her insight allowed me to find the chinks between the stones in the foundation and fill them.  With her help I nailed the last strip of flashing around the chimney and sent my manuscript out the door.  I’ll never be able to thank Heather enough for her help with that.  She is so busy right now, you have no idea.

This is not the only chapter that has ended this month.  Two weeks ago Thursday my parents put their house on the market after an impromptu family dinner where Dad called a friend/real estate agent and by the end of the night a listing contract was ready to sign.  By Sunday we had an interested buyer.  A week later, in the midst of wedding preparations for their eldest granddaughter they somehow managed to sell the house they had lived in for 41 years and buy a condo just a few miles away.

This hasn’t been easy.  There have been more than one sentimental moment as we move my parents to their new home.  A million happy memories are attached to the old one’s walls.   Have my eyes teared up?  I admit to once, the other day as I contemplated my parent’s possible distress at leaving.  Again as I write this I struggle with the inclination to weep.  It is a very good thing that they are moving as they are unable to manage the house as they once did.  The stairs have become too difficult and the house too much for them to maintain.

I am so excited for them, my mother in particular because she’s finally getting what she’s asked for after many many years.  A smaller place on one level that she can manage a bit better than the 100 year old monster they spent the last 40 plus years in.  My father is resigned to the move, and I believe dealing with it the best way he knows how.

Lest you think this month has not been peppered liberally with slapstick please stand corrected.  There are two particular incidents that come to mind.  The first occurred prior to the impending real estate transactions.  I retrieved a pitcher from the china cabinet for dinner one Wednesday  and noticed an odd smell, sort of ammoniac (if that’s a word).  Like a cat peed in there.  My parent’s cat (ok, it was mine) died some twenty years before and is buried out back so I knew it wasn’t the cat’s fault.

Sometimes I don’t see what’s right in front of my face.  There were a variety of objects in there and I played “one of these is not like the other” until it finally registered.  There was a two poundish extremely bumpy and mottled pumpkin-like gourd or squash on the shelf.  I remembered it sitting on the table at Thanksgiving - seven months ago.  Mystery solved.  It had now added bluish grey fuzz to its complement of warts and knobs.

The most recent surprise came when we went through a steamer trunk circa 1865 or so.  It contained some old photos, a family bible and oddly, what we think is probably my grandfather Jones’ first hip replacement.  Fortunately Grampa took his second hip replacement hardware with him when he went.

So now with so many mysteries solved as we crowd the living and dining rooms with cardboard boxes, a few still remain.  We always expected to find half a loaf of Challah (a very large braided loaf of bread) that disappeared one Thanksgiving day. We may find that yet.

This is a peculiar post, but in the way dreams rarely do, it wanted to be written down.  None of it is based in reality. Jenny never lived in a lighthouse or even near the coast.  As far as I know she didn’t collect jewelry.  I barely knew her at all, being too young when she was active, and I only saw her a few times.  But my father and grandmother and various other relatives talked about her all my life, so she became a part of the fabric of my history. Though I never saw the stitches made, somehow there she is.

Last night I dreamt about my Great-aunt Jenny.  Jenny was a pistol.  She was the one who was once rescued by a airline pilot when her wheelchair got loose on one of the rolling walkways at the St. Louis Airport.  She was WHOOOO WHOOOOO-ing down the ramp and a pilot vaulted over the railing and stopped her wheelchair from careening out of control.  I don’t really remember much about her except that she was larger than life though tiny in stature and quite with it until she was ninety-five when she died peacefully in her sleep.

In my dream I had somehow gone to visit her in her home, a lighthouse on a beach thick with a golden sea of salt-grass. Somehow I had become the favored great niece and was quite surprised and pleased with my new status.  Jenny planned to bequeath the lighthouse to me.  I couldn’t believe my good luck and was so honored.  I was seriously contemplating the practical reality of living in a remote and windswept place so far away from my midwestern roots.  It might be lonely, but the peace of such a place, a home so warm and cozy, seemed like something from - quite aptly - a dream.  I walked out in the tall grass on the sandy dunes and felt the wind and the sun on my skin.  There’s a lightness to the sea air where the sky seems to come down to greet you.  You only get that during very odd weather in the midwest.  But there in my dream it lifted me.  Not literally, this was a serious dream after all.  No frivolous flying about for me.

Then the dream changed, the house was full of people who were there for the sorting and the dispensing of all Aunt Jenny’s worldly possessions.  There were trays of jewelry lying about sorted by stones.  Rubies here, emeralds there, sapphires over in the corner, all lovely and ancient.  Worn smooth with time and casual use.

The tray of emerald rings and pins caught my eye and oh, how I would have loved to paw my way through them all.  But it didn’t seem appropriate.  I would never insinuate myself in the middle of the jewelry distribution.  It wasn’t my right.  I would inherit the lighthouse because no one else craved the isolation.  So I silently mourned the pretty things and with a sigh made myself satisfied with the gifts I would receive.

An older woman, in her seventies perhaps, came up to me and introduced herself.  I did know her after all, though we had never met.    She told me in the way of dreams where words know no shape that she loved me and had a gift for me.  I couldn’t understand how this woman held me, a stranger, in such regard, though perhaps we had written to each other across time.

Then she gave me a box lined with satin.  When I looked inside I saw a dozen assorted emeralds, mounted in buttons, pins, and rings.  I was overwhelmed that this woman extended a gift from her heart to a stranger, because she saw that I wanted a piece of a past not my own.  For no good deed or valued purpose, but simply because I was.  It moved me to tears.

When I woke with my eyes still damp, what I remembered most was not the shining bits of gold and gems, but the peace of a windswept place and the sense of acceptance that wrapped around me.  Aunt Jenny still lives larger than life within our memories, and a stranger’s kindness is often the greatest gift of all.

Some things never change. I’m still sitting here trying to keep the cat off the keyboard, it makes typing a challenge. My day job is still driving me crazy but a lot of other things happened that were new and different.

I finished my type-in after more or less completing Holly Lisle’s How to Revise Your Novel course. I thought I would have to put my own eyes out after reading and typing in something like thirty or forty hand written pages. The end result? We’ll see. It may not be the great american novel but it’s complete and there were times when I didn’t think I’d ever be able to do it.

So what now? Well, thanks to the fabulous ladies at Do the Write thing for Nashville I won a full manuscript critique from the very generous Kim Lionetti at BookEnds. The bidding came down to the last two minutes. Can you say HEART ATTACK!  It’s amazing, there are still stars in my eyes from being over the moon about winning. And the money is going to such a good cause - Middle Tennessee Flood Relief.

Those ladies set what the irascible CEO Neil Patterson at Cerner calls BHAG’s Big Hairy Audacious Goals. They decided to hold an auction to raise money with donations from people in the publishing industry. In the process they raised more than $70,000.00. I suspect they had no idea how big or hairy or audacious it was going to be when they started. I think they kicked a ball hoping for a field goal and hit the moon instead.

Their auction is now over, but you can still contribute directly by donating to the Community Foundation of Middle Tennessee through the  dtwtfn blog and T-shirts are coming soon.

Now that I’ve completed a manuscript (well, a 2nd draft anyway) what am I going to do?

Go to Disney World!

Yes, because of the flooding the conference has been moved from Nashville to Orlando and Starwood’s Swan and Dolphin hotel. I’ve stayed there several times before for conferences. Anyone who is going will find a terrific conference venue. And there’s no way to complain about getting to spend the weekend before with one of my oldest friends enjoying the theme parks and celebrating our upcoming semi-centennial birthdays.

So now all I have left to do is wait.

Send the manuscript for critique.
For July to get here.

Start working on my next project.

I posted this on the CHAPLINK RWA loop.  You may find it helpful, or not. My memory is not perfect, but what I’ve written here I believe to be true.  If really important to you double check with the hotel. I can’t be held responsible, I’m a fiction writer. I may have made it up, but I tried to be accurate here.

I’ve been to a couple of conferences at the Swan and Dolphin.  My recollection is that there is wireless in many of the public areas and wired in the guest rooms.  The RWA info said it was free.  I don’t recall paying for it when I attended the IBM Rational user conferences.

Incidentally it is a very big facility and very nice. Plan on more walking than you did in DC or San Francisco. I believe it is not a Disney property but they do everything they can to put on a Disney like “good show”.  I never had any complaints about the rooms, food, or other facilities.  It is however on the pricey side as you would expect.  They do a lot of large conventions in this facility.  It is about the distance of two city blocks between the Swan and Dolphin.  I believe most of the ballrooms are at the Dolphin but there are also smaller meeting rooms over at the Swan as well.  If you have mobility issues plan ahead and ask before you go for anything special you might need.

Parking was about $8.00 per day the last time I was down there with a car. It may have only been for conference center parking.  It is possible that they waive the fee for guests of the hotel, I wouldn’t know for sure. I drove down in 2006 I think.  I went again in 2008 but flew that time.  The rooms are very nice, and in general the facility is beautiful.  The skinks running around the outside of the conference area will amuse some of you.  They’re tiny little lizards and they eat bugs.  They are our friends.

The hotel is adjacent to the Boardwalk area of the Disney Resort and it has lots of restaurants and shops that are not inside the parks (in other words, no cover charge there.)

There may have been a kind of convenience store but no grocery store that I recall unless it was over at the wilderness Campground (where the RV Park is) where some small amount of groceries may have been available. Milk, beverages, liquor (beer and wine anyway), packaged meats etc.  Don’t expect much in the way of fruits or vegetables but you can probably find some cereal etc.

For those of you thinking about the parks that haven’t been there before, ground transportation is abundant between all the hotels and parks and I’m pretty sure it’s free for those staying at any of the resorts and Swan and Dolphin.  It may not always be easy to figure out.  It took me about two hours to get from wilderness campground to Swan and Dolphin the first time I tried.  But once you figure it out it’s pretty easy (that trip narrowed down to about 45 minutes once I had the hang of the bus system).  There are water taxis and buses that will take you point to point between parks.

If you are an RV’er or even tent camper and want to save some money the campground is probably the nicest campground I’ve ever stayed at.  It’s safe, clean and has great services. I would feel very comfortable being there alone in my camper at night. It is quite a distance from the Swan and Dolphin though.  Wilderness Lodge and Wilderness Campground are two different locations however.  There is only camping at the campground.

Ask questions and I’ll do what I can to answer them.  The comments require approval so be patient to see them appear.