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String by Matthew Thorburn

Source: Publisher
Paperback, 84 pgs.
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String by Matthew Thorburn is a poetry collection that tells a story of a boy living through war and explores the thread of loss and memory with precision. Every moment with this boy is unexpected, and his pain becomes our pain. Through these poems, Thorburn gives us an intimate picture of this teenager’s life from the doctor with the cigarettes on his desk to Rosie, who catches his eye.

While there is memory that delights and makes this boy smile, there are other, darker memories that he cannot forget.

They (pg. 11)

liked to throw things
a man down a well a woman
through a window they

liked to know things
names and dates your hopes
what hurt my hiding place

the combination to Saltzman's
empty safe they liked to 
break things doors bicycles

legs and backs and necks
they liked to take things
money gold rings fingernails

and fathers they had
no need for her none for me
except they were hungry so

hungry and so angry
like shadows they liked to hide
behind my back they liked

to ride behind my eyelids
death was their dark horse
they never stood still.

Thorburn’s images bring the reader into each scene. It is harrowing; it is deeply depressing. But there also is light in the survival. What can survive a Holocaust? What can survive a war? What can survive genocide? Our memories, our connections, our stories. We merely have to share them.

Damaged Animal (pg. 12)

The poor white upright
piano scored with
bullet holes they shot it too

then tipped it off
the balcony mangling Rosie's

silver bicycle forever
after a damaged animal
the white keys broken

teeth in the gutter
where their piss trickled

the black keys like
fingers broken in 
black gloves

String by Matthew Thorburn is achingly beautiful and unforgettable. The story will have you turning the pages as if it were a novel. The imagery is searing and heartbreaking. If you are on the lookout for a narrative poetry collection with a cohesive story, this is one for you. Thorburn is at his best here.

RATING: Cinquain

Other Reviews:

About the Poet:

Matthew Thorburn’s new book of poems is String, published by Louisiana State University Press in March 2023. He’s also the author of seven previous collections, including The Grace of Distance, a finalist for the Paterson Poetry Prize; the book-length poem Dear Almost, honored with the Lascaux Prize in Collected Poetry; and A Green River in Spring, winner of the Coal Hill Review chapbook competition. ​His work has been recognized with a Witter Bynner Fellowship from the Library of Congress, the Mississippi Review Prize, and fellowships from the Bronx and New Jersey arts councils and the Sewanee Writers’ Conference. A native of Michigan and for many years a New Yorker, he lives with his family in small-town New Jersey.

Our Wolves by Luanne Castle

Source: Purchased
Paperback, 37 pgs.
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Our Wolves by Luanne Castle is a chapbook that hinges on the tale of Little Red Riding Hood, in which Castle explores themes of identity, feminism, and gender. Red is no longer merely a victim in these tales, she’s feisty and strong-willed, and in some ways she’s manipulative. Granny even plays a more integral role and explores what it means to be the excuse in a story. Castle also brings to the fore the role of the hunter and/or wood cutter found in folklore.

From “A Snowy Night in Manistee River Valley” (pg. 10), “I need to get outside,/let the chill wind wake me to myself./If it gets me, I’ll be clearheaded enough/to see what has substance, sharp enough/” There are often wolves that lurk in the dark of our minds, and here we see that isolation can breed some of that darkness and fear.

From "School for Girls Who Shouldn't Trust" (pg. 13)

...
Just kneel them down to check their hems,
keep their thighs covered, their minds intent.
Let them learn karate and debate to live with
men and beasts without damage or regret.
Nobody warns them about the animal calls
or signs that susurrate through the drainpipes.
....

There is so much to love in this collection and Castle’s imagination. Her poems provide us an alternate story, but they are by no means a retelling of Red’s tale. It is more a psychological exploration of characters in a tale where a young girl becomes/is a victim. How tired are we of this trope as women? We need to be saved? We are only victims and incomplete without the man in our lives to save us. How many times have we been in charge of our own destinies for better or worse? Castle explores all of these questions and scenarios while illuminating the wolves we face within and outside of ourselves.

Our Wolves by Luanne Castle may be few pages but they pack a powerful punch. Castle never ceases to surprise me as a reader.

RATING: Cinquain

About the Poet:

Luanne Castle lives in Arizona, next to a wash that wildlife use as a thoroughfare. She has published two full-length poetry collections, Rooted and Winged (Finishing Line Press 2022) and Doll God (Aldrich/Kelsay 2015), which won the New Mexico-Arizona Book Award for Poetry. Kin Types (Finishing Line Press 2017), a chapbook of poetry and flash nonfiction, was a finalist for the Eric Hoffer Award. Our Wolves (Alien Buddha Press 2023) is her second chapbook. Luanne’s Pushcart and Best of the Net-nominated poetry and prose have appeared in Copper Nickel, American Journal of Poetry, Pleiades, River Teeth, TAB, Verse Daily, Saranac Review, and other journals.

Mailbox Monday #728

Mailbox Monday has become a tradition in the blogging world, and many of us thank Marcia of The Printed Page for creating it.

It now has its own blog where book bloggers can link up their own mailbox posts and share which books they bought or which they received for review from publishers, authors, and more.

Emma, Martha, and I also will share our picks from everyone’s links in the new feature Books that Caught Our Eye. We hope you’ll join us.

Here’s what I received:

Thank You for Listening by Julia Whelan, audio borrowed from the library.

For Sewanee Chester, being an audiobook narrator is a long way from her old dreams, but the days of being a star on film sets are long behind her. She’s found success and satisfaction from the inside of a sound booth and it allows her to care for her beloved, ailing grandmother. When she arrives in Las Vegas last-minute for a book convention, Sewanee unexpectedly spends a whirlwind night with a charming stranger.

On her return home, Sewanee discovers one of the world’s most beloved romance novelists wanted her to perform her last book—with Brock McNight, the industry’s hottest, most secretive voice. Sewanee doesn’t buy what romance novels are selling—not after her own dreams were tragically cut short—and she stopped narrating them years ago. But her admiration of the late author, and the opportunity to get her grandmother more help, makes her decision for her.

As Sewanee begins work on the book, resurrecting her old romance pseudonym, she and Brock forge a real connection, hidden behind the comfort of anonymity. Soon, she is dreaming again, but secrets are revealed, and the realities of life come crashing down around her once more.

If she can learn to risk everything for desires she has long buried, she will discover a world of intimacy and acceptance she never believed would be hers.

What did you receive?

National Poetry Month 2023

Welcome to National Poetry Month!

I encourage everyone to read poetry this month or take in a reading near you.

Every day, you can get a poem in inbox!

On April 26 at 7 p.m., the Academy of American Poets will host its virtual Poetry & the Creative Mind gala. You can register for free or make a donation.

If you’re a teacher, here are some classroom resources to help your students celebrate poetry.

Virtual Poetry Circle: Kenn Nesbitt

April Fool's Day

Mackenzie put a whoopie cushion
on the teacher’s chair.
Makayla told the teacher
that a bug was in her hair.

Alyssa brought an apple
with a purple gummy worm
and gave it to the teacher
just to see if she would squirm.

Elijah left a piece of plastic
dog doo on the floor,
and Vincent put some plastic vomit
in the teacher’s drawer.

Amanda put a goldfish
in the teacher’s drinking glass.
These April Fool’s Day pranks
are ones that you could use in class.

Before you go and try them, though,
there’s something I should mention:
The teacher wasn’t fooling
when she put us in detention.

What April Fool’s pranks have you played on family, friends, and dare I say in school?

Guest Post, Excerpt, and Giveaway: The Sailor’s Rest by Don Jacobson

Please welcome Don Jacobson to the blog today as part of his blog tour for The Sailor’s Rest. I love both Pride & Prejudice and Persuasion because they both have strong characters and couples.

About the Book:

The Sailor’s Rest is inspired by Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion and is set on the stage of Napoleon’s 100 Days. Discover how the two betrothed couples—Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy, along with Frederick Wentworth and Anne Elliot—find their love tried by separation, battle, and deception.

The novel immerses readers first in a mystery, then a sea chase, and, finally, a satisfying comeuppance. From the tattered rooms of a waterfront inn to three frigates engaged in a deadly game of naval chess, readers will experience the yearning as four hearts come closer to one another. Before the tale ends, the audience will step into the gilded confines of London’s preeminent card room.

Check out today’s Don Jacobson’s Guest Post, Taking Austen to Sea:

Many Pride and Prejudice variations find their scenic—if not plot—context in the hills surrounding Longbourn and Pemberley, the rooms of Austen’s notable estates or adjacent gardens, or town drawing rooms and parks. This works perfectly in most instances when the focus solely rests on the complex ballet between the undeclared lovers as they seek to overcome social barriers and their notions. Little reference to the outside world is needed beyond the requisite nods to snobbery and money.

On the other hand, I see Jane Austen as a writer of historical fiction who did not feel any need to explore the framework in which her stories existed because her readers knew the 4-1-1 about Regency society and world history. The horizons were nearer, and the crowds through which one moved were smaller. Austen’s power as a commentator about the human condition in the first decades of the Eighteenth Century comes from writing for an audience who knew the context.

After completing the final book in the Bennet Wardrobe series, I cast about for a story idea upon which I could focus my experimental impulse. As readers have seen, I am a fan of solid plotlines that allow the characters to reveal more about themselves than a conversation over a cup of tea during a morning call.

That led me to a logical pairing of Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion: Austen’s novels that feature the strongest four protagonists. As I began The Sailor’s Rest, I considered the effect of these two pairings in the same book without falling into the trap of making Frederick and Anne the Bingley and Jane of the work: present and important to Elizabeth and Darcy in a literary sense, but not crucial to the outcome. I am of the school that Darcy’s making of amends in the Bingley/Jane scenario seeded the ground for Elizabeth’s final understanding of his character after he resolves the Lydia/Wickham imbroglio.

This worry led me to consider Persuasion before P&P. Persuasion’s setting is Somersetshire, the coastal county hovering above the Bristol Channel. Hertfordshire and Derbyshire are distant from the English Channel and North Sea and would have been unnatural for Frederick Wentworth’s tale. Thus, it seemed easier to move Darcy, Elizabeth, and Anne into Wentworth’s and Croft’s worlds.

The captain’s realm is one of water and war. Austen asserts that Wentworth returns a successful and wealthy frigate captain after the seven-year separation. What she does not explore is how he arrived at that station. That led me to conclude that a naval story, where Wentworth’s life provides the context and thus is thoroughly unfamiliar with the other main characters, would best serve my goals.

In The Sailor’s Rest, the book’s second act plays out on the Mediterranean stage. We see Darcy and Wentworth in their guises of Will Smith and Fred Tomkins seeking to survive captivity aboard the British frigate Persephone. Anne and Elizabeth, protected by Admiral Alfred Croft and Mrs. Sophie Croft, are pursuing the other ship aboard the frigate Naiad.

Setting The Sailor’s Rest in small spaces, be they a private dining parlor, a coach and four, or a frigate, would allow the characters to rub tightly together until they step away to find that space their hearts and souls require to breathe. This is my literary application of the architectural philosophy of compression and expansion. The ocean’s limitlessness allows the already betrothed couples—yes, I decided that another dance about how ODC or F & A came together would not illuminate—to reflect on their respective loves and voice their deepest fears. Darcy can no more jump on his stallion’s back and ride across the fields than Elizabeth can “scamper” to Oakham Mount. Both must deny physical outlets and face what besets them.

Before closing, I wish to emphasize that the battle sequence in the middle of the book is essential for readers to fully comprehend how different, yet how similar, Wentworth and Darcy are to each. They are decisive men, needing to determine a course of action and not quail from it, although with different potential outcomes. As Wentworth smiled to Darcy, “One difference I would be happy to point out is that your success is not contingent upon blasting holes in a neighboring estate.”

GIVEAWAY:

For 1 of 10 copies of The Sailor’s Rest, ENTER HERE.

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Today’s Excerpt: Please enjoy this excerpt from The Sailor’s Rest. ©2023 by Donald P. Jacobson. Reproduction prohibited. Published in the United States of America.

From Chapter 18
Naiad, NW of Port Mahon, April 9, 1815

The evening beneath the snowy canvas sky was magical. Inky channels rippled between creamy billows, recalling the Abbey, albeit made from air, thread, and imagination. The restless tacking as the ship worked its way north through the Balearic Sea toward Toulon pushed the Milky Way’s starry belt one side and then the other of the bowsprit’s black finger scribing the moonless sky. The sirocco had diminished, although the wind blew warm and humid from the southwest. Clouds rose above the waters but fled before the ship, making Naiad’s passage smoother.

Anne and Elizabeth stepped past the marine guarding the great cabin and made their way forward. A shadow whisper walked behind them, never coming too close to violate their privacy but never too distant to be unable to rescue them.

The women strolled arm-in-arm along a deck slightly heeled over in concert with the starboard tack. The crew that kept Naiad working toward their goal was invisible in the night’s gloom. Seen from above, the ladies floated, their light gowns blending seamlessly with the deck boards. They appeared like bergs calved from the canvas peaks above and drifting along the moon-darkened surface. This image was only a figment for the waters through which Naiad drove had never seen ice in this age.

The two misses were not unseen, just unremarked upon, by the silent watchers.

Passengers they may have been, that was true: what would have been equally valid was that the Naiad’s crew owned as if theirs the voyage suc was the nobility of the mission. Through dim nights on the gundeck, before they crawled into the hammocks, they had heard stories told by those who had their letters of Camelot’s knights. In those tales, the damsels in distress were held in dark castles or deep caves and guarded by fell beasts and witch’s spells.

Their quarry fled before them, trailing its coat upon the restless sea. ’Twas manned by those unknown. That unfamiliarity allowed the granting of malicious traits bordering on the ancient images of men who kicked the law to the side and raised piracy’s black banner. None were good; all were evil and examples of what men can become if not ruled by the Articles of War. They were a scourge, a cancer in civilization’s innards.

In such thoughts lay the courage sailors need when facing water-borne war. Boarding parties would crouch below railings waiting for the order to leap onto the opposing ship. Contrary to instinct, they would clamber over the boarding nets, running toward, not away, from mayhem. Mates fighting alongside on all compass points gave surcease. Officers would make for the quarterdeck and the flag. Cutlass-bearing, mallet-wielding sailors—peasants they were not instead standing on the field like King Harry’s men-at-arms—would clear the forecastle and venture below decks.

They doubted that the men of their target—even though British sailors—would fight with the same ardor as they. After all, was there a better fighting vessel than the Nimble Nymph: her figurehead soaring above the waves clad in gilt and calcedony? Perhaps they were deluded, but if it was fantasy, then it was one familiar the world over and held tightly by frightened men throughout history. Otherwise, they would quail at the thought of intentionally wading into a clutch of desperate sailors fighting for their lives.

There was one complication and not a minor one. While Naiad had bypassed Gibraltar, a messenger boat had raced from the harbor bearing the news that Napoleon had fled his gilded cage on Elba and was marching toward Paris. With the Emperor on the loose, the reconstituted French Royal Navy had raised the Tricoleur. Although the British had reduced that service across twenty-plus years, it could still float many a frigate to harry unsuspecting commerce and bring death and destruction to British warships doing their duty. That added an element of uncertainty to their pursuit of Persephone.

Somewhere, out of sight, their prey waited. Whether Naiad would be the hunter or the hunted was a story yet to be written. The coming confrontation would be neither civilized nor simple.

However, at this moment, suspended between darkling waters and the brilliant sphere punctured by crystalline points, contemplative peace was known by those who strolled on the deck.

About the Author:

Don Jacobson has written professionally for forty years, from news and features to advertising, television, and radio. His work has been nominated for Emmys and other awards. He has previously published five books, all nonfiction. In 2016, he published the first volume of The Bennet Wardrobe Series, The Keeper: Mary Bennet’s Extraordinary Journey. Since then, Meryton Press re-edited and republished Keeper and the subsequent six volumes in the series. In 2022, Meryton Press published the eighth and final book in the series—The Grail: The Saving of Elizabeth Darcy. Other Meryton Press books by Jacobson include Lessers and Betters, In Plain Sight, and The Longbourn Quarantine. All his works are also available as audiobooks (Audible).

Jacobson holds an advanced degree in history. As a college instructor, he taught United States history, world history, the history of western civilization, and research writing. He is in his third career as an author and is a JASNA and Regency Fiction Writers member. He is also a member of the Always Austen collective. Check out his newsletter.

On Black Sisters Street by Chika Unigwe (audio)

Source: Library
Audiobook; 9+ hrs.
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On Black Sisters Street by Chika Unigwe, narrated by Chinasa Ojbuagu, is my 4th book for the 12 books 12 friends reading challenge.

***Those who have been raped, sexually assaulted, or human/sexually trafficked, be warned that this book is graphic and triggering.***

Sisi, Ama, Efe, and Joyce are four different women from Africa who come to Antwerp, Belgium, in pursuit of independence and finances for their own dreams in an unforgiving business of sex. Chinasa Ojbuagu‘s narration was not as differentiated as I would have liked for each character, and the story lines are fragmented, shifting from present to past, but it didn’t distract from the compelling story of these women.

While in Belgium, they each focus on their goals and share little of their real selves with the women they share an apartment with. Each has Madam and their pimp Dele in common, but their reasons for coming to Europe vary. In this book, desire is the main motivator – the desire for a better life among women under the thumb of men and society and for money as Dele and Madam use “slaves” to achieve their own dreams.

This novel is nothing but horrifying. There’s so much desire for a better life that these women are blinded by it, but at the same time, these women have faced significant trauma in their childhoods. Where is the bottom? Is there a new bottom? Or is the choice to sell yourself to men an empowering decision? This is muddled in the narrative because the trauma they face in their own nations would be a low point, but coming to Europe is not the freedom they expect it to be.

On Black Sisters Street by Chika Unigwe is stark in its horror, and remember these are real people’s lives (not just the lives of these characters). Reality can be the most horrifying thing you can face.

RATING: Quatrain

About the Author:

Chika Unigwe was born in Enugu, Nigeria, and now lives in Turnhout, Belgium, with her husband and four children. She writes in English and Dutch.

In April 2014 she was selected for the Hay Festival’s Africa39 list of 39 Sub-Saharan African writers aged under 40 with potential and talent to define future trends in African literature.
.
Unigwe holds a BA in English Language and Literature from the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, and an MA from the Catholic University of Leuven, Belgium. She also holds a PhD from the University of Leiden, The Netherlands, having completed a thesis entitled “In the shadow of Ala. Igbo women writing as an act of righting” in 2004.

Above Ground by Clint Smith

Source: Publisher
Paperback, 128 pgs.
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Above Ground by Clint Smith explores the impact of parenthood on a worldview, and how our historical institutions and personal histories influence their parenting, and how the social and political turmoil can creep into your life.

The collection opens with “All at Once” provides readers an opening sense of overwhelm. Everything is happening simultaneously in different places from the child learning to walk to the wildfires destroying the forest to teachers calling parents about good deeds of students to scientists finding a vaccine to a mother getting the sad news that cancer has returned. All of it is overwhelming in so many ways, much like becoming a parent can be. Isn’t that when the worries start piling up?

Smith’s poems are fundamental and sweet — the anticipation of a child’s birth even across miles and over FaceTime. But they also can call us to the chopping block like in “When People Say ‘We Have Made it Through Worse Before'”: “But there is/no solace in rearranging language to make a different word/tell the same lie. Sometimes the moral arc of the universe//does not bend in a direction that comforts us./ (pg. 12) and in “Roots” where the narrator reminds us: “Your life is only possible because of his ability/to have walked through this country on fire/without turning into ash.” (pg. 25)

“Lines in the Sand” is a poem that should speak to every parent and should tell our policymakers to rethink their actions. I cannot begin to tell you how emotional the lines in the poem are. “Legacy” is another of my favorites. It is just beautiful.

Above Ground by Clint Smith is more than a collection about parenting and parenthood. It’s about the care we should take with all the children, with our Earth, and with our own lives. We should not be idle and we should take our own steps to make things better. We want to stay alive, we must act, not be idle.

RATING: Cinquain

About the Poet:

Clint Smith is a staff writer at The Atlantic. He is the author of the narrative nonfiction book, How the Word Is Passed: A Reckoning With the History of Slavery Across America, which was a #1 New York Times bestseller, winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award for Nonfiction, the Hillman Prize for Book Journalism, the Stowe Prize, the Dayton Literary Peace Prize, and selected by the New York Times as one of the 10 Best Books of 2021. He is also the author of the poetry collection Counting Descent, which won the 2017 Literary Award for Best Poetry Book from the Black Caucus of the American Library Association and was a finalist for an NAACP Image Award. His forthcoming poetry collection, Above Ground, will be published March 28, 2023.

Guest Post, Excerpt & Giveaway: The Bennets: Providence & Perception by K.C. Cowan

The Bennets: Providence & Perception by K.C. Cowan focuses on Mary, the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet and one of the last children in the house. Stories about Mary often focus on her piety, but here Cowan takes that piety on a different journey.

Let’s read a little bit about the book, and then read the excerpt:

Poor Miss Bennet—with three sisters married, she will no doubt be left “on the shelf” unless she takes steps to secure her own happiness. So, with the arrival of Mr. Yarby, a handsome new rector for Longbourn chapel, Mary decides to use her Biblical knowledge to win his heart.

Meanwhile, her recently widowed fatherfinds himself falling for the older sister of his new reverend. But Mr. Bennet is officially in mourning for his late wife—what a scandalous situation! Unfortunately, Longbourn’s heir, Mr. Collins, has the antennae for a scandal and makes blackmail threats.

Will an overheard conversation between the Yarby siblings break Mary’s heart? Or will it impel her to a desperate act that threatens everyone’s hopes for lasting love?

Please check out this excerpt, which I hope will leave you wanting more:

Mary was walking towards the parsonage in hopes of another Bible study session with Mr. Yarby. It was an unusually sunny and warm day for February—a bit of a false spring—and Mary was in a happy mood as she walked along the lane. She had decided on this visit to ask Mr. Yarby whether they could discuss some of the women of the New Testament. Her plan was to then steer the topic from their love of the Lord to a discussion of love in general. She felt it was past time for him to declare himself, and she was quite certain he only needed the right prompt to feel able to speak his own heart’s feelings. After all, had he not comforted her tenderly when she was distraught after her father was shot? They had nearly kissed, after all—at least, Mary believed that was his intention. Would he have acted so if he did not care? Mary was certain he only needed the proper encouragement to declare himself.

As she approached the front door of the parsonage, she saw the rectory maid, Ellen, scrubbing the front steps. The girl looked up from her work.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Miss Bennet. This weather is so fine, I decided it was a good time to scrub the winter’s mud and muck off the stone steps. Have you come to pay a visit? Everyone is sittin’ outside in the back, enjoyin’ some cake and homemade wine in this lovely sunshine. Please go on through.” She gestured for Mary to step over her work.

“Oh, Ellen, I should hate to place my dirty boots right over your nice, clean steps and add to your work. I shall walk around; I know the way.”

“Thank you kindly, miss.” Ellen smiled and returned to her work.

As she walked around the side of the parsonage, Mary tried to think of a way she could get Mr. Yarby away from his sister and brother so they could have a private meeting.

I would much rather be with him alone than just have this turn into a social call.

Mary could hear laughter as she approached the back of the house, then familiar voices. She knew she should not eavesdrop, but an odd feeling made her slow her steps, and then hesitate a moment to listen to the conversation.

“It is quite pathetic, actually, feigning such an interest in the Bible just to get close to you, Robert,” Mary heard Amelia say. “Even if she has not done so of late.”

“Now, now—don’t be too hard on the poor girl, Amelia,” Phillip replied. “She is only seeking what all young women want — a husband. Although personally, I must question her choice. After all, I believe we can agree I am far more handsome than Robert.” There was loud laughter at this. “But at least he is respectable,” he concluded.

“She may see it as an advantageous match, I suppose,” Robert replied. “But I swear to you both I have given her no reason to think I see her as anything other than the daughter of my employer.”

“I absolutely agree,” said Amelia. “And I am proud that you have not been unguarded or careless in your behavior towards her at all. No one could call you out for toying with her affections; you have not compromised her one whit. Just take care you continue in such a manner. Otherwise, it could give rise to hopes and expectations that have no basis in reality and would just … complicate things. Well … perhaps she will give up this folly soon. You, of course, should pursue your choice of bride. When will you declare yourself to her, by the way? This constant mooning over her in private will not do!” she teased.

“I shall, but I must be certain of the lady’s own affections,” Mr. Yarby said seriously.

Amelia laughed. “Oh, there is little doubt of her feelings, I am confident.”

“Then there is her father to consider.”

“I can’t imagine there would be any objection on that score,” said Phillip. “Do not wait too long, little brother. That will clear the way for me, as well.”

Mary clasped both hands over her mouth to keep the moan that seemed to rise from deep within her from escaping. Her entire body began to tremble, and she was barely aware of her own steps as she carefully backed away. Hardly able to breathe, she turned and began to hurry away, stumbling out of the side garden, and only nodding in reply when Ellen called, “Oh, are you not staying then, miss?”

What do you think? I think Mary is on the road to self-discovery and learning how eavesdropping might not be the best idea.

BONUS Guest Post on Language by KC Cowan:

I enjoy reading all sorts of books. But I have a particular fondness for Regency-based stories and Jane Austen—both the original and the many, many variations and sequels of her classics. The reason these books appeal to me is because of the wonderful characters and plots, of course. But if I’m being entirely honest, it also nearly always comes down to this one thing: the lovely and genteel manners of the era. There were so many “rules” of etiquette and behavior back then and while it must have been difficult to navigate in some ways, what I like most is how polite people generally were to each other.

Being polite doesn’t mean there was never any criticism — indeed, Jane Austen herself was renowned for her wit and for poking fun at many  — from the snooty elites of the era as well as the lowly, but pompous parson. But were people crude? Rude? Almost never! It all comes down to the elegance of the language.

For example, in our current times, you might say, “What the heck are you talking about?” when confused about something. However, it is so much more elegant to say, “Forgive me—I do not have the pleasure of understanding you.”

How about “I abhor him in every way,” rather than “I can’t stand his guts?” Or “What an amiable gentleman” versus “He’s a pretty good guy.” Or my very favorite: “I am all astonishment!” So much classier than “I couldn’t believe my ears!”

The lovely language just immediately takes you back to a place and time when good manners and courtesy were valued and practiced with regularity. We all know what a tremendous insult it was when Lizzy accuses Darcy of his lack of gentlemanly behavior during his offer of marriage. A greater slight one cannot give to a man who considers himself a true gentleman.

There is a marvelous new book, Say it Like Miss Austen by Stefan Scheuremann. It is a Jane Austen Phrase Thesaurus. You can look up any topic to find the correct language of the time. For example, under Not Communicating you learn that the Austen way of saying “I was speechless” would be “I could not frame a sentence.” I only recently found this book, but I certainly could have used it when writing The Bennets!

Of course, the other challenge of writing a period story is that you must also be careful not to choose words that were not in common usage in the late 1700’s and early 1800’s. That is where a good dictionary is invaluable. Down at the very bottom of a definition of a word you will usually find when the word first came into practice and common use. I learned that while “excite” was used in Jane Austen’s time—as in “I should not wish to excite your anticipation,” the first person description “excited” was not used until 1855! So, instead of “we are so excited to have you come visit,” you’d have to write “We are filled with eager anticipation.” And once again, it’s so much prettier than modern speech.

I had an initial editor who marked up my first draft with “WC” (word choice) by anything she wanted me to check. More than half the time, she was correct! Does it take more time? Yes! But if you are a true lover of the Regency Era language, it’s so important to get it right.

Isn’t the English language and its evolution so fascinating? I know I’m intrigued. I have an entomology reference guide, but I may need to pick up these books if I ever write a regency romance.

About the Author:

KC Cowan spent her professional life working in the media as a news reporter in Portland, Oregon for KGW-TV, KPAM-AM and KXL-AM radio, and as original host and story producer for a weekly arts program on Oregon Public Television. She is co-author of the fantasy series: Journey to Wizards’ Keep, The Hunt for Winter, and Everfire. The Hunt for Winter and Everfire were both awarded First Place OZMA citations from Chanticleer International Book Awards for fantasy writing.

KC is also the author of two other books: “The Riches of a City” – the story of Portland, Oregon, and “They Ain’t Called Saints for Nothing!” in collaboration with artist Chris Haberman, a tongue-in-cheek look at saints. She is married and lives in Tucson, Arizona.

Follow her on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

GIVEAWAY:

Meryton Press will be giving away 1 eBook. Enter below with a comment by April 3.

Please leave an email for me to contact you.

Mailbox Monday #727

Mailbox Monday has become a tradition in the blogging world, and many of us thank Marcia of The Printed Page for creating it.

It now has its own blog where book bloggers can link up their own mailbox posts and share which books they bought or which they received for review from publishers, authors, and more.

Emma, Martha, and I also will share our picks from everyone’s links in the new feature Books that Caught Our Eye. We hope you’ll join us.

Here’s what I received:

Flare Corona by Jeannine Hall Gailey, which I purchased.

Against a constellation of solar weather events and evolving pandemic, Jeannine Hall Gailey’sFlare, Corona paints a self-portrait of the layered ways that we prevail and persevere through illness and natural disaster.

Gailey deftly juxtaposes odd solar and weather events with the medical disasters occurring inside her own brain and body— we follow her through a false-alarm terminal cancer diagnosis, a real diagnosis of MS, and finally the onset of the coronavirus pandemic. The solar flare and corona of an eclipse becomes the neural lesions in her own personal “flare,” which she probes with both honesty and humor. While the collection features harbingers of calamity, visitations of wolves, blood moons, apocalypses, and plagues, at the center of it all are the poet’s attempts to navigate a fraught medical system, dealing with a series of challenging medical revelations, some of which are mirages and others that are all too real.

In Flare, Corona, Jeannine Hall Gailey is incandescent and tender-hearted, gracefully insistent on teaching us all of the ways that we can live, all of the ways in which we can refuse to do anything but to brilliantly and stubbornly survive.

Bargaining with the Fall by Alison Palmer, which I purchased.

A father’s accidental death propels a journey through loss & grieving for poet Alison Palmer.

“Where do you find painlessness,” Alison Palmer asks in the opening line of her new poetry collection written in response to the accidental fall that first paralyzed her father, and ultimately killed him. It’s a question nearly all of us will ask eventually. Death being a universal experience, it’s the rare poet who can find a way to write of grief in an original way; but Palmer is that rare poet, and as we accompany her through her process of losing her father, we feel not only her specific loss, but the cavernous absence that results from every death. A man for whom “gravity / used to be your passion” is reduced to “Hospital / Creature, Room 802” (as we learn the meaning of “tetraplegia”); and then is reduced further to ashes that she wishes she could “form back into limbs that work.” “I failed / to save the whole of you,” she laments; but really, she does save him, for he lives vividly in her verse. There is a crushing moment when she recalls her favorite photo with him, “our foreheads / press together,” a gesture repeated near the end of his life when he asks her to “Put your head on mine, the only place left you can feel.” “I’m mostly made of bruises” she says at the close. So are we all, once life is done with us – that is, if we have been fortunate enough to be grazed by love, and its loss.

“In this beautiful book, Alison Palmer bargains not only with the fall that caused her father’s paralysis and subsequent death–wishing, dreaming, denying–but also with the vicissitudes of grief itself, ‘rationing out reality in doses.’ In poems of intimate address, she finds a wealth of image and metaphor to evoke her lost father: he is ‘part of the woven sun,’ or stars, or moon; he is ashes, and the box that contains them; he is ‘the smallest ship in the rain.’ And she? “Remember how I keep you human,” she says, and she does, with these heartbreaking poems.”–Martha Collins, author of Casualty Reports

“If Hamlet had not loved his father, there would have been no tragedy. What makes death so terrifying is the way it cuts off our access to the person it takes from us, leaving us only the supernatural or the imagination through which to maintain that connection between the living and the gone. Alison Palmer’s search for solace takes the form of elegiac poems, visitations with her father’s memory as well as conversations with and about ‘the cheating god who / dismantled you.’ Summoning all the powers of language, this poet journeys into the dark caverns of mortality and sets even the bees to mourning. It is a courageous, lyrical, moving collection; one that refuses to surrender to loss.”–D.A. Powell, author of Repast: Tea, Lunch & Cocktails

“‘We let / the deep of a darker laughter pretend to be / the kind of god we seek,’ writes Alison Palmer in her new collection, Bargaining with the Fall, inferring the tattered ribbons we stitch together to cover unfathomable grief provides only momentary comfort. Bodies shut down, drift away, reduce to ashes, and what’s left– ‘flakes of scalp in your brush,’ lock boxes with missing keys, ‘bitsy insides of honeysuckle’–must be the heavy remnants that compel us onward, a sort of patchwork identity borne out of absence. These poems–lyrical, inventive, spare–remind us that while ‘faith in the body owes us nothing,’ grief is a negotiation not with what is lost, but with who we must become. We unravel, certainly, but we also spill into something new, into something we have never been before. Palmer shows us we are never too far from being lifted into ‘silver fountains,’ into ‘creeks that rise like open palms,’ into the air of a ‘hundred thousand / wings too small for true sorrow.'”–Nils Michals, author of Gembox

Four Aunties and a Wedding by Jesse Q. Sutanto, borrowed from the library.

Meddy Chan has been to countless weddings, but she never imagined how her own would turn out. Now the day has arrived, and she can’t wait to marry her college sweetheart, Nathan. Instead of having Ma and the aunts cater to her wedding, Meddy wants them to enjoy the day as guests. As a compromise, they find the perfect wedding vendors: a Chinese-Indonesian family-run company just like theirs. Meddy is hesitant at first, but she hits it off right away with the wedding photographer, Staphanie, who reminds Meddy of herself, down to the unfortunately misspelled name.

Meddy realizes that is where their similarities end, however, when she overhears Staphanie talking about taking out a target. Horrified, Meddy can’t believe Staphanie and her family aren’t just like her own, they are The Family—actual mafia, and they’re using Meddy’s wedding as a chance to conduct shady business. Her aunties and mother won’t let Meddy’s wedding ceremony become a murder scene—over their dead bodies—and will do whatever it takes to save her special day, even if it means taking on the mafia.

What did you receive?