Top Five Ways Historical Writers Go Wrong

Writing any book is tough enough, but stepping back in time to create characters from previous centuries presents a yawning trap for today's writers. As an author myself, I struggle with anachronisms -- for instance, I only recently learned that the term "grandfather clock" wasn't in common use until the late 1800s -- after an 1876 song called "My Grandfather's Clock" became popular. Before that, they were called "longcase clocks.")

But it isn't just material goods that create problems for historical writers. Here are the top five ways we all tend to get it wrong:

Using modern speech. We’re so used to our ordinary way of talking that modern expressions often slip into our characters’ dialogue and thoughts. While expressions like “Get a grip” and “I haven’t got a clue” are pretty obvious, others aren’t quite so easy to weed out. Like the nineteenth-century character who tells his grandson, “I don’t like the people you’re hanging around with.” Or the narrator of a novel set in 1066 who says, “They took off into the woods.” Or the Regency heroine who says the hero has derailed her train of thought – before trains and rails were commonplace. Or a hero from the 1820s who says, “I didn’t come here to be analyzed like some patient in a mental asylum” – 70 years before Sigmund Freud developed psychoanalysis. A more subtle (but still disconcerting) example is the heroine who says to the hero, “You think everything is all about you, Your Grace.” 

Including modern attitudes. Far too often in romance fiction, people who were supposedly born and reared in the 1300s or the 1500s or the 1800s think and talk and behave as though they just stepped out of Starbucks holding a latte. It’s true that in order to appeal to today’s reader, main characters tend to be more modern in outlook than their real life peers would have been. But when characters don’t even stop and think about it before they spout today’s perspectives on things like religion, lifestyles and women’s rights, or when they display today’s understanding of psychology, hygiene, nutrition, and medicine, it’s tough to make the reader believe they’re real.

Messing up titles. The most common error when it comes to using aristocratic titles is using the wrong form of address, or using multiple forms of address for the same person. Lady Sarah Winchester isn’t the same person as Lady Winchester is. (Lady Sarah is the daughter of a peer, Lady Winchester is Lord Winchester’s wife.) Lord Winchester isn’t the same person as Lord Randolph Winchester. (Lord Randolph Winchester is the younger son of a duke or a marquess, Lord Winchester is the big cheese himself.) Sir James Smythe is always Sir James, not Sir Smythe. When the author doesn’t realize there’s a big difference between variations which seem so small, it’s easy to dismiss the story entirely.

 Not understanding the rules of inheritance. In the eras most commonly used in historical fiction, illegitimate sons could not inherit titles – period. Oldest sons could not be bypassed in favor of younger ones. Daughters could not pass along titles, except for a very few cases by royal decree. Most often, all the land and money was left to the eldest son. I remember an author who made her heroine a duchess… but not by having her marry a duke, which would be the only way for her to achieve that rank. Instead, this heroine got her title because her grandmother, who was the previous duchess, abdicated and bypassed her daughter in favor of her granddaughter. That’s at least three kinds of impossible.

Just plain getting it wrong. Why bother to look it up when we can make it up? It’s tempting to assume that our vague recollection of the timeline is accurate, or figure that if some other historical author used it, we don’t need to check for ourselves.

A few prize-winning examples: The Regency hero and heroine who honeymooned on an ocean liner – decades before ocean travel started to be comfortable. The maid who says to her mistress, “It’s chilly; you should wear your wool kid gloves” – they can’t be both wool and leather. The hero and heroine who run away from a London ball to Gretna Green, arriving there early the next morning – but traveling 320 miles took at least 36 hours in those days. A Regency hero and heroine who get married at St. George’s Cathedral – St. George’s Hanover Square is a simple parish church, not a cathedral.

This trap yawns equally wide for authors writing in other historical periods. Take a Viking romance which refers to potatoes – five centuries before they were introduced to Europe. Or a story set in 1949 where the narrator says, “He passed out after we hit the interstate” – years before the interstate highway system was even proposed.

Some of these things sound pretty obvious when we look at them in a list. But beware – they can sneak up and attack us when we’re not paying attention.

This blog was first posted on Sitting on the Porch with Kelly, hosted by author Kelly Abell. 

Top Ten --Er, Six -- Pet Peeves in Historical Romances

I admit it, I'm a fan of historical romance. Always have been, even long before I started writing it. But I have to say there are some things that drive me straight round the bend and make me toss a book aside...

1. Getting the titles wrong. Lady Sarah Winchester isn't the same person as Lady Winchester is, and when the author gets it wrong, it's easy to dismiss the story entirely.

(Here's the skinny on how to handle dukes ... marquesses ... viscounts ... barons ... and baronets.) 

2. Getting the succession wrong. Inheritance of money is one thing, titles are another. Illegitimate sons could not inherit titles, period. Oldest sons could not be bypassed in favor of younger ones. Daughters could not pass along titles at all (there are a very few exceptions, by royal decree).

3. Getting the geography wrong. London to Gretna Green is 320 miles. Even if you figure an average speed of 10 miles per hour for a team of horses (and that would be tough to maintain over time, what with having to stop to change teams every few miles), it was impossible to do the trip in a day, much less overnight, during the Georgian or Regency eras. Which was the entire point, of course, since by the time a couple had been together and alone for such a long journey, the girl's reputation was ruined and irreparable. 

4. 21^st century characters who turn up in historical time periods. I don't mean modern-day characters who time travel. I mean people who were supposedly born and reared in the 1300s, or the 1500s, or the 1800s, but who think and act and talk and behave as though they just stepped out of Starbucks holding a latte and an iPhone, complete with modern sensibilities and politically-correct attitudes.

5. Magically-survivable injuries. Before modern antibiotics, being shot in the abdomen was pretty much a death sentence. There are real-life stories of survivors, yes, but they’re remembered because they were rare. Concussions were just as serious then as they are now, and being hit over the head hard enough to cause unconsciousness for a period of time is likely to lead to bleeding in the brain and death, not a nice long sleep and then waking up feeling just fine and remembering everything. (Author Eileen Dreyer, who was a trauma nurse before writing thrillers, does some great seminar sessions on medicine in historical eras and how authors get it wrong.)

6. Trusting other authors to get it right. I swear I’ve read a historical novel where the hero complained about the heroine feeding him pablum – but when I checked, I discovered that particular baby formula was invented in the 1930s instead. Oops.

What about you? What are your pet peeves, the things that make you toss a book aside? Please share!

The Next Big Thing

The Next Big Thing Blog Hop is a chance for the author to respond to ten questions about her latest book – and then pass along this “chain letter” to another set of authors who will post on their blogs the following Wednesday.

First, I’d like to thank debut author (and my former student at Gotham Writers’ Workshop) J.L. Hammer for tagging me to participate. Click the links below to find out more about J.L.’s romantic suspense, Outmaneuvered, featuring FBI agent Cruz Romero and suspect Amanda Price, and her Next Big Thing, the re-release of her romantic suspense novel, Blue Horizon. You’ll find her website at www.jl-hammer.com and her blog at http://jl-hammer.blogspot.com   

Here is my Next Big Thing! Please feel free to comment and ask questions.

1: What is the title of your book? The BirthdayScandal

2: Where did the idea come from for the book? I love writing triple stories – three heroes, three heroines, three romances woven into one book.  So writing about two sisters and a brother was a natural setup for me – they’re all dealing with their overbearing father while they’re coming up short in the love department.

3: What genre does your book come under? Spicy Regency-period historical

4: Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition? I’m terrible at the movie game, so I’d love to hear what readers have to say about casting decisions. But I’d love to see Maggie Smith play the meddling old gossip Lady Stone, who appears in all of my Regency-period historicals.

5: What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book? The three Arden siblings – Lucien, Isabel, and Emily – go to their great-uncle’s 70^th birthday gathering, where he’s promised to make their lives easier. But instead of receiving the financial help they’re hoping for, each one of the three falls in love.

6: Is your book self-published, published by an independent publisher, or represented by an agency? My agent is Christine Witthohn of Book Cents Literary Agency.  This is my 85^th romance novel but the first one to be published by Montlake Romance. Previously I was published by Harlequin and Sourcebooks, and I also write non-fiction.

7: How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript? It takes me about four to six months to write each of my historicals – with at least that much recuperation time between books.

8: What other books would you compare this story to within your genre? Since I write complex stories involving three heroes, three heroines, and three romances ongoing within the story, the structure is actually more like women’s fiction than like the usual romance.

9: Who or what inspired you to write this book? (a) the mortgage. (b) chocolate. (c) more chocolate.

10: What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest? After writing 80 sweet traditional contemporary romances, I took a wild turn and changed everything I could – short to long, sweet to spicy, current-day to historical, US settings to England… If I could have thought of anything else to change, I probably would have. Readers may be interested to  know that even this very dramatic change in story uses the same basic tools in writing. Also that I researched the Regency period for decades before I felt comfortable enough with the setting to actually write about it.

Below are the links to the next chain of authors, who will be posting next Wednesday. Be sure to bookmark their sites and add their new releases to your calendars. Happy Writing and Reading!

Elke Feuer is a debut author with Crimson Romance. In For the Love of Jazz, she brings Jazz Age Chicago back to life when a contemporary heroine finds clues to her family’s past. Find out more at http://elkefeuer.com , or follow her on Twitter.

Lynda Haviland writes paranormal romance featuring Egyptian gods and goddesses living in the contemporary world. Find out more about the Age of Awakening series, including her new release, Immortal Dominion, at http://lyndahaviland.com

D. L. Carter writes offbeat, screwball comedies -- including Ridiculous, set in the Regency period, and her newest release, First Destroy All Giant Monsters (now really, with a title like that, how can you NOT pick up the book?) You can keep up with her current work at http://funwithghoulsandgoblins.blogspot

Elaine Orr writes a cozy mystery series featuring real estate appraiser Jolie Gentil, set on the New Jersey coast. Her newest release is Any Port in a Storm. Find out more at www.elaineorr.com or www.elaineorr.blogspot.com

Laura Navarre writes Tudor-era (and earlier) historical romance, often with a paranormal touch. Her latest release is By Royal Command.  Find out more at www.LauraNavarre.com or  Facebook.

Baronets and their ladies

Bridging the gap between the peerage (dukes, marquesses, earls, viscounts, and barons, along with their families) and commoners (pretty much everybody else) are the baronets.

Like a knight, a baronet is addressed as Sir Firstname Lastname, or more familiarly, Sir Firstname. (He is not called Sir Lastname, and never Lord Lastname). His wife is referred to as Lady Lastname.

Unlike a knighthood, a baronetcy is hereditary, with the eldest son succeeding to the title upon the death of his father. At that time, if the new baronet is married, his wife becomes Lady Lastname, while his mother's form of address changes to Firstname, Lady Lastname.

A very few modern day baronetcies have been created for women, and a small handful of baronetcies can be inherited by women or through the female line. These women are referred to as Dame Firstname Lastname or Dame Firstname (but never Dame Lastname).

Barons & Baronesses

Barons are the fifth and lowest level of the British peerage, coming right below viscounts. Barons may well be the oldest of the ranks, with the titles of earls and marquesses and viscounts originating after barons were already well established. Frequently an earl or marquess or viscount is also a baron, and the lesser title is often the one used by a titled gentleman's eldest son as a courtesy. Often -- but not always -- the baron's title is directly derived from the family name, so that if Henry Smith were to be named a baron, he might be Baron Smith.

He would be addressed as Lord Smith or my lord, and his wife would be Lady Smith (but -- oddly -- not my lady.) The baron's children are known as The Honorable Firstname Lastname.

In modern times, there are a few women who have been named baronesses in their own right, for service to the crown. Former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, for instance, is Baroness Thatcher -- most often referred to as Margaret, Lady Thatcher.

(Lady Margaret Thatcher would be a different individual entirely -- the daughter of a high-ranking nobleman, rather than a peeress in her own right.)

Viscounts and Viscountesses

The rank in the peerage below earls and above barons is that of a viscount -- and though it's tempting to pronouce the S, it's actually silent.

A viscount is often be the oldest son of an earl or a marquess, holding his title as a courtesy based on his father's rank. Or he can be the holder of the title in his own right, if it's the most exalted title in the family. A viscount's wife is a viscountess.

His children don't hold titles, other than being formally addressed as The Honorable Firstname Lastname, and the oldest son of a viscount -- unlike the heir of a higher-ranking peer --is treated no differently from his younger brothers.

Today a viscount's daughters are simply called Miss Lastname, regardless of their order of birth. In the more-formal days of the Regency and Victorian eras, the oldest daughter was given a bit more status by being called Miss Lastname, while her younger sisters were known as Miss Firstname Lastname.

Marquess Madness

Second in aristocratic rank to a duke is a marquess (occasionally marquis), and often the oldest son of a duke is known as the Marquess of Something because that's one of his father's lesser titles. But a marquess can also hold the title in his own right; in history when earls have provided great service to the sovereign they're often rewarded with a higher title -- sometimes they're made a marquess, and sometimes they're jumped all the way up to being a duke.

The wife of a Marquess is a Marchioness. Their eldest son uses one of his father's lesser titles as a courtesy, so the son of a marquess is sometimes an earl -- but one without personal power.

A Marquess is addressed as My Lord, or Your Lordship, and if he's the Marquess of Sheridan he's referred to as Lord Sheridan.

The younger sons of a marquess are -- like the sons of dukes -- known as Lord Firstname Lastname, and all the daughters of a marquess are Lady Firstname Lastname. They can be referred to in person as Lord Firstname or Lady Firstname.

Sir What's His Name

Nothing says "lack of research" faster than getting the titles wrong in a historical set in England. When a hero is referred to as Lord John Smythe one minute and as Lord Smythe the next, or he's Sir John Smythe sometimes and Sir Smythe at other times, or the heroine is Lady Jane Reynolds at one time and Lady Reynolds at another -- well, the only thing certain is that the writer didn't check her facts, and that always makes me wonder what else she got wrong, too.

If you're trying to figure out the aristocracy, reading the Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries by Dorothy L. Sayers makes a good start, and it's a fun pastime as well. I'll use her fictional family, the Denvers, as an example in talking about the families and titles held by dukes. (We'll take up earls, marquesses, viscounts, and barons some other day.)

Dukes are the highest and most exclusive aristocratic rank, and are outclassed only by royalty. Sons and brothers of the monarch were -- and are -- often named as royal dukes.

Sayers' duke is the Duke of Denver; his wife is the Duchess of Denver. Though the family name is Wimsey, the duke and duchess seldom, if ever, use it.

The oldest son of a duke -- his heir presumptive -- uses one of his father's secondary titles. The Duke of Denver's son is Viscount St. George. But that title gives him no power; it's a courtesy only, setting the heir apart from the younger children.

The duke's younger sons are known as Lord Firstname Lastname. Again, this is a courtesy title and there's no power -- no seat in the House of Lords, for instance -- to go with it. This is why Sayers' detective, who's a brother to the Duke of Denver, is Lord Peter Wimsey. As the son of the previous duke, he uses the family name as a part of his honorary title. But he's not Lord Wimsey; he can be referred to as Lord Peter. When he marries, his wife isn't Lady Wimsey -- she's Lady Peter Wimsey.

The daughters of a duke are Lady Firstname Lastname (Lady Mary Wimsey is the duke's younger sister). When she marries she keeps her title, even if she assumes her husband's name -- so when Lady Mary marries a detective who has no title at all, she becomes Lady Mary Parker (but never Lady Parker).

To go back to the original examples, Lord John Smythe would be the son of a titled gentleman but not a lord in his own right. He has essentially no powers; it's an honorary title only -- while Lord Smythe's title is entirely his own. Sir John Smythe would be a baronet (more about them later) but Sir Smythe doesn't exist at all. And the only way Lady Jane Reynolds and Lady Reynolds can be the same person is if she's Lady Jane because her father had a high title and Lady Reynolds because she married Lord Reynolds -- and even then she's apt to prefer one title or the other.

Next time we'll take up Earls!