WITH A PASSION FOR HISTORY
Beyond Research: Fact and Fiction for the Historical Romance Author
by Carrie Lofty
February 2-27; ONLINE
Sponsored by the Southern Tier Authors of Romance (STAR) RWA
$20 / $15 for STAR members
Sign-Up Begins Soon!
This course will cover key aspects of melding research and fiction, taught by a recovering historian who learned the hard way that quality research does not always make for compelling romance. We'll also discuss purposefully deviating from the historical record and why flubbing the facts may be to your advantage as a storyteller.
Also, in light of the recent proliferation of plagiarism charges, we'll look at making the research your own. Using examples from primary sources, we'll write sample paragraphs from different points of view, learning to choose the details that best reflect our characters and fulfill ultimate intention: to tell the best possible story!
For a list of the workshops or talks Carrie is available to give throughout the Midwest, see her list of topics on the PASIC Speaker Connection.
Originally printed in The Write Touch, the newsletter of Wisconsin RWA, July 2008.
"Robin Hood's estranged nephew rescues an alchemist who can clear him of murder, but she's blind, obsessed with fire, and sister to the woman he helped kidnap."
This elevator pitch for What a Scoundrel Wants took two tedious, mind-numbing days to complete, but it wound up catching my editor's attention at Nationals. So how to do it?
I assume most of us want to pitch romances, which are defined by four distinct plot arcs: heroine, hero, romantic, and external. Think about your protagonists' basic characteristics, but only those details that are unique or applicable to their development. For the romance, find the heart of what keeps them apart. The external plot is any circumstance that throws the would-be lovers together.
Thus the first task is to identify your story's arcs. The best pitches hint at all four. Next, combine these plot threads into a single paragraph--but don't go for brevity just yet. I wrote this for Scoundrel's Kiss, the 2009 sequel to What a Scoundrel Wants:
In medieval Spain, a slave raised to kill a king takes shelter among holy men. Gavriel must perform one last act of penance before being accepted to the brotherhood: He is to cure Ada, an English translator tortured by her past and consumed by an addiction to opium. But Ada will not be a captive again, not even for her own good. Her rebellion tests his three fragile vows--obedience, nonviolence, and chastity--as they uncover a plot by Gavriel's exiled father to overthrow the King of Castile.
But that's 88 words, and it takes 32 seconds to read aloud. (Eyes start glazing over after about ten seconds.) So use the following pointers to cut excess words:
1. Eliminate given names, and feature only your male and female protagonists. Using clear pronouns will help in comprehension. (I included Will Scarlet's name in the pitch for What a Scoundrel Wants because he's a legendary character, setting the story within the world of Robin Hood--the hook.)
2. Eliminate clichés and soft phrases. Keep only unique details.
3. Re-arrange phrases. "An addiction to opium" could become "an opium addiction," saving one word. Little changes add up.
4. Cut anything that doesn't enhance the most important conflict (what's keeping the hero and heroine apart). For example, I like that phrase "a slave raised to kill the King," but it's too long. The central conflict is that he wants to cure her, and she's willing to play dirty in order to see him fail. Everything else is padding.
Remember that the elevator pitch is meant to open doors, to grab and shake. You only want to intrigue the listener and get her to ask questions. It doesn't have to be 100% accurate.
Here's what I came up with for Scoundrel's Kiss: "In medieval Spain, a hunted warrior monk must cure an English translator of her opium addiction, but she plans to seduce her way to freedom, jeopardizing his vows of obedience, nonviolence, and chastity."
I've kept key words to highlight its unique aspects, and "seduce her way to freedom" just sounds sexy. I've also created built-in questions. Why is he being hunted? By whom? Why must he cure this woman? How she came to become an opium addict? But because of these questions, the door to more conversation is open!
Good luck to you!
Originally printed in The Bard's Scroll, the newsletter of the Hearts Through History RWA chapter, September 2008.
As authors of historical romance, we strive for accuracy. Most of us revel obsessively in the quirks of history, and we preach that quality research gives heft to our love stories and credibility to the genre. But more than this, we recognize that readers of historical romance are far more knowledgeable than society gives them credit for. Particulars of tradition, locale, and political intrigue help create an authentic world, one that transports readers to another place--an author's primary task. Research missteps run the risk of yanking keen-eyed readers out of the story.
But when writing an original work of fiction by blending or expanding a well-known tale--from the ancient myths to Grimm's fairy tales--the rules blur. What does the reader expect from this new version? An homage? An unexpected twist ending? A stripped down narrative based on pure fact? Breaching those expectations can be as damaging to the story's appeal as putting a vacuum cleaner in the hands of a 14th century housewife. And in the case of Robin Hood, sticking to "just the facts" leaves us with this:
A wily medieval troublemaker once lived in the north of England.
Historians have come to no other unanimous conclusions about who inspired his legends. He may have been a thief or an aristocrat. He may have led a band of outlaws, but they never called themselves the Merry Men--not in the written record, at least--and no evidence suggests that they wore tights, green or otherwise. He may have tangled with the Sheriff of Nottingham, but most Robin Hood primary sources put him in York or in the forests of Charnwood and Barnsdale.
Sherwood Forest? Afraid not.
When I began researching What a Scoundrel Wants--with Robin's nephew, Will Scarlet, as the hero--I looked forward to writing an historical romance that continues where the legend leaves off. But after months of trying to reconcile legend and history, I had to choose where the story required the basic facts of day-to-day life in the late 12th century and where the legend took precedent.
I kept iconic elements: Nottingham; the longbow; Richard the Lionheart's Crusades; the Sheriff, Marian, Little John, and Friar Tuck; and Robin Hood's bravery in the face of injustice. Ever since Robin evolved from a commoner to a nobleman who fights for commoners, his legend has inspired us. What would he be without a reputation for robbing from the rich and giving to the poor? Probably a more realistic man but a less interesting icon.
Had I faithfully re-created northern England in the year 1199, What a Scoundrel Wants would have been very different. For example, the term "Robin Hood" could have been shorthand in law ledgers to indicate unnamed criminals, not an actual person. The earliest use of "Robin Hood" was in 1228 and continued throughout the 14th century, and these tricky fellows popped up all over England. Any man identified by such a moniker--a medieval John Doe--was unlikely to have been an aristocrat. (Unless he was in disguise!) In addition, the English longbow did not come into prominent use until the mid-13th century, well after Richard the Lionheart's death in 1199. And the "High Sheriff of Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire and the Royal Forests" could have been an evil foe, to be certain, but one rather more pompously titled.
To contradict iconic features with historical fact would've required a complete re-imagining of the Robin Hood legend, one I was not prepared to undertake within the bounds of a fun and sexy romance. And anyone expecting to read a rip-roaring tale of justice, where good guys smile as they triumph over evil, would've come away dissatisfied.
Then there's Will Scarlet, the hero of What a Scoundrel Wants. I wanted to ground Will within his legend, but it turns he was the easiest part of my task. Remarkably malleable, he first appeared in the fifteenth century ballad A Gest of Robyn Hode. Over the centuries, he's been a fighter, a lover, a dandy, a thug, a moron, and a boy on the verge of manhood--whatever storytellers require. Fantastic! He's been a random outlaw, yes, but also Robin Hood's nephew or brother. Only their manly-man relationship remains the same: tempestuous, occasionally violent, and grudgingly loyal. I just took him one step further and made him a hero.
The advantage of a legend is its malleability. In the early years, Robin Hood was simply good. Now, we're fascinated with realistic characters. We ask, "Who was the man behind the legend?" But we also want to read about sword fights, rescues, and derring-do, preserving that gentle touch of the impossible. Robin Hood allows for both. Is it historical? Not exactly. Is What a Scoundrel Wants the most faithful portrayal of late 12th century England? I'd never make that claim. But these old legends make for some amazing stories.
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