This week has been a mad one. Close to the start of the Christmas period, we found out that Mum would be having a thyroidectomy on Candlemas (the final day of the Christmas season). Of course, this was not enough to spoil Christmas. As readers of this blog are no doubt aware, Christmas happens in a big way in this house. But when the day finally arrived it was nonetheless met with, if not fear, definite nervousness. I'm pleased to say that the procedure seems to have been a great success! And wouldn't it have been? Thyroid treatment has been developing for over four thousand years. You know me - somewhat obsessed with putting doctors, nurses, physicians and surgeons in my historical fiction - I made a (very brief) wander into the realms of researching the topic. I was surprised by the results. The earliest I could find a reference to treatments for thyroid issues (in this instance a goitre) came in 2697BC, when the legendary Yellow Emperor recorded the use of seaweed in treati...
Last Christmas (no, don't worry, I'm not about to burst into song!) one of my sisters got me a box file. Inside it, were a number of artefacts linking back to - or around - the year 1863, including letters, a death card, a penny and several other things. On the box was written the challenge:
This was a very different way of writing. In the past, I had collected things which linked in with my story ideas or completed books. Now, the challenge was to start with the objects and built up from there. And what a mixed box of goodies it was!
Included in the box was this letter from the esteemed polymath, Henry Thompson, to his daughter. It showed a very different side of him to the one you read about. This was an opportunity too good to waste, so Henry Thompson appeared in the novel as one of the only "real life" people.
Another was a lace collar which begat this excerpt from Ann Adler [whose character was inspired from the mirror in last fortnight's blog!]:
Collecting a second sheet of paper, she gave a girlish smile. She set it on the slope and rolled the pen backward and forward between her fingers as she tried to decide how to open this letter.
"My dearest Timothy," she muttered, trying to hold back the excitement of this secret correspondence with this unknown gentleman. In this, she was unsuccessful, and her pen glided across the page with such haste she could scarcely keep up with it. "I have been in Brussels for several weeks now. I confess, I had hoped I might finally make your acquaintance, and to such an end I am daring to share my address with you. Belgium I find to be a quaint place, so little and yet so unique as they strive to establish their own kingdom. By far my favourite distraction has been in admiration of the beautiful lace and I must own to having already purchased a collar for myself. Were I a better seamstress, I would have attached it at once to my gown, but have commissioned this to a dressmaker on Rue de Dam. You can be in no doubt, my dear Timothy, of my desire to finally make your acquaintance, and it is my sincere hope that I might assist you in your need to resolve financial and business difficulties. Though I may be a lady, I have an astute knowledge of the gentleman's world, and I have chosen to lay this before you. I remain your humble admirer and devoted servant. Ann."
She lifted the paper, tilting it towards the window where the sunlight was beginning to penetrate, and read through the epistle. She had no blotting paper and did not wish to waste her writing stationary, so shook the letter dry.
This box of bits and bobs was a perfect Christmas present and, if you're stuck with what to get for an historical fiction writer, consider putting one of these together! Here are a few of the other bits and pieces which were contained in the box file:
Wow, it's things like this that make me really wish I had siblings!! That's such a thoughtful and thought-provoking gift, I love it 😍😍
ReplyDeleteYes, they have their moments!!!
Delete😉