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A Romance Writer Goes to London: Day 1, continued… (Part 3 of a series)

Posted on February 4, 2014 by Margaret — No Comments ↓

Day 1 – November 3rd, 2013 – Late Morning

After we left Hyde Park, we ambled our way back east along Piccadilly, marveling (at least I was) over the huge buildings and elaborate stonework carvings and sculptures we often saw. It was still hard to grasp I was walking on Piccadilly – such a famous street name, and there I was! We strolled past the Burlington Arcade (one of the first covered shopping areas, opened in 1819), Hatchards (the oldest bookstore in London, founded in 1797), and Fortnum & Mason (the Queen’s official grocer, established in 1707), but since it was Sunday morning, none of them were open. We did, however, pass Fortnum & Mason just as it was striking 9:00 a.m., so we got to see the famous clock and the two mechanized figures of Fortnum and Mason come out to greet each other on the hour.

I paused as often as the husband would allow, snapping pictures and trying to imagine Regency bucks and debutantes walking along these same streets, entering these same buildings. I wondered also at how different it would have sounded – and smelled – to have had horse-drawn carriages rumbling through the streets; it was loud enough with modern cars and busses.

It wasn’t long until we ended up at Piccadilly Circus, which immediately had a different, much more modern feel, helped along of course by the big-screen digital billboards. It was a raucous hubbub of activity. It was delightful, although apparently I didn’t take any photos there! Of course later on in the trip when we walked through the area and it was much more crowded than that first Sunday morning, it was a little less inviting…

We kept moving forward and ended up at Leicester Square, the infamous Leicester Square (most definitely pronounced LES-ter, not LIE-ces-ter). Fodor’s had warned us this was a popular tourist spot and we should be on the look out for pick pockets, but at least on this gorgeous Sunday morning it was quite peaceful and calm and seemed rather small. It did also have a more “international” feel and we noted with dismay a number of American fast food staples such as Burger King and McDonalds.

It was common to find intricate sculptures and carvings above modern store fronts.

My husband commented several times throughout our trip how rarely we seemed to hear native Brits speaking; what we mostly heard were a lot of foreign languages – German (which always catches my ear since I still understand much of it), French, some Asian languages, and of course other Americans. We decided this was mostly likely because we were in the Tourist Central part of London. We also noted often throughout our stay that most of the restaurant wait staff did not seem to be native to the country, either. It didn’t matter to us either way; it was just something we tuned in to. I don’t know if that’s because we ate at some rather casual places likely to pick up tourists (we’re not ones for fancy cuisine no matter where we are).

I knew we were quite close now to the Harold Pinter Theater, so even though we weren’t going to see the play Mojo until Tuesday night, I cajoled my husband into letting us stroll by and check it out. He even took a picture of me in front of Colin Morgan’s face. Woo hoo! (I’ve already blogged about my Mojo experience, if you want to skip ahead and read it.)

From Leicester Square we headed south to find Charing Cross. First we passed the well-known church St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, whose bells were pealing merrily, calling all into Sunday worship. I wanted to zip over and peek inside, but decided I really didn’t want to disrupt those there for services, so we continued on…and stumbled into Trafalgar Square. And oh my, what a view! The square was immense, and striking in its grandeur, with the huge statue of Nelson mounted high up on his column, the impressive facade of the National Gallery behind it, and looking out toward the Thames and Parliament in front. I really loved this area – it felt vibrant and alive. I snapped a pic of the famous statue of George IV – the ruler who gave the Regency era its name, in that he served as Regent from 1811-1820 while his father was incapacitated. Prince George (“Prinny”) finally became King in 1820.

After admiring the large lion statues at the base of Nelson’s column (which reminded me fleetingly of the lions outside of the Art Institute of Chicago, which I visited as a child), we were examining the display map when a guard approached us. He seemed quintessentially stereotypically British – polite, helpful, and sans most of his teeth. I probably shouldn’t say that, but I found his thick accent and friendly manner quite charming, and he gave us lots of advice on how best to see London – including warning us NOT to pay for the double-decker bus tours, that they were rip-offs and we could see the same sites on regular busses (we’d already decided against the bus tour, but it was amusing how much he emphasized that. Sorry, British touring bus companies.).

By this point it was 10:00 a.m., and we could head to the London Pass office to pick up our London Passes (which allowed us free or discounted entry into a number of tourist attractions, and in which we’d also included Tube passes. I don’t know if this was the most cost-effective way to see London, especially since with our limited time and Regency-focused itinerary we weren’t able to get to lots of the sites, but hey, it was easy and took the anxiety out of some of the planning).

Passes in hand, we headed down for our first Tube ride, across the city over to the Tower of London. My basic observation of the Tube was it felt like the subways in Germany and DC and therefore familiar, and that anybody who actually was talking while in a Tube car (carriage?) was generally not speaking English. I’d heard that native Londoners don’t actually talk or acknowledge others on the Tube. This amused my husband and I as we tried to guess who were tourists and who were not.

And thus we arrived at the Tower tube station and walked out into the sunlight to see the famous and infamous Tower of London staring back at us. But that is a story for another blog…

A Romance Writer Goes to London: Day 1- Morning (Part 2 of a series)

Posted on February 3, 2014 by Margaret — No Comments ↓

Day 1 – November 3rd, 2013

Whew. We made it. We actually made it to LONDON!

Getting to fly in the economy plus section of the airplane was a nice bonus (somehow it was cheaper than economy!), but flights are always tough on us because we can’t sleep on airplanes. Heck, we can hardly sleep even when we’re nestled in our own beds at home. Still, we were delighted to actually arrive early at Heathrow and make it through customs and all that remarkably quickly. By about 6 a.m. we were already ensconced in a cab and making our way from the airport to Mayfair.

So what were our first impressions during that cab ride? Well, both of us commented on the distance between us and the driver, and the fact that there was a complete plexiglas wall separating us. No getting to know your cabbie here, I guess – which was just as well, considering how tired we were. It did feel slightly odd to be driving on the left side of the road, but given we were on a divided highway and all the lanes directly around us were flowing in the same direction, we quickly stopped noticing it. By and large we were surprised at how much everything looked…the same. Until we got closer to London and started to see bigger buildings – especially the large grand stone ones that suddenly had me feeling I’d stepped back into another era.

Although I had no clue at the time where we were, I did recognize Harrod’s as we drove past. Suddenly we were driving past Hyde Park and just as quickly we were there – the cab dropped us off in front of the Holiday Inn in Mayfair. Now I’ll grant you the Holiday Inn neither sounds nor looks Regency, of course. Many Americans teased us for staying in an American chain (at least I’ve assumed it’s American). And the outside of the hotel was, well, rather drab – although the inside was quite nicely furnished. But who cares? We were smack dab in the middle of Mayfair. The Green Park tube stop was literally about one minute away. London was all around us!

As it was far too early to check in – it was 7:00 a.m. on Sunday morning – we just dropped our luggage and, in spite of being tired, headed right out to explore. The minute we hit the streets I was completely energized again. I was in London, baby, and I didn’t want to waste a minute! Since it was also too early to go pick up the London Passes and tube tickets we’d ordered ahead of time, I grabbed my London map and we set out on foot. Luckily for us, the weather was absolutely beautiful – clear blue skies and just the hint of fall coolness in the air.

Green Park. I thought these three trees looked like a good trysting spot... — Green Park. I thought these three trees looked like a good trysting spot…

In spite of being awed by the large buildings all around me, the first place we actually headed to was… Green Park. And it was exactly that, lush and green, even in November. It was delightfully simple and serene. No big structures. Not many people around. I was rather amazed, actually, to find such a hushed spot in the middle of a huge city, especially when I knew it was so close to Buckingham Palace and other major notable spots. Hubby and I strolled leisurely, and I enjoyed snapping pictures. Then we found ourselves in front of the Palace.

Buckingham Palace. Buckingham Palace? Less than an hour or two in England and we were already standing in front of one of the most famous buildings in the world? One advantage to being out and about so early on a Sunday morning was that very few other people were out and about so early on a Sunday morning. We could take in the magnitude and majesty of the building at our own pace. Which we did, although our view kept getting interrupted by old cars – really old cars – racing by in front of the palace. The variety of cars was amazing, and it was oddly amusing to watch them race pell-mell around Buckingham Palace at the end of Pall Mall (see what I did there?). Turns out we’d arrived on the day of the annual London to Brighton Veteran Car Run!

After a bit we decided to head up to the famous Hyde Park that appears in almost every Regency romance novel. I desperately wanted to see Rotten Row and the Serpentine – names familiar from books but of things I’d never seen. I still could hardly believe I was about to see them now – that I was in LONDON, and that all of these places were real, right in front of me!

We passed near the Wellington Arch, but couldn’t go under it, as that was the route the antique cars were taking. And then we were at Hyde Park corner. I could see Apsley House, home to Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington who triumphed over Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo. I could see the park. I could see a large, gorgeous, white building that used to be St. George’s Hospital – a name I’m also sure I’d read about before.

I just wanted to stand and soak it all up. It was extraordinary – the sights, the sounds, the smells.

All the people. The old, majestic buildings lining the streets, occasionally interspersed with something more modern looking. I just can’t properly convey the feelings that were running through me at that moment. I’m pretty sure my husband’s main feeling was “tired”, but he gamely set out with me through the entrance into Hyde Park.

And then we were there. Walking along paths people have walked along for hundreds of years. Paths where numerous romantic trysts certainly occurred (perhaps just in fiction, but hey, what happens in Hyde Park stays in Hyde Park). I could see Rotten Row – THE Rotten Row (corrupted from Route de Roi, the route of the King). I stood for a moment, trying to imagine carriages and curricles making their way up and down the path as the ton did their version of “scooping the loop” back at the beginning of the 19th century. It was the place to see and be seen. In the 21st century, what Rotten Row and the sidewalk path next to it mostly had was… runners. Lots and lots of people running along the pathways for exercise. Which made sense – if you’re going to work out, why not pick a gorgeous and relatively quiet park with well-laid out paths to do so? Still, I couldn’t help giggling a little, wondering what promenading members of the peerage would have made of today’s fitness buffs.

Hyde Park is big. Bigger than I had expected (odd, that, since everything else was closer than I had expected. I guess that’s the challenge of trying to experience something through a 2D map). While I had this desire to explore each and every inch of it, truth be told I knew it was only early morning on what was bound to be a long day with LOTS of walking, and I wanted to save my feet a bit for exploring the city. So we strolled as far as the edge of the Serpentine, and then meandered back to Piccadilly. I thought we might get back to Hyde Park later in the week, but we didn’t. In hindsight I do wish I’d explored the park a bit more – but in reality, I wish I’d explored EVERYTHING a bit more, and we only had so much time…

(to be continued…)

Links I Love: Week of February 2nd

Posted on February 2, 2014 by Margaret — No Comments ↓

Dates of some of the neo-pagan festivals, from to the Groundhog Day article. — Dates of some of the neo-pagan festivals, from the Groundhog Day article.

1. Everything You Need to Know About Ground-Hog Day – We love to say a ground-hog will predict whether or not we have 6 more weeks of winter on this day by whether or not he sees his shadow, but did you know this day is actually a seasonal festival? Read all about it!

2. Not Reading Indie Books Yet? You’re Missing Out – Rachel Thompson talks about the latest trends in indie publishing, and how if you’re not embracing these authors you’re missing out on some seriously fabulous reads.

3. 16 Books to Read Before They Hit Theaters This Year – I’m doing well on my resolution to read more this year, but I’m embarrassed to admit I haven’t read any of these titles. How many have you read? Which should I start with first?

4. Inside the Globe’s New Candlelit Theater – I am blessed to live within easy distance of the American Shakespeare Center and its fabulous Blackfriars Playhouse, but I admit I’d give anything to jaunt back over to London and check this new theater out. Especially if Colin Morgan decides to do another Shakespeare play.

5. Gonna Rockabilly like it’s 1951 – I learned a bit about rockabilly in the mid 90s, when I was in the throes of my 50s Elvis obsession. Did you know there are people who are still living / dressing / furnishing their homes as if it were that era? So retro. So cool!

6. What Crazy National Day Falls on YOUR Birthday? We already know it’s Groundhog Day, but what other crazy days exist (at least in the US calendar)? With which one do you share your birthday? I apparently was born on Old Stuff Day. I’m choosing to decide that applies to the stuff I research, not my age.

7. Historical Romance for Dummies – Not that you’re a dummy. Or me, either. But for those not familiar with the genre, sometimes it can be confusing to determine what exactly qualifies as a historical romance. The Dashing Duchesses help us out with this primer.

8. 40 Must-See Photos from the Past – The past. Can we ever really comprehend what came before us? (For that matter, do we ever really comprehend the times in which we currently live?) This is one of the reasons history fascinates me so much – I’m amazed at how much we CAN know about people and places long past, but also fully aware of how much we will never know. These photos, at least, help to illuminate by-gone eras a little bit more.

Flash! Friday Fiction: The Picture of Guilt

Posted on January 31, 2014 by Margaret — No Comments ↓

Car wreck, ca 1920. Public domain photo.

The Picture of Guilt (160 words)

I never shoulda done it.

How was I to know the po-lice would send a guy with a camera? Or that the captain would later look at that photo and wonder about Samuel’s sly grin?

It was our brother sittin’ dead in that car. That’s why I’d run to the hotel with a telephone.

“No way that colored boy’d be smilin’ unless he had something to do with it,” the officer who’d arrested him had insisted.

I didn’t know what to think. I’d only done what mama’d taught me – get help when help is needed. My brother had needed help. I’d had to make the call.

Now Samuel’s in prison and mama says she ain’t never gonna forgive me.

I lost two brothers that day.

I see it now, looking at that picture from years ago. I see me peeking out from behind, worry all over my face.

Deep down I’d known.

Mama always said nothing happens by accident.

——————————————————————————————-

For this week’s story, I had to use 150 words, +/- 10 (thank goodness for that, since I always seem to need those extra 10), and had to incorporate a phone call somehow.

What story would you tell, looking at this picture? Come join us at Flash Friday Fiction and share your version. I’d love to hear your opinion of mine!

New Years Resolutions Part D’oh: February is the New January. Right?

Posted on January 30, 2014 by Margaret — No Comments ↓

So back at the end of December, I blogged about my writerly New Year’s Resolutions. I basically promised to do this:

1. Write an hour every day.
2. Blog 3 times a week.
3. Read an hour every day.
4. Publish a book in 2014.

I also joined the Shenandoah Valley Writer’s Group 31-Day Challenge, because, well, those people rock and I wanted to rock with them. There I pledged, in addition to my goals above, to do this:

1. Finish the first draft of Book 2 (A Matter of Time).
2. Make a list of 5 agents to whom I’d like to submit.
3. Draft a query letter for A Man of Character.

Yeah, well, I think you know where this is going. I failed. Big time. Days passed in which I wrote nothing beyond a FB status update or an occasional tweet. I did apparently blog 13 times in January, but considering 2 of those were cartoons and most of the rest were Flash Friday Fiction entries, I don’t think that counts. I haven’t touched my 2nd book, much less drafted any sort of query letter for the 1st one. I made it through the As and Bs of the RWA list of agents before I freaked out. And while I HAVE managed to read significantly more than I did in the fall, it’s not been any hour a day.

There a lots of reasons. A few legitimate, most not. I basically fell into a funk, into the familiar cycle of Not Do It – Beat Self Up – Feel Cruddy – Eat Chocolate – Not Do It Some More.

You’d think at 41, I’d know how to stop that cycle when I recognize it. I’m getting better at it, I suppose, in that at least I’m willing to see it for what it is and acknowledge it. I’ve been beating myself up for weeks. But guess what? Beating oneself up is just another form of procrastination, and a terribly useless one at that.

The temptation is to set forth a million new, more stringent goals. That’s what I always did when trying to lose weight, at least: I binged this week and exercised not at all? Well, next week I’ll only eat 1200 calories every day and I’ll walk 5 miles, etc, etc. The size of my tush will tell you that’s never been effective, either.

A wise group of people once told me if I’m not meeting goals, the trick is to make them EASIER, not harder. Break them down. Make them so accomplishable that I cannot fail. That keeps me out of the cycle, rebuilds my confidence, and allows me to make actual progress. It doesn’t matter if I’m moving at a snail’s pace – anything is better than standing still. And after all, I did subtitle that resolutionary post “Progress, Not Perfection.”

So let’s go back. I did not achieve every goal I set forth for myself in January. But perhaps stating I failed big time is not only unhelpful for my mental state and desire to move forward, but inaccurate. I did continue to write weekly Flash Fiction stories. I did read 4 books this month. I did look at agents at least a little. I did not stand still. There were days, perhaps, where I was stuck in a rut, but there were others in which I managed to crawl ever so slightly forward toward the goal.

Yes, I want out of the rut and back into super-productive mode. Yes, I need to face the demons that are dancing on my shoulders and keeping me from challenging fears and racing ahead. Yes, I need more sleep and less time playing that stupid Hay Day game.

And to get there, I need to make some smaller goals, not bigger ones. I need to be nice to myself. And I need to remind myself daily that ultimately my focus really is on progress, not perfection.

February is my new January. But I’m taming the goals a bit. Let’s focus on 3:

1. Write. Write. Write. Let’s write 2 hours a week. That’s not much. But it’s more than I’ve done in January, and if 2 hours leads to 3 or 6 or 15, awesome. If not, 2 is better than zilch.

2. Of that writing, let’s at least make some of it on the 2nd book. Let’s aim for 30 minutes a week.

3. Keep looking at agents. Get a list of 5. This is doable within a month. And simple.

And if I come back in March and report I didn’t make those goals, well, I’m going to get up and try again. And you are welcome to kick me in the derriere, because ultimately, of course, if I want this, I. Have. To. Do. The. Work. Fears and procrastination tendencies and lack of sleep and real-life obligations will ALWAYS be there. I’ve got to do it anyway.

I can do this, right? Write.

Tell me, what do YOU do to get yourself out of a self-defeating funk?

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