Recently someone criticized one of my favorite historical fiction writers for not sticking with the facts in a novel.
Obviously the critic didn’t understand the primary function of a novel is to entertain.
In a historical novel, the writer has an obligation to make the reader accept his setting and characters as appropriate to the period. That doesn’t prevent a writer from twisting facts to suit a creative purpose.
As Alistair MacLean so aptly put it, “The key to the willing suspension of disbelief on the part of readers is a good mixture of real things and things fictional.” The formula seemed to work well for him in 28 novels, many of which were made into films.
There is a vast difference between fiction and fact. Webster defines the former as “the act of feigning or inventing; a literary production of the imagination.” And fact is clearly designated as “reality; event; truth.”
Naturally the two definitions are often confused.
Shakespeare’s dramas, for instance, are fiction. Yet generations of readers and playgoers have mistakenly accepted them as factual portrayals of persons and events. Clearly the evidence shows Shakespeare mined historical accounts for plots but doctored them with his imagination and personal impressions. That’s what we call creativity.
If it’s history you seek, then read a historian.
Then again, as Thackeray reminds us, “Fiction carries a greater amount of truth in solution than the volume which purports to be all true.” I’ll wager more people who were bored by the subject in their school days have been brought to love history through fiction than by any other means.
Showing posts with label historical fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label historical fiction. Show all posts
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
How to Feed a Hungry Detective
Sylvester Tilghman likes to eat.
That becomes apparent early into my novel Fallen From Grace. Tilghman, sheriff of the small Pennsylvania town of Arahpot, is a bachelor who is never shy about accepting an invitation for a meal as he goes about investigating a couple murders that have shaken the normal tranquility of his town in the autumn of 1897.
His usual targets are his girlfriend, Lydia, and neighbors, the Mariners. But he isn’t inclined to turn down an offer of food or drink from most any of the citizens he encounters on his rounds.
Despite our difference in body structure and time period, I share Syl’s predilection for good eats. Investigating the type of food and menus most likely available in the time period and place was an enjoyable aspect of my research for the novel.
A primary resource was “The Latest And Best Cook Book,” published in 1888 by Hubbard Brothers of Philadelphia. The volume containing more than 800 “valuable” recipes had no single author but was compiled by a “skilled corps of practical experts,” according to the foreword.
The sub-title sums up the content of the volume: “A comprehensive treatment of the subject of cookery; ancient and modern cooking utensils, etc.; with abundant instructions in every branch of the art; soups, fish, poultry, meats, vegetables, salads, bread, cakes, jellies, fruits, pickles, sauces, beverages, candies, sick-room diet, canning, carving, serving meals, marketing, etc., etc.”
Hey, the Food Channel had nothing on Hubbard Brothers.
I guarantee you, it takes a good novel to match the entertainment value of a book like this one. For example:
“Dishes should suit the days of the week also. What can be furnished by one fire or wash-day or ironing-day is not the same as can be furnished conveniently on other days. The man who proposed dumplings for wash-day dessert because they could be boiled in the same kettle with the clothes was on the true line of progress, though his application was not a happy one. The idea is that harmony shall exist.”
The amount of food these people consumed at a single setting is enough to give the average diet-conscious modern person apoplexy. Consider this breakfast suggestion for summer—coarse hominy boiled; strawberries and cream; bread (fresh-baked, of course), butter, coffee and other beverages; broiled chicken, stewed potatoes, dried beef dressed with cream, radishes and muffins.
Or you might substitute oatmeal and milk, fresh currants and sugar, buttered toast, bread, coffee, broiled blue or white fish, stewed potatoes, minced mutton served on toast and shirred eggs.
Considering the lack of conveniences to which we’ve become accustomed, I can feel nothing but pity for the woman required to turn out these meals on a daily basis.
I am confident, though, if Sylvester turns up for another book (as a few readers are already urging) I’ll easily be able to come up with more dining suggestions for Lydia and others to tempt his appetite.
That becomes apparent early into my novel Fallen From Grace. Tilghman, sheriff of the small Pennsylvania town of Arahpot, is a bachelor who is never shy about accepting an invitation for a meal as he goes about investigating a couple murders that have shaken the normal tranquility of his town in the autumn of 1897.
His usual targets are his girlfriend, Lydia, and neighbors, the Mariners. But he isn’t inclined to turn down an offer of food or drink from most any of the citizens he encounters on his rounds.
Despite our difference in body structure and time period, I share Syl’s predilection for good eats. Investigating the type of food and menus most likely available in the time period and place was an enjoyable aspect of my research for the novel.
A primary resource was “The Latest And Best Cook Book,” published in 1888 by Hubbard Brothers of Philadelphia. The volume containing more than 800 “valuable” recipes had no single author but was compiled by a “skilled corps of practical experts,” according to the foreword.
The sub-title sums up the content of the volume: “A comprehensive treatment of the subject of cookery; ancient and modern cooking utensils, etc.; with abundant instructions in every branch of the art; soups, fish, poultry, meats, vegetables, salads, bread, cakes, jellies, fruits, pickles, sauces, beverages, candies, sick-room diet, canning, carving, serving meals, marketing, etc., etc.”
Hey, the Food Channel had nothing on Hubbard Brothers.
I guarantee you, it takes a good novel to match the entertainment value of a book like this one. For example:
“Dishes should suit the days of the week also. What can be furnished by one fire or wash-day or ironing-day is not the same as can be furnished conveniently on other days. The man who proposed dumplings for wash-day dessert because they could be boiled in the same kettle with the clothes was on the true line of progress, though his application was not a happy one. The idea is that harmony shall exist.”
The amount of food these people consumed at a single setting is enough to give the average diet-conscious modern person apoplexy. Consider this breakfast suggestion for summer—coarse hominy boiled; strawberries and cream; bread (fresh-baked, of course), butter, coffee and other beverages; broiled chicken, stewed potatoes, dried beef dressed with cream, radishes and muffins.
Or you might substitute oatmeal and milk, fresh currants and sugar, buttered toast, bread, coffee, broiled blue or white fish, stewed potatoes, minced mutton served on toast and shirred eggs.
Considering the lack of conveniences to which we’ve become accustomed, I can feel nothing but pity for the woman required to turn out these meals on a daily basis.
I am confident, though, if Sylvester turns up for another book (as a few readers are already urging) I’ll easily be able to come up with more dining suggestions for Lydia and others to tempt his appetite.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Counterfeiters and Spys in the American Revolution

War is expensive.
This put the fledgling American colonies at a distinct disadvantage during the Revolutionary War. With little hard currency (gold or silver) to back it up, the Americans issued steadily increasing amounts of paper money to finance the rebellion. This printed money depreciated quickly.
By the 1780s it took an estimated 600 Continental dollars to buy supplies worth the equivalent of one Spanish dollar, the silver coin on which the colonies had relied for decades.
This dollar squeeze became an important strategy to the British. As early as 1776, they began counterfeiting the Colonial paper with the aim of undermining confidence in the money and the credit of the enemy.
This strategy and the spies who carried out the work play an important role in my Kindle novel, “The Accidental Spy.”
Desiring no part in the war, Dan McCracken is a young rogue wandering around Pennsylvania and living by his wits. Wounded in a run in with the law, he flees to Philadelphia where he’s rescued and nursed back to health by the lovely ward of Benedict Arnold’s procurement officer.
Dan finds himself attracted to his nurse. But when her husband returns from the front, he flees and falls in with a band of British spies.
He switches sides when he discovers his conscience through love. Ultimately, his actions will make him a hero.
Combining mystery, adventure and romance, I think you’ll find Spy an entertaining read. Best of all, it’s only $2.99. If you’ve already read it, I’d appreciate a review, tags and/or a ‘like.’ If not, you’ll find it at http://www.amazon.com/The-Accidental-Spy-ebook/dp/B004E3XCNQ/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1304442988&sr=1-1
Labels:
American Revolution,
counterfeiters,
historical fiction,
spys
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