Word of the Week - Schedule

Schedule. It's something we use every day. A time table we keep. An action we perform daily for things like, oh, blog posts. ;-) As both a verb and a noun, it's a word in such common use that I was shocked to discover it didn't take on that oh-so-known meaning until railroading days! That's right, the verb came into being in 1862, and the noun in 1863, both in conjunction with railroads scheduling their trains.

What was it before then, then? Well, originally it meant "a slip of paper with writing upon it." In that sense it's been around since the 14th century, taken from a Greek word. These slips of paper were often attached to a document as an appendix--think of those schedules you have to attach to your tax form (ugh, that time of year again!) and it clicks into place.

It's a fairly easy jump then to these slips of paper with writing on them that the railroads would use, but I gotta say--I'm still surprised at how long it took and how completely the word has taken on this "new" meaning, and whenever I run into a place in a historical novel where I want to use "schedule," I'm at a complete loss. One time in particular I remember floundering a good while before I decided the character should just keep a calendar rather than a schedule, LOL, and that she would just have to pencil an event onto it rather than schedule it. ;-)

I hope everyone had a lovely, green St. Patrick's Day and is set for a great week! Here in Maryland we're really enjoying the early arrival of spring. =)

Thoughtful About . . . Thunder in the Brain

As you can undoubtedly tell if you've read my last couple Remember When posts, I'm currently in one of my favorite places to be--brainstorming mode. I've finished one book, have all but wrapped up my edits on the one due in a few weeks. And ready to get down to business on the next ones in my schedule. You know, the ones that I either sold on a paragraph as a second book in a series or are trying to sell based on a chapter or two. The ones I don't quite know yet.

I love brainstorming. And while I try not to make this blog focus on things that will only appeal to writers, bear with me. Let's see where I can go with this. ;-)

My agent has deemed me "an idea gal," which is a really good description. And why I have dozens of unfinished manuscripts that I start just to get an idea down on paper (or screen, as the case may be) but don't have the leisure to finish at a given point. Ideas for books have always hit me at odd moments. They churn around my brain all on their own until they're full-blown and ready to be written. And oh, how I love that. That day or two of discovery as two disparate ideas click together to make a story.

But this is the first time in my life when I'm brainstorming with expectations, and I gotta say, it's a whole new feeling. In the past, it's always been me being intrigued by something, me thinking, "Hey, that would make a great book!" I've never before had to wonder if someone in particular would like it. As in, enough to have their company shell out a couple grand for it. But now this brainstorming isn't for me. It's for my editors, my publishers. Those people who said, "Hey, could you get me a proposal on this?"

This? That thing there? Hmm. Never thought about that before. Let me see what I can come up with.

The past two weeks as I've done this, I've  had to engage my brain in a whole new way. Gather specific information to me and try to find the story in it. Try to make it mine. With each of the stories I've been brainstorming (and there are three of them!), I've prayed, Lord, help me find a way to make this exciting for myself.

And He has. Oh, He has. With the first story I was working on, in sending a long, rambling email about it to my best friend and critique partner, I stumbled upon the perfect hook for myself--bringing in some characters I absolutely adore from a book I never wrote more than a chapter or two on and plopping them into my new circumstances.

I am now totally in love with this idea. Because I love, love, love those characters that have now become Elise Ashton and Nicolas Montagu. Love them! And I'm so excited for the chance to write this new story of theirs.

Then just the other day I was brainstorming my second Culper Ring book and prayed, Lord, give me a handle on who these characters are, one that will make me love them as much as Elise and Nicolas. Within minutes--minutes!--it hit me. That Gwyneth uses her art to share secrets--oh, that was just what I needed!

There are so many parts of life that don't have such easy answers. So many parts that I pray for answers about and then listen to silence. So many times I ask, Lord, please tell me what to do here but have to wait sooooooo long to get a response. Honestly, I'm there in another part of my life right now. My husband and I (I as an adviser and party of interest, though it's not really my decision) have some tough choices in our immediate future, and frankly, I have no idea what we're supposed to do. I'm praying, but the answers don't come quite so easily or surely as when I just need to craft new characters.

Part of me wonders why it works that way. Part of me thinks that there are probably those in the world who would sneer at me for focusing on a fictional world when my real one is in need of some serious attention. But the answer's obvious, and one my husband thankfully understands as well as I do--this is who I am, what I'm called to do. This is my part right now. When I think of all the years I worked and worked to get published, when I think about where I was even this time last year, wondering how I was going to get that next sale, and look at God's timing--yeah, it's pretty clear He led me to this place in my career right now because now is when we need it.

Yeah, okay, this wasn't where I expected this post to go, LOL. But I guess that's what Roseanna is thoughtful about today. I would really appreciate your prayers as my hubby and I make some big decisions in the next week.

And I'd also like to hear from you on where you feel most comfortable. When there are parts of your life just a quakin' and a shakin', when the storm's raging on one front, where do you go to find that peace? What's the thing you do that makes you feel capable and able to pull your weight? For me, it's writing, and especially coming up with new ideas. What is it for you?

Remember When . . . The Heroine Was Known?

Some of you may recall when, last April, I was noodling a new story idea and posted a few paintings for you to choose between for my Regency heroine. We decided on this oh-so-breathtaking work by Frank Dicksee, his interpretation of Miranda from The Tempest.

Well, I'm stealing her. ;-) She fits even better my image of Gwyneth Fairchild, you see, and since I know I do in fact have to write Gwyneth's story, but Arabelle's is on the "maybe someday" list . . .

So allow me to introduce Gwyneth. Born and raised in England, she has spent most of her days in fashionable Hanover Square, London. Her grandfather is a duke, her father said duke's third son, who has risen to the rank of general in the military. Bloodlines--impeccable. Dowry--sizable. Looks--beyond compare.

And so she is the perfect Regency miss. All things lovely and demure and witty, with a remarkable hand at drawing and painting to boot. At the opening of her story (the second book in my Culper Ring Series from Harvest House, which will come out in June of 2013), Gwyneth is in the midst of her first season, which was put off for a year because her mother fell gravely ill and passed away the season prior. Gwyn and her father clung to each other to get through the terrible loss of sweet Mama, and she finds some solace now in throwing herself into the social whirl that her matron had spent a lifetime preparing her for.

Which has obviously been worthwhile, for Sir Arthur Hart, Knight of the Order of St. Patrick and presumed heir to a marquessate, is surely going to propose soon.

There is only one problem. Her father, who is without doubt one of the best men in all England, who she adores and trusts implicitly, has told her she must leave. Leave London. Leave England. And go, of all places, to a country with whom they're at war. And not even France, where at least they're civilized, but to America. Maryland. To a family she met only once, when she was too young to remember.

Much as she wants to argue, especially when Sir Arthur does indeed intercept her before she can climb in her carriage and offer his hand in marriage, she can't. Because minutes later she witnesses a crime that proves her life really is in danger--and that there's nothing left for her here.

And so our little sparrow flies away, with only her pencils and paints with which to express the turmoil inside her, turmoil hidden within the paintings people would expect. And with a letter in hand meant to assure her safe delivery to Baltimore, even if she is set upon by American pirates.

Enter, of course, one dashing American privateer . . . ;-)

Word of the Week - Thank

"Thank" seems like a pretty basic word, right? It's obviously been around for a while. Say, as long as manners. ;-) Still, there's been some interesting evolution of the word!

Interestingly, "thank" and "think" share a root--"thought, gratitude" is the meaning of the word from which it's taken, which in turn is from a word that means "think, feel." Apparently this variation came about from "thoughts" moving into "good thoughts," which leads to gratitude.

Isn't that just awesome?

Of course, it had developed an ironic sense--"You can thank her for that catastrophe"--by the 1550s, and by 1703 we were thanking people for nothing.

The phrase "thank you" (short for "I thank you") is from the 1400s, and had turned into a noun (send him a thank you) by 1792.

I hope everyone has a great week!

Thoughtful About . . . Calming the Storm

Allow me to draw your attention to Mark 4:37-41:

³⁷ And a great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, 
so that it was already filling.  ³⁸ But He was in the stern, 
asleep on a pillow. And they awoke Him and said to Him, 

“Teacher, do You not care that we are perishing?”

³⁹ Then He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, 
“Peace, be still!” And the wind ceased and there was a great calm. 

  ⁴⁰ But He said to them, “Why are you so fearful? How is it that you 
have no faith?”^{[d]  41} And they feared exceedingly, and said 
to one another, “Who can this be, that even the wind 
and the sea obey Him!”

Now, I've read those words approximately a hundred times, and I'm guessing everyone else has too. And I've always gotten out of it what the disciples did--wow, did you see that? The wind and waves obey Him! This Man rules the weather!!

Which is awesome. Truly, amazingly awesome.

I've also been struck before by His rebuke of the disciples--they'd just witnessed an amazing miracle, when He fed the 5,000. But they still didn't quite get it . . . and Jesus calls them on that, on their lack of faith.

But as I was reading this section on Monday, something new hit me. 

He didn't have to do any of that. Ever pause to consider that? It wasn't His time to die. He still had a whole lot to do. There was no possible way that the storm was going to hurt that little boat with its most precious cargo, and Jesus surely knew it. He had no fear, and it wasn't just because He knew He could calm the storm--it was because He knew it wasn't a threat.

And yet.

When his friends, his disciples wake him in a panic, what's his first reaction? He calms the storm. He doesn't first try to explain it to them. He doesn't roll his eyes and go back to sleep. He calms the storm. He does that for them--not to prove He can, but because He loved them. Because He didn't want them to fear.

And, maybe, because He knows they wouldn't have heard him until that fear was gone. 

I don't know why I'm constantly amazed when I realize how far out of His way our Lord goes for us, but it hit me anew here. Jesus could have done any number of things in this situation, and no matter what He had chosen, we know the outcome would have been a safe arrival on the other side. He could have done any number of things that resulted in the disciples seeing His glory.

But He chose the one that calmed his friends. That soothed their fears. And then, then he reminded them to have faith.

Thank you, Lord, for knowing me so well. For knowing that when the storm's upon me, I can't remember the sunshine was ever there. For knowing that clutching for you is, sometimes, all I can do. Thank you, Lord, for making it all I need to do.

Because You calm the storm. And then You remind me that it was in Your hand all along.

Remember When . . . The Nation Fasted and Prayed?

With my latest book finished and simmering and edits underway on Ring of Secrets for my looming deadline, I've been dividing my time between reading/revising and developing a new idea. And oh, how much fun that is!

This new one will be set around the early-early days of the Revolution, in 1776. But as I launched into my oh-so-fun research, I discovered something in Jefferson's account of the events leading up to the signing of the Declaration.

June 1, 1774. The Boston port was scheduled to be shut down by the British in retaliation for a certain episode of tea-dumping that you may have heard of. Politics between the colonies and England were fast deteriorating--so quickly that Lord North, the Prime Minister at the time, was happy to get sneaky. He came up with a "conciliatory plan" designed to divide us against ourselves. Said, basically, "Yo, any colony that sides with us rather than you neighbors won't be taxed any more. Eh? Eh??"

But not everyone was paying attention to the events in New England. Not everyone could be bothered. Not everyone was convinced that independence was feasible, desirable, or right for the time. Not everyone was even considering it as a question to be discussed. Which, as you might guess, irritated those leading the movement.

So Jefferson and company decided to get their attention. How? By calling for a nation-wide day of fasting and prayer on June 1, 1774. "No example of such a solemnity had existed since the days of our distresses in the war of '55, since which a new generation had grown up," Jefferson writes. He figures that this will "call up & alarm their attention."

Now, knowing that Jefferson was a deist rather than a man of faith, a "moral liberal" if you will, I know well this was a manipulative move. He probably didn't really fast and pray, he just knew that demanding everyone else do it would make them go, "What? Why? What's going on? Is something wrong?"

And it worked. That's what I really love about these days of prayer called for by our leaders. They are powerful, powerful things. I've heard amazing stories about the results of the one Churchill called for in England during WWII. And of others in American history. Because as we well know, when that many people take to their knees and pound the gates of heaven with their prayers, we're in effect taking authority over the powers in our world. 

I had no idea until I read Jefferson's account that such a day happened back in 1774, a year before the first shots at Lexington and Concord, two years before the signing of the Declaration. But that really does mark the time when people all through the colonies began to realize that something loomed on the horizon. 

Naturally, I had to toss in a prologue to  my new book . . . and naturally, it's on June 1, 1774. ;-) This historic day of fasting and prayer only gets a passing mention, but I thought it a perfect day to begin my story. A day when no one would wonder why my heroine went off into the woods by herself to pray. When no one would think it odd that she wanted to be alone. When no one would suspect her many secrets . . . ;-)

Word of the Week - Figure

What a striking figure. No, not that lady over there, the one I figured out for the math problem. Go figure, right? I know, I know--it's just a figure of speech. ;-)

Figure obviously has a lot of meanings, both as a noun and as a verb. It entered the English language waaaaay back in the 13th century with its two basic meanings: (1) the form of a person or (2) numeral. It adopted rhetorical uses only a century later, yet it took until 1824 for figure of speech to come about. 

As a verb, its primary meaning of "to represent" (Beatrice figures in The Divine Comedy as an inspirational guide through Paradise . . .) is from the 14th century; three hundred years later it evolved into "to picture" or "to make an appearance." Interestingly, combining it with the "numeral" definition from the noun side of things didn't happen until the middle of the 19th century--so not until then did you "figure out" a math problem.

Hope everyone has a great Monday!