Happy new year

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Up and Rolling in Two 22

I’m trying to keep all my balls in the air while maintaining a work-life balance

Happy New Year! It has been a couple of peculiar years in a row. A global pandemic is not necessarily the best time to sell our home of 20 years, move to another town, buy a new house, and do a complete renovation inside and out. By the time I published To Tame the Wild Rake in September, I was weary to the bone. The plot elves hung on for a few weeks to see a novella finished for the next Bluestocking Belles (with Friends) anthology, and then packed up to begin an early holiday.

How did your 2021 end? And how has it started?

For me, the holiday is over. We saw the last tradesman finish his work just before Christmas. Since then, we’ve almost finished all of the tasks we’d set out to do ourselves, but the pressure is off and we can set our own pace. On the story front, the plot elves are back and so am I.

I’m starting back into my regular blogging schedule, so check back here on Monday’s for Tea with Duchess of Haverford, on Wednesdays for an excerpt from one of my works in progress, on Fridays for snippets from my research and on Sundays for my news or book news from other authors. Do check out my I love guest authors page if you’d like to appear on my blog or in my newsletter.

I have three works-in-progress on the go, and I’ve others lined up to pick from when I finish any of those. I’m signed up for several more anthologies, and also for some stories in series with other authors. And I’ve started a new series of my own (more about that later).

Paradise at Last, which suffered when the plot elves decamped, is one of those works. I hope to have it finished and ready for ARC within the next week. Here’s a sneak peek. The scene is between Eleanor and her son, just before Christmas in 1815.

She owed her son an apology. She had already acknowledged her wrong-doing to Cherry, and been forgiven. But how could she tell her son of her remorse when he avoided her, and spoke to her only with distant politeness?

She would have to ask him for a private audience, but before she nerved herself to do so, he made the request himself. She followed him to the library, and allowed him to close the door behind them.

“Haverford, I have apologised for interfering between you and Cherry, but I would like to do so again. I have known all along that I was wrong to go privately to Cherry as I did. You are adults, and I should have said what I thought to both of you and trusted you to make your own decision. I am truly sorry for the distress I caused you.”

Haverford opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Eleanor put up a hand to stop him. “I have a second apology to make, Haverford. Watching you and Cherry together in the past week shows me that I was wrong again—wrong to believe that your love for Cherry was less deep than hers for you. Wrong to think that you would fall out of love once you had achieved your prize. All I ever wanted was for both of you to be happy. You are perfect for one another, and I shudder to think how close I came to preventing that happiness.”

For a moment, Haverford said nothing, his mouth hanging slightly open as if the words he’d planned to say had dissolved on his tongue. Then he gave a slight shake of his head. “Thank you, Mama.”

“I will never interfere again,” Eleanor promised. Perhaps that was a bit rash. “At least, I will try my very best.”

Haverford’s smile was small, but it reached his eyes. “I shall not ask such a sacrifice, Mama. Both Cherry and her mother have pointed out what a marvelous gift you have for interfering, as you call it. All I ask is that you consult us first on any plans you have that involve us and that you promise not to proceed without our agreement.”

Eleanor’s eyes were wet. She blinked to clear them. “I can promise that,” she agreed.

His smile broadened. “Come on, Mama. We have a house to decorate.”

He offered her his hand to help her rise, and his elbow to escort her back to the ballroom, just in time to see a footman moving a ladder away from the arched doorway. A kissing ball hung in the middle of the arch. Cherry stood looking up at it, and she glanced their way and smiled to see them together.

Haverford put his arm around Eleanor, reached up for a mistletoe berry, and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I love you, Mama,” he told her. “Merry Christmas.”

And it was.

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Happy New Year

Every Saturday at 1pm Eastern US time, the Bluestocking Belles host a one hour discussion on the Belles Brigade Facebook Group. We take it in turns to lead, and I have January, so hosting a conversation about the new year seemed inevitable. The thing is, 2020 sucked in multiple ways for many many people. And 2021 has started in a way that has prompted all sorts of jokes. You’ve heard the one that goes, “They told me to cheer up because things could be worse. So I cheered up, and things got worse.” Or the conversation between 2020 and 2021. 2020: I’m the worst year anyone alive has known. 2021: Hold my drink.

Sure enough, in the week after I set up the event for yesterday and promoted the topic, things got worse, with a tragedy in my family, bad news on the Covid front, and the sad situation that unfolded before our eyes in Washington on Wednesday.

So I decided to take a different approach. Rather than focusing on the year as a whole (the one that’s been or the one that’s started), I asked people to think of one thing last year that gave them joy, and one thing they hope for, that they can remember at this time in January 2022.

I thought I’d share with you my answers, and I’d love to hear yours. Please put them in the comments.

A number of things have given me joy this year, but the one I’m choosing to focus on is finding and buying the townhouse that we intend to have as our home for the remainder of our lives or for as long as we can continue to live independently, whichever comes first. We’re doing a lot of renovation, but it is going to be perfect for us. On the book front, I’m grateful that my plot elves came back to work part way through the year, and the long gap in publishing that resulted from their silence ended on 15 December. I’ve two books finished and coming to a store near year in the first third of the year, two more heading towards their beta read, and several others planned.

In January next year, I want to be looking back at plans come to fruition: a finished house and garden, the completed four books in The Children of the Mountain King series 1, another Golden Redepenning, and three books in the Lion’s Zoo series all ready to publish in 2022, when I get the rights back to House of Thorns.

Your turn.

 

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A letter to the new year

Dear 2017

No point in beating about the bush. Your predecessor’s performance left a good deal to be desired. In fairness, I need to acknowledge that I didn’t follow the fundamental rule of performance management. I didn’t make my expectations clear, so 2016 had no idea what would get it booted out the door with a sigh of relief.

So, 2017, let’s start our brand new relationship with a few basic suggestions from me.

First, while I know the body is not as young as it used to be, I’d like it to keep working for a while longer. If I agree to be careful how I prune trees and lift loads, can you agree that this year won’t include strained and inflamed muscles, tendons, and ligaments. And a new allergy? Really? What was 2016 thinking?

While we’re discussing health, I’d much prefer my personal romantic hero to stay healthy and active, too. You know what I’m talking about, 2017. I saw you have a chat with 2016 when you passed one another in the doorway.

PRH and I ended 2016 with our 45th wedding anniversary (on the 27th of December). It seems hardly possible that I will love him more at the end of this year than I do now, but I have 45 years of experience to tell me that’s the deal.

2016 gave me a new grandchild, and she is an absolute darling. I’ve no complaints there. Keep in mind, 2017, that I need to close this year with all thirteen grandchildren healthy and happy. Thank you for your consideration.

The other gift from 2016 was Clarity 2016, the conference I attended for my day job. I enjoy my day job, but I was worn to a frazzle by the time my Christmas holiday started. I’m making your performance in this area easier, 2017, because I’ve dropped one day of work a fortnight, beginning my transition to retirement.

No. Retirement is not the right word, is it? Because then there’s my fiction writing. In 2016, the output was sparse: several short stories and novellas and one novel, Revealed in Mist. This year, I want to publish A Raging Madness (which is nearly finished, so that’ll happen), and also two more novels. Ambitious, I know. And that’s not including Never Kiss a Toad, which at around 1500 words per week, should be completed by the time you end.

Dear 2017, help me keep to my minimum 1000 words per day, and I’ll meet the goal easily, and finish the year with Concealed in Shadow and The Realm of Silence published. Plus more short stories and novellas. I’m planning to put a short story in every newsletter from now on, so that’s six, and I’ll undoubtedly give away some more made-to-order stories.

Okay, 2017, I think that’s it.

Good luck. I’ll do my bit. I hope you’ll do yours.

Kindest regards

 

Jude Knight

 

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Happy New Year

happy-new-yearIn just over half a day New Zealand time, we’ll be into 2015.

Our family does not tend to make a big fuss of New Year’s Day. It has always seemed an arbitrary distinction to me: one year out and one year in. A tiny bit of research shows how arbitrary it is.

For a start, New Year’s Day is a different day in different cultures. You already knew that. The Chinese celebrate New Year around a month later (the precise date depending on movements of the sun and moon). In parts of India, New Year is over three months later, and is celebrated as a Spring festival. In other parts of India, the date is set by a legend:

When Prince Rama, rightful heir to his father’s throne, was banished to the forest for 14 years by his wicked stepmother, Rama’s wife was kidnapped by the evil Demon King Ravan, ruler of a neighboring land. A battle ensued and Rama, aided by the monkey warrior Hanuma, rescued his wife, defeated Ravan and returned to his kingdom to reclaim his throne. In celebration of Rama’s victory, people feasted and lit oil lamps in their homes. Such was the first Indian New Year celebration known as Diwali, meaning “Row of Lights.”

Today, the festival falls in late October or early November and is celebrated according to regional customs. In Northern India, for example, every town and village glows with thousands of lights and homes are decorated with little oil lamps called diwa, intended to drive out evil and replace it with goodness. People try to complete any unfinished work since Diwali marks the end of the year. Businesses pay off all debts and new account books are blessed before the New Year. People buy new things for their homes, or purchase new tools or even new clothes. Cards and gifts are exchanged, New Year resolutions are made and all quarrels are forgiven and forgotten, since this is a time of year to be happy and generous. Even the animals who have been worked are washed, groomed and decorated for the festival.

The Normans also celebrated New Year as a Spring festival, in March. 25 March (or Lady’s Day) continued  to be regarded by some in England as the start of the New Year until the Calendar Act of 1751. In fact, accountancy being a conservative breed, 31 March is still the end of one year and 1 April the start of another for many commercial organisations — at least for tax and accounting purposes.

On the other hand, the Celts put their New Year a lot earlier, at the festival of Samhain, or Summer’s End (in October). And Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, is usually in September, though it can be as late as early October.

The Scots had been starting their New Year on 1 January since 1600, so when King James VI of Scotland became James I of England, many people began following the Scots timing. Which means sorting out what happened in which year can be interesting. “For example, in The Tower of London there is some graffiti scratched into a cell wall by someone imprisoned in January 1642 for his role in the Battle of Edgehill (which took place on 23 October 1642).” [Andrew Benham on Calendar Reform]

And I’ve already mentioned before on this blog that the liturgical year in the Western Christian churches begins on the 1st Sunday of Advent at the end of November or the beginning of December.

So how was New Year celebrated in my favourite period, just 50 years after an Act of Parliament placed it firmly on 1 January?

To start with, the Roman custom of giving gifts on 1 January had been revived in England in 1200 (by a king who wanted some). So our late Georgian era ladies and gentleman might have exchanged presents on this day, rather than on 6 December (St Nicholas Day), 25 December, or 6 January (the Feast of the Epiphany). Perhaps they might do all four?

Some began the celebration the night before, and stood around the door as midnight approached, ready to sweep out the old and welcome in the new. In the north, the practice of first footing meant waiting for the first guest to cross the doorstep. A tall dark-haired man with a high instep was good luck for the year. Someone with flat feet was bad luck. In different places, lighter hair colours and women might be bad luck or good.

According to the first footing tradition, the first footer entered through the front door, wished everyone well for the year, and left through the back door taking any bad luck left from the old year with them.

An article in the Huffington Post suggests that new year resolutions were an 18th Century Protestant response (possibly Methodist) to pagan New Year practices.

I don’t have new year resolutions, but I do have plans. On the fiction side, I have three novels to be published (one in April, one in September, and one in December), novellas and short stories to write, and a community of writers and readers to enjoy connecting with. My local community is facing a time of change, and I’ve agreed to be part of the leadership team. On the commercial writing side, I’m starting several projects with a client in Australia, which could lead to more Australasian work, and I’m contributing to the development of several new workshops. And, of course, family (especially my PRH) will come first in my priority list.

What are you planning for 2015?