Today is Remembrance Day here in Canada. It is a day when we remember both the end of World War I and all soldiers who have given their lives to ensure our continued freedom. In honor of the day, I would like to start with a moment of remembrance before getting to the normal Monday post items. Below is a beautiful violin version of “The Last Post”, which will be played at many, many cenotaphs today. There will also be readings of the poem “In Flander’s Fields.” If you wish to listen to this poem, there is a reading of it by Leonard Cohen at this link.
Published to YouTube by Rachel Bostock on April 27, 2016.
I am truly grateful for the sacrifice made by so many.
~*~*~
Now, for my writing news:
This week on the blog, I will not have the normal Tuesday and Thursday stories for you as those concluded last week. I will be taking down both Persuading Miss Mary and Her Secret Beau soon, as I am working on getting them both ready for publication. I did not get a lot done on either of these this week as I spent the week being sick. Continue reading Music Monday: The Last Post – Violin
Welcome to the first Longbourn Literary Society (LLS) Society Papers Broadcastpost on my blog. (Yes, that is a mouthful, is it not? LOL)
Zoe Burton, Rose Fairbanks, and I have been doing these video chats as Facebook live videos for a year and have just recently moved from Facebook to YouTube so that the videos can be accessed more broadly.
Now, I realize I mentioned that I would share these videos on Sundays here on the blog, but I just had a “brilliant idea” which means this is either going to work or be a dismal failure. LOL
I think that I can share the link to the video early and then if you want to join us live, you can just use it to hop over to YouTube where you can comment, or you can just watch us here. We’ll see. Fingers crossed. And please accept my apologies if it does not work. I will get it sorted out afterward if necessary.
This week, we are discussing how real-life experiences have inspired scenes on the page and reading from some of those scenes as well.
[The broadcast will start at 3 PM EST or 4 PM if you’re in the Atlantic time zone like I am. 😉 ]
Wickham wanted to run after her, to make her understand how much he had changed and how much she now meant to him, but he could not. His feet were rooted to the ground, and he could not seem to draw a full breath. He stood watching her, his heart aching a bit more with each step she took.
“Papa?” A small hand grasped his.
His knees buckled and he sank to the ground.
“Papa?” Louisa grabbed his face and looked at him.
He saw the fear in her eyes and smiled at her. “I am well. I just need a rest.”
She scrunched up her face and looked at him carefully. “You are not well. Mama is not well. And I am going to get help.” Before he could stop her, she had spun on her heels and was running.
“Louisa, come back,” he called as he pulled himself to his feet and soon overtook her. He snatched her up, crushing her to him. “Where are you going?”
“To get Aunt Kitty. She can make Mama feel better, and if Mama feels better, then you will feel better.” She thumped him on the chest. “You should have told her you loved her.” She thumped him again. “You should have told her. Why did you not tell her?”
“She would not have believed me,” he said softly as he stroked her hair.
“You still should have told her.” Her little body trembled as she gulped air between sobs.
Published to YouTube by txaggie321 on May 17, 2007
Ah, now, that’s a rather melancholy song and excerpt to start our week, isn’t it? 🙂 But I had a good reason (in my opinion) for selecting both. Let me explain…
On Thursday night, I finished the first draft of Assessing Mr. Darcy! Woohoo! I’m happy to be beginning the polishing process later today.
As I was writing this past week, I found myself needing to have a box of tissues handy, and as I was reaching for a tissue during one of those touching scenes, I thought to myself: “I don’t know if I have needed the tissue box handy so much while writing a story since I wrote Through Every Storm.” Whether that is true or not, I have no way of proving. I get teary eyed often when writing. But, that is the reason I had to chose an excerpt from Through Every Storm for today’s post.
As far as the song choice goes…well, there are a couple of things in Assessing Mr. Darcy that require apologies to be given. The excerpt I will share below refers to one of those things.
Now, you should know that this might be the last excerpt I will share from that story since it is done. Hopefully, I will have something to share from a different story next Monday.
In other story news, I wrote on Mary Crawford’s story, as well as adding a few hundred words to my dictated short story. It was a very productive week which ended with a lovely visit from my in-laws on the weekend.
And I think that’s all the news there is to share about my current works in progress. I hope you have a wonderful first week of October, but before you go here’s…
AN EXCERPT FROM Assessing Mr. Darcy:
Darcy descended the grand staircase at Netherfield slowly, one painful step at a time. His ankle was improving but placing weight on it was still difficult. Limping around a room with quick steps on a sore ankle was not so bad as attempting to walk down a flight of stairs.
“Are you going somewhere?” Bingley, still dressed in his riding clothes, leaned against the wall at the bottom of the stairs.
How Darcy wished he could have gone for a ride this morning. He was so dreadfully tired of being confined to the house. He had had his fill of his room. However, to venture out of it meant being tended to by Louisa and Caroline, and Caroline seemed just as determined as ever to attempt to sway his mind in her direction.
“Home,” Darcy replied.
“To town or Pemberley?”
“Town. I should l like to see my sister.”
Bingley nodded. “Will you, at least, have tea with me before you leave?”
“Not unless you wish it.” The man had not visited him in two days, and it was obvious from his expression that he was still not happy with Darcy. There was no way Darcy was going to impose on his friend if he was not welcomed to do so.
“I do,” Bingley replied, a small smile tipping his lips, giving away the fact that he was not as put out with Darcy as he pretended. “I do not wish for you to leave.”
Darcy blew out a breath as he completed his journey to the bottom of the staircase and lowered himself onto the second step to rest his ankle before he proceeded any further.
“It still hurts?” Bingley nodded to Darcy’s foot.
Darcy nodded. “It is not as strong as I would like it to be. I think it best to have my physician look at it when I am in town. Now that swelling has receded somewhat, he may see something that was missed before.”
“You are determined to leave then?”
Again, Darcy nodded. “My remaining will only hinder any chance you have of securing Miss Bennet.” He looked up at Bingley. “I did not do you harm intentionally, and I apologize for my temper.”
Bingley extended a hand to Darcy. “Come. Have tea with me. I would like to speak with you.”
Darcy looked at Bingley warily. “You would?” He allowed Bingley to help him rise from where he was seated.
“I would.” He took Darcy by the arm. “Lean on me if you need to.”
“Thank you,” Darcy replied and did just that. He leaned his weight partially on his friend as they moved down the hall to a small withdrawing room behind the larger sitting room.
“Caroline does not like this room,” Bingley whispered. “So, I have made it my own. It has only one smallish window and is therefore too dark for her liking. I do not mind the lack of sunshine so very much. I was about to eat some breakfast in here where it is free of female complaints when I was informed that your coach was being readied for travel.” He locked the door behind him. “I want to make certain my sister does not interrupt me for I would like to eat in peace,” he explained.
Bingley seated himself at a small round table that stood with four chairs near the window at the far end of the narrow room. There was a grouping of three cushioned chairs near the hearth and a ladder-backed chair near the door next to a cabinet which held a decanter and glasses. On the wall across from the hearth was a low bookcase with glass doors. Those pieces of furniture and a few paintings were the extents of the décor in the room. It was a very pleasant room. With the lamp lit, this would be an excellent place to while away some hours with a book.
Darcy carefully took his place at the table. He was slowly learning how to sit down gracefully without causing his ankle too much discomfort. He was still a bit awkward, but not as awkward as he had been just yesterday morning.
“I saw Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth while I was riding today,” Bingley began as he poured tea for himself and Darcy.
“You did?” Darcy asked in surprise.
The left side of Bingley’s lips tipped up and his brows flicked upward and back down quickly. “I did. They were waiting for me.”
Darcy added sugar to his cup. “It was not an accidental meeting?”
Bingley shook his head. “No, Miss Elizabeth wished to speak to me and arranged it so that she could. I am not entirely certain how she knew I would be riding where I was, but she and her sister were waiting and called to me to join them.”
“Her brother must not know of this meeting,” Darcy grumbled.
“You are correct. He does not.” Bingley took a bite of his scone, following it with a bit of tea. “She asked about you.”
“Who asked about me?”
“Miss Elizabeth.”
Darcy could not help the small smile that crept onto his lips. Whether or not he had a hope of ever discovering if they would suit, he still found the information that she had inquired after him to be pleasing.
“She wanted to know if you are well enough for callers.”
Darcy held his cup suspended in the air almost to his lips. “Is she thinking of calling on me?” What sort of lady called on a gentleman? It was supposed to be the other way around.
What will you find in this week’s Music Monday post? Well, today, I have a musical selection from my Music to Write By playlist, news of a “new” book, and an excerpt (half of what is currently the first chapter) from a just started story. So, click play and while this beautiful song swells, read on to find out more.
ThePianoGuys. “The Cello Song – (Bach Is Back with 7 More Cellos) – The Piano Guys.”YouTube. YouTube, 14 June 2011. Web. 29 Jan. 2017.
<– This happened this week. 🙂 I have compiled three of my stand-alone books into an anthology of stories focused on the theme of second chances. Included in this collection are For Peace of Mind, Through Every Storm, and Finally Mrs. Darcy. New Beginnings is available both in ebook (at a nearly 50% savings off the individual titles) and paperback. You can find it at this link: New Beginnings
In addition to publishing this anthology, I also began writing a new story this week. The plan is for this story to be a Dash of Darcy story, which means it should be about 20,000 words and will focus on a new way for Darcy and Elizabeth to get together. I have preliminary plot notes and a few thousand words written. I hope to have the first draft completed by the end of February so that this short novella will be available in March — perhaps in time for some March Break (Spring Break) reading! 😉
Here is a longish excerpt from the beginning of this story:
“Fitzwilliam,” Lady Catherine called to Colonel Fitzwilliam as he passed the door to her sitting room. “Your ride can wait,” she said in answer to the reply she knew was coming.
Colonel Fitzwilliam sighed and turned in to the room.
“Just Fitzwilliam.” Lady Catherine looked down her nose and made a brushing motion with her hand indicating that her other nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy, should leave the room. “Close the door,” she called after him. She waited until it was latched, and she heard footsteps moving away from the room. Then, she took Colonel Fitzwilliam by the arm and pulled him further into the room.
“Sit.” She motioned to a chair in a grouping in front of a window that looked out onto the front garden of the house.
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes and did as instructed. It was pointless to do otherwise. Lady Catherine always had her way or there was a price to pay. It was far cheaper and easier to just listen. “To what might I ascribe the honor of this private conference?”
Lady Catherine’s eyes narrowed at his cheeky tone, but she did not reprimand him for it. He was always attempting to stir her ire, but today, she would allow no such distractions. She stood near the window. She tilted her head to peer out and around toward the door where Darcy was just exiting. “It is time he marries,” she said.
“Darcy?” Richard’s eyes grew wide in surprise.
She nodded and took a seat across from her nephew. “Yes, Darcy. Georgiana is not getting any younger and will need someone besides just her brother to guide her through her first season.”
“But Anne –“
“Not Anne. They would not suit.”
“But?” Richard was at a loss for words. His aunt had always insisted that Darcy would marry Anne. In fact, it was a supposed engagement that had kept Darcy from feeling a need to begin looking in earnest for a lady to help him secure his estate for future generations.
Lady Catherine picked at a small flower on the arm of her chair. “He was not ready to begin a family. I had to keep him from rushing forward into his duty somehow.”
Richard’s mouth dropped open and then snapped shut. There were still no coherent thoughts forming in his mind. What his aunt was currently saying was clashing with what she had always said previously. Had she not taunted Darcy about doing his duty by marrying Anne?
She shook her head as if reading his thoughts. “Darcy was never going to marry Anne, and Anne knew it.”
Richard’s brows furrowed, and his lips pursed into a perplexed scowl. “You will need to explain.”
Lady Catherine rose and walked to the window. Darcy was still pacing in the front garden. “I promised his mother that I would see him marry well and for love.” She raised a brow at Richard, causing his mouth to snap shut. “When his father died, he was not ready to take on the responsibilities of an estate and make a proper decision about a wife. He would have rushed pell-mell into an untenable marriage that would have perhaps resulted in a family, but not a happy one. He would have used some supposed list of qualifications of a proper wife and never thought once about the misery he would have faced as a result.” She tipped her head and gave Richard a firm look. “Do not tell me he would not have done so. You know as well as I that he puts duty before everything.” She shook her head. “I still think he has no idea what sort of wife he requires.”
Richard laughed. “And you do?”
Lady Catherine returned to her chair. “I do, and I have found her.” She chuckled at the way Richard’s mouth dropped open again. “A simple county miss with a keen mind.”
“And you found her?”
Lady Catherine raised one shoulder and let it drop slightly. “I believe, I have.” She leaned forward as she prepared to tell him how she had done it. “My parson is the heir to an estate that is entailed — a distant cousin or some such thing. It is difficult at times to follow his meandering.”
Richard raised a brow and smirked, earning a rap on the knee.
“I am not meandering.”
Richard inclined his head in acceptance although the smirk did not fade from his lips.
“Anyway, this cousin has five daughters — three of a good marriageable age and two just reaching it.” She smiled as the smirk dropped from Richard’s face and was replaced with amazement. “I sent him to find a wife from among them because I reasoned that if he could marry one, then the others might be asked to visit on occasion, and I might be able to select one for Darcy.”
Richard shook his head. “How did you know these ladies would be simple country misses with intelligence?”
Lady Catherine shrugged. “Collins had said their father eschewed town and spent the chief portion of his time in his study. I thought it likely that at least one daughter might have inherited her father’s love of books and learning.”
Richard nodded. That made sense. It was unlikely that all five daughters would be completely unlike their father. “Was he successful?”
Lady Catherine laughed. “No, he was not, and I really should have known he would go about it wrong. He tends to bungle things, but in his bungling, he has made my task of selection most easy.” She laughed again. “She refused him — soundly, and she is not taken with Darcy. Quite the contrary. She thinks him proud.” Her eyes fairly danced with mirth. “Collins did secure a wife, however, and Mrs. Collins happens to be Mrs. Darcy’s particular friend. That is how I know so much about my choice. Mrs. Collins is a lovely lady, very sensible — quite the opposite of her husband.”
Richard’s head tilted to the side. “Your parson has a guest.”
A smile split Lady Catherine’s face. “Upon my urging, he does.”
“The lady you have selected?”
Lady Catherine’s brows flicked up quickly. “Clever is it not?”
I will admit that when this song started playing regularly on the radio, I did not like it. In fact, I can remember whining to a friend that it was “so sad.” But as it played over and over each day as I made supper or did the dishes, I grew to like it — which is a lot like the characters in this week’s featured novella, Through Every Storm.
Lydia and Wickham are easy to dislike. Everyone dislikes them, don’t they? They are horrible, rotten, self-centered individuals….right? Perhaps they were. 😉 However, my challenge in writing this novella was to make them likable. Yes, you heard that correctly, I wished to redeem the unredeemable, so to speak.
But what if after several years of marriage, Wickham has both matured and come to love his wife? What if that wife loves her husband deeply but has not matured as much as he has and still holds on to some scars from her youth? What if she does something stupid and justifiably unforgivable by her husband? What if she discovers the truth behind his reason for marrying her — that he was paid to do it? How does a family, for they have two children, weather such storms?
That’s the story you’ll find in Through Every Storm.
It, like the song this week, is sad, but it, unlike the song, ends on a very sweet and hopeful note. I think you’ll be surprised by the characters. I know I was. I came to love them — yes, actually. 🙂 And I’m not alone. I have heard from readers who have also (shockingly) found themselves liking Lydia and Wickham.
Now, there are two places in this story where Wickham finds himself thinking “please don’t let her be gone.” The first time is in chapter one which can be previewed here: Through Every Storm. The second can be seen in this Music Monday excerpt from when I was writing the story.
Since this novella is featured in this week’s discounted books, I thought I would share the second chapter with you. So, read that first chapter at the link above and then continue on with the chapter below, and I will urge you to give the book a try.
Chapter 2, Through Every Storm
Wickham had slept, but it had been fitful at best. He pulled out his watch fob. One more hour, one more hour and they would be on their way. He paced the length of his bedchamber, his stocking clad feet making a soft padding sound as he paced. His boots stood ready by the door; his bag was packed and waiting. Fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes and Denny would join him to break his fast. Five more minutes of pacing and turning over what he needed to do in his mind. He checked his watch one more time; then, he straightened his cravat, slipped into his coat and tugged on his boots before proceeding down the hall to his wife’s room. There, he gave a loud knock before throwing the door open and striding into the room.
Lydia shot up in bed, clutching the blankets to her. “George!” she squealed. “You gave me such a fright. What do you mean disturbing my sleep so early?”
“We leave in less than an hour. If you wish to dress and eat before entering the carriage, I suggest you get out of bed now.” He spun on his heels and strode out of the room, leaving a gaping and sputtering Lydia.
“Good morning, Wickham,” said Denny as they descended the stairs. “I see you have taken to my method of rousing the wicked.” Denny laughed and smacked Wickham on the back.
Wickham smiled. “Seems effective.” He could hear his wife banging about in her room.
Denny and Wickham were the first to enter the breakfast room and hungrily filled their plates from the steaming serving dishes on the sideboard. They were both half way through their plates and on their second cup of coffee when Lydia stomped into the room.
“Good morning, Lydia. Nice of you to join us,” said Denny.
“As if I had a choice.” Lydia rattled the plates and clanked the serving spoons to show her disgust as she filled her plate.
“You had a choice. Eat or go hungry.” Wickham spread jam on his toast. “If you break the dishes, you will pay for them. I will not. I suggest you swallow your annoyance and start acting like a lady instead of a spoiled child. Good morning, Darcy, Mrs. Darcy.”
