children, heroines, humor, stories, writing

Holly Grayson, Alleluia …

One of Joy’s favorite songs is “All Creatures of our God and King.” She will go around the house humming it for hours, breaking into words only at the “alleluia, alleluia” part.

Grace, being three, likes to imitate her sister in all things, so when Joy starts caroling “Alleluia, alleluia,” Grace immediately joins in.

Only her alleluias don’t always sound the way they’re supposed to. From Grace, it sounds more like she’s singing, “Holly Grayson, Holly Grayson …” (Or, technically, “howwy gwayson,” because she’s still working on her “l”s and “r”s.)

After I checked all their books and TV shows to see if she was singing about some character (she wasn’t), I decided it was just a trick of her hearing alleluia slightly differently, pronouncing it more differently yet, and my ear trying to arrange her nonsense syllables into something that makes sense.

Then I started thinking about what a good name Holly Grayson was for a book character, decided I’d use it sometime.

A couple days later, I decided Holly had long, dark brown hair, and either blue or hazel eyes.

Few days after that, I knew she was strong-willed and sharp-witted, often speaking without thinking, but with a warm heart underneath.

An investigator, I realized shortly thereafter. Not an ordinary investigator, either, but either a paranormal or supernatural one.

Nope, I decided a short time later. Time-traveling investigator, working for the InterGalactic Time Police (what, you didn’t know about them? Oh, they exist, my friends.), except they only let her stay on because of her ability to always get results. They don’t like the way she flouts their rules and doesn’t always respect authority. You can’t fire your top investigator for being a smart-mouth, though, so she stays on, even though they’re always looking for reasons to get rid of her.

Then I decided that her time-traveling machine broke down on her last trip, trapping her in the Victorian Era until she is able to fix it, and that she uses her skills and abilities to help those who can’t help themselves – in fact, that becomes her agency’s motto. Holly Grayson Investigations: We help those who can’t help themselves.

Saturday afternoon, I caved and started writing the story that landed her in the Victorian Era. It’s going to be novelette or novella length, I’m not sure yet. I’m having so much fun with it.

Hey Grace, got any more songs you want to mangle? Just imagine the stories you could inspire!

This is somewhat how I imagine Holly. No talking lions, though. At least not yet.

1920s, Books, heroines, influences

Influences: Agatha Christie

As a kid, I had pretty bad problems with nightmares. The tabloid pictures of the infamous “Bat-Boy” scared me so badly I couldn’t walk through the checkout line at the grocery store for years. Years.

So it may come as a surprise that I adore mysteries. However, I don’t read the really gruesome stuff. I mostly love the mystery writers from the Golden Age – Dorothy L Sayers (LORD PETER FTW!!!!!); Anthony Berkeley; Margery Allingham (Campion may start out as a pale imitation of Lord Peter, but quickly develops into his own charming self); Josephine Tey; Ngaio Marsh; and I’ve been trying to read Freeman Wills Croft for years but only just recently found ONE of his books free for Kindle so I’ll finally be able to give him a chance …

And of course, the queen of them all, Agatha Christie.

The first Agatha Christie I ever read was The A.B.C. Murders. I know, an odd pick for someone prone to nightmares! I should have started with Tommy and Tuppence. Still, it was better to start with that one than with And Then There Were None, which was my other choice at the time. And amazingly enough, though I didn’t dare put it down before finishing it (for fear the serial killer would come after me before I learned his/her identity, duh), I didn’t get any nightmares from it. Just extreme fascination.

David Suchet IS Hercule Poirot. No one else comes close.

I quickly fell in love with the fussy little Belgian detective Poirot, and with the masterful way Christie wove her stories and her characters so intricately with each other. It wasn’t long before I’d read every Christie book that my mother owned, and had moved on to the library, and then onto buying them for myself. At this point in my life, my Agatha Christie collection has spilled off my bookshelves, and I am now stacking the books on top of each other because I’ve run out of room for them anywhere else.

Some are less brilliant than others; some recycle the same plot under a different guise (as Dame Agatha herself slyly informs us in the person of Mrs Oliver, the most beautiful self-insert ever created); some are implausible; some frankly impossible; all of them are a delight to read. I started out a die-hard fan of Poirot, grew into a Tommy and Tuppence fangirl, and at this point in my life am firmly Team Marple. Murder at the Vicarage is one of my favorite stories of all time, and who can help but love the opening to The Body in the Library?

“But the worst is so often true.”

(While on the topic of Mrs Oliver, her indignation at the assumption she bases all of her characters on real people, as well as her description of how she does come up with her characters (in, I believe, Hallowe’en Party), is so exactly along the lines of how I feel and the way I work that it never ceases to astonish and gratify me, every time I read it. And whenever I read now about authors who DO blatantly base characters off of real people, I wonder how on earth they can do so and still feel that the character belongs to them.)
Much of Maia, the MC of my 1920s adventure fantasy, is inspired by Virginia Revel of The Secret of Chimneys, as well as Bundle Brent, Anne Beddingfeld, Frankie Derwent, Tuppence herself, and others of Christie’s “plucky girl sleuths.” I think I love Virginia especially because she is older and has already HAD adventures, and yet is eager for more (“Oh Anthony! How perfectly screaming!” she says upon revelation of the hero’s Dark Secret), and Anne for her impulsive yet essentially practical outlook on life (the way she cheeks Lord Nasby into giving her a job is priceless). “Let’s have an adventure” is pretty much what my outlook on life has always been, and it’s mostly thanks to Christie (well, CS Lewis shares some responsibility for that).
This image of Tommy and Tuppence is sheer delight
Agatha Christie truly is one of the greatest writers of all time, and while I’ve come a long way from that young girl delightfully shivering as she read about Poirot and Hastings tracking down an alphabetical maniac, I will never outgrow my pure enjoyment of her books. What better tribute can I give?
characters, favorites, heroines, Life Talk, TV, Watch

Television Heroines

As promised, the companion post to my piece on favorite tv heroes. This time, it’s all about the ladies! Without further ado, I present my top five favorite tv heroines.

Lorelai Gilmore, Gilmore Girls: Oddly enough, I never really liked Rory on this show. You’d think I would, right? Quiet, bookish, ambitions of writing … yet I always felt like she came across as this spoiled, pampered little princess who assumed everything would go her way and couldn’t handle it when life got a bit difficult. Lorelai, on the other hand, is the kind of mom I can only dream about being. She’s fun and loving and kind and savvy and present (not just physically, but wholly); she’s not perfect but she never quits trying; she has a life of her own but still always puts her kid first. And she has great hair and a razor-sharp wit. Yep, pretty awesome.

 
Zoe Washburne, Firefly: I love Zoe. I want to be Zoe when I grow up. She is a rarity in television, an action heroine who is also happily married. Her combination of deadly combat skills, fierce loyalty, dry wit, and loving fidelity is amazing. Plus she gets awesome one-liners. My mom likes River the best, and I know a lot of people really love Kaylee (and don’t get me wrong, I like both of them, too – I think Kaylee would make a terrific best friend), but for me, it’s all about Zoe. She’s strong and still human, and that’s hard to find in any kind of heroine these days, television or literary; most are either all strength and no human emotions, or all vulnerability and weakness with a side helping of unrealistic warrior skills. Not Zoe. I also really love the fact that she’s a sci-fi action heroine who does not spend the entirety of the show running around half-dressed. And she’s a really, really good shot.
 
Captain Kathryn Janeway, Star Trek: Voyager: I know I complained in my heroes post about the fact that Voyager focused almost solely on Captain Janeway … but that doesn’t take away from the fact that she’s still a fantastic character. A female starship captain who never exhibits any signs of belligerence or insecurity toward the men under her command, or the other officers in Starfleet; a leader thrown with a totally unconventional crew across the galaxy, trying to get them home without ever going against her principles; a captain trying to maintain protocol with the crew while still providing them with the stability and comfort they need; an explorer faced with unprecedented challenges … as long as she had her coffee, Janeway took everything in her stride and faced it with humor and dignity.
 
 
Detective Kate Beckett, Castle: I only recently started watching Castle, and so far have only made it through Season 1. Season 2 should be coming to me through inter-library loan any day now. (edit: just picked it up from the library. can’t wait to start watching.) So I’m not sure how Beckett’s character developed in later seasons, but based on Season 1, I think she’s fabulous. She’s tough but compassionate, which I love in any character, male or female. She doesn’t take any nonsense from anyone. I love watching her get the best of Castle in any of their exchanges, and the developing friendship (which I know from things I’ve read turns to romance later, but is really great as a friendship, too) between them is so much fun to watch.
 
 
Donna Noble, Doctor Who: This one is kind of cheating. Donna’s not technically one of the stars of this show, more of a supporting character (and that only for one season, weep, weep) … but I love her so much that I don’t care. I really liked Rose; I would have liked Martha if she hadn’t let her inferiority complex turn her into such a drip; I loved Sarah Jane in the one episode of the new series (no, I haven’t watched any of the classic series, and Netflix doesn’t have The Sarah Jane Adventures, so I need to start borrowing those from the library too before I can know more about her); but Donna has turned out to be my favorite so far (I’m in the middle of Series 4). She’s the perfect foil for the Doctor, in her humor and compassion and strength. She’s not in love with him (thank goodness!) but their friendship is so, so strong, and they both grow and gain so much from the other. I even love her abrasiveness, the fact that she doesn’t take any crap from anyone. Her relationship with her grandfather is just icing on the cake. I know how her story arc ends (yes, I read spoilers, especially when I’m watching old seasons of a show), and I’m finding myself really reluctant to finish watching Series 4, because I don’t want to leave her behind. Well, I don’t really want to say goodbye to the Tenth Doctor, either, if I’m being perfectly honest.
 
donna2.jpg

 
It seems that my favorite female characters share the same traits I admire most in male characters – strength blended with compassion, the ability to stand up for themselves and for others, loyalty, a ready wit, and a thorough love for adventure. Being ready and willing to take out the bad guy doesn’t hurt, either.
Books, characters, heroes, heroines, humor, reading list

"She Was Only Anne"

I am not a book reviewer, and this blog is not a review blog. I adore book review blogs. I just don’t review very well. I have a hard time being objective, and looking at something as either well-done or poorly-done, instead of “I liked this” or “this irritated the heck out of me.”

However. I am re-reading Persuasion for, I don’t know, the seventh time? Tenth? I don’t keep track of how often I read books, honestly. I know I started reading Austen back in my college days, and have re-read her books many times since. Sense and Sensibility is my least favorite – I would venture so far as to say I rather dislike it, mostly because all the characters are in good need of a Gibbs-head-slap – and my favorite keeps changing throughout the years. Right now, and for a few years, it is Persuasion, followed closely by Emma.

I think Anne Elliot is the best of all Austen’s heroines. More depth to her character than Lizzy Bennet, more spirit than Fanny Price, more clarity of vision than Emma Woodhouse, more common sense than Cathy Morland, and more understanding and wisdom than the Dashwood sisters. I love, as I approach my thirtieth year, that she is an older heroine, and one who blossomed later in life instead of early. I love how she shows that gentleness does not equal weakness, just as Louisa Musgrove proves that spiritedness does not equal strength of character.

Captain Wentworth is, I think, a bit of a jerk. He’s held a grudge against Anne for years, is deliberately rude to her, and flirts with the Musgrove girls without a care for how he might be affecting them. Yet, he is no Darcy, because we get to see him improve slowly throughout the book – not just changing after he is confronted with his faults, because he wants to be worthy of his love (I really hate the message that sends – that if you love somebody enough, you can change their character flaws. IT DOESN’T WORK THAT WAY OUTSIDE THE MOVIE AND BOOK WORLD). He sees his flaws for himself, recognizes where he has been unjust and acted wrongly, and then moves decisively to correct himself.

And I think that’s one reason why Anne and Captain Wentworth are such a good match – they loved each other as youth, were separated and grew up apart from each other, each developing into their own person, and then came back together as fully realized adults, each offering something special to the other, to help make the other complete.

Persuasion is great not just for the MCs, though. The supporting characters are all brilliantly drawn too – Mary Musgrove cracks me up with every re-reading; Admiral and Mrs Croft are delightful; Mr Elliot and Mrs Clay are just the right sort of villains – not too obvious.

Then there is the scenery, and the overall feel of the book. I almost always read Persuasion in the autumn or winter months. It is that sort of book; it feels wrong to read it when it is light and sunny out. With only a few words Austen gives us a clear picture of Kellynch, of Lyme (oh how I want to visit there someday!), and of Bath. Bath comes through even clearer in Persuasion, I think, than in Northanger Abbey.

It shows the mark of being written by an older, experienced author. The pace is calmer, the humor subtler, the tone quieter and deeper than the others. It is, I think, Jane Austen’s masterpiece, and I think it a true pity that it is so often overshadowed by the brighter but shallower Pride and Prejudice.

Next up on my fall/winter reading list: Shakespeare and Elizabeth Gaskell! What are you planning on reading this month?

1920s, Books, children, families, heroines, Life Talk

Libraries and Death Traps

Thank you all, again, for your kind words on my last post. You brought a lump to my throat more than once.

We’re still at my parents’ until Tuesday morning; Grandma’s memorial service is Monday. We’re looking forward to having much of the clan gathered together for it. Even though funerals are sad, we always manage to have something of a good time just because we’re together. Some of the aunts and uncles have only met my littles once or twice, so I’m happy (and slightly nervous) to introduce my small people to the larger family.

We also had Joy’s fourth birthday party today; I can’t wait to put pictures up on here from it. It was a woodland butterfly fairy tea party (originally, it was going to be a bird and flower and butterfly theme, but it evolved. These things happen), and even the three men involved (my husband, father, and brother-in-law) wore butterfly wings. O yes, they did. They all love Joy very much. They are also all very secure in their masculinity.

And my sister and I made sure to get them blue wings. Pink might have been carrying things a little too far.

And for a first, Joy only got one book for her birthday (and that from Carl and me). Usually books make up the bulk of her gifts. I’m sure she will get more once she receives her package from Carl’s aunt, a librarian in Maine. She always sends lots of book for birthdays and holidays. We are always very happy to see presents from G-Auntie.

This is the book we got for Joy:

No, wait. Wrong one. This one:

thanks to a recommendation from Rockin Librarian (thank you!). I’m excited to see what stories Joy concocts from the illustrations.

Meanwhile, my mom, sister and I are all sick (watching the two of them trying to tack up sheets and white lights while simultaneously hacking and blowing their noses would have been funny if I weren’t trying to slice vegetables without sneezing into them), and I am starting to go a little bit crazy from not writing at all in the last week plus – not since coming up here last Thursday. Family is more important, hands down, no questions asked and no regrets … but writing is such a part of me that I’m starting to feel starved for it.

And my characters are starting to haunt my dreams. Plus last night I dreamed that I had to scale a rickety ladder and swing from a rope to get into a library’s second story, not to mention crawling along the outside of the roof and breaking through a window (and was I ever pissed when I got inside and saw an escalator that led to main lobby, and I realized the librarian at the desk had sent me up the death trap way for, apparently, a lark, and then the escalators shut down because the library closed and I had to come down the same way and I DIDN’T EVEN GET TO CHECK OUT MY BOOKS), which I think is indication that my subconscious is telling me to not neglect books so much.

Or, you know, it could have been the rum in the tea last night. Whatever.

(Almost worse than the horrific ladder (I have a good head for heights, but I have always always hated ladders, and swinging from a frail rope to try to reach a roof window is not my idea of fun) was that I had found a brand-new, just-discovered Lloyd Alexander book in the children section (downstairs) and when I didn’t get to check my books out, I had to leave it behind. LLOYD ALEXANDER, newly-discovered book!)

I am working on the MG rewrite, but of today, Maia of the 1920s fantasy-adventure has been chatting to me, reminding me, impatiently, that I left her in Grave Danger and she needs a chance to Prove Her Worth. She is most definitely not a helpless heroine, and she doesn’t like being left a victim without a chance to take on the villain herself. So I think I need to get back to her soon. She gets very crabby when left alone for too long.

And now if you’ll excuse me, I have some rum-and-tea and a box of tissues calling my name.

And some pictures of three men in butterfly wings to upload onto my computer.

Books, heroes, heroines

What Makes A Hero?

In keeping with the recent post on Peter Pevensie (AKA High King Peter the Magnificent – now there’s a title to live up to!), which got me thinking again about my Hero and Everyman post, and also with the start of a brand-new season of NCIS:LA this week (yes, aside from figure skating – and by the way, you will probably have to suffer through a post or two on that this winter, because that’s just how I roll – the NCIS shows are the only television I really care about anymore. Although I am really, really curious about Once Upon A Time starting in October, given its fairy tale premise), I got thinking about the kind of hero that I have always been drawn to, both in literature and film (and television).

So here you have it.

The type of hero I prefer:

Sam more than Callen (NCIS:LA)

Will more than Jack (Pirates of the Caribbean) (only in the first, though, because then Will just got irritating and Jack got immensely more charming)

Faramir more than Boromir (Lord of the Rings)

Mr Knightley (or Henry Tilney) more than Mr Darcy or Captain Wentworth (Jane Austen’s novels)

Etc, etc.

Not necessarily the squeaky-clean, never had any faults (like Peter) hero, but the one who isn’t angsting all over the place, the one who is truly good, the one who knows what is right and strives to do it. Not so much the tortured anti-hero for me. One of my chief complaints about the LotR films was the changes they made to Boromir and Faramir’s characters – how they made Boromir, the weak one, seem more heroic, and turned Faramir, who was strong and just and good, into somebody who was weak and willing to do almost anything to earn his father’s approval. GRRR.

I think that’s one reason I like Edmund so much in the Narnia books, because we get to see his journey from the most un-heroic beginning to a man who is confident in what is right, and acts upon it without much inner anguish or tortured questioning or intense struggles between what he wants and what he should do.

(Unless, of course, you are reading much of the Narnia fanfiction out there, where Edmund spends the rest of his life beating himself up for his temporary alliance with the Witch. GRRR again.)

Taran, from Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain Chronicles, is another similar character – one who starts out with foolish ideas about what a hero is, and grows to be a quiet and unassuming hero of his own without even realizing it.

This applies to heroines as well, of course. I have mentioned before about my fondness for Cecy and Kate of the Sorcery & Cecilia books by Patricia Wrede and Caroline Stevermer. There are two girls who are confident in what is right, and able to act upon it. Granted, their actions often stir up yet more trouble, but that just adds to the fun. And it’s not over-confidence, either – don’t get me wrong. I’m not a fan of the smug, or even the one who never questions. I think that’s why I liked Will so much in the first PotC movie – when his sense of rightness clashed with “the rules” he’d always lived by, he had to undergo a struggle to determine which was stronger – his instinct for justice, or what he’d always believed. Which made his decision in the end far more cheer-worthy.

Or Sam, from NCIS:LA – though it tore at him to break away from NCIS in last season’s finale, to walk away from the structure he lived by, it was more important to help his friends (and save Hetty). If Callen hadn’t walked away first, would Sam have done so? I’m not sure, but once Callen did, Sam had to back up his friend and partner.

And that is awesome stuff, and to me, the sort of thing that makes a hero (or heroine) truly interesting, and truly worth emulating.

What sort of heroes do you prefer – the tortured ones, the ones suffering from a lot of inner angst, the anti-hero like Captain Jack Sparrow, or the simpler heroes, like Sam and Faramir, etc? I think there’s a lot to be said for all kinds, and I’m always interested to hear where other people differ from my preferences – it helps me broaden my writing repertoire as well as gives me stuff to chew on personally! Also, when it comes to Jane Austen heroes, am I the only one who thinks that Mr Darcy remains something of a bore even after his change, and that Mr Knightley is one of the greatest heroes in literature (I know Rockinlibrarian agrees with me on Henry Tilney’s swoon-worthiness, at least!)?

children, heroines, quotes

True Princesses

My nearly-four-year-old and I share a fascination with Princess Kate – I beg her pardon, Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge. We just call her Princess Kate, though.

Joy and I (and my father) happily watched as much of the Royal Wedding as we got up in time to see. Granted, most of Joy’s thrills came from the horses that pulled the carriages, and with the bride’s beautiful white dress. Mine came because I had adored Princess Diana as a little girl, and it felt like coming full circle to watch my daughter sit in absorbed fascination at her son’s wedding.

We don’t do Disney princesses around here. This hasn’t been so much of a conscious decision against those sorts of princesses; we just don’t do much for television or movies at all. As my girls get older, though, I am devoutly thankful that their ideas of princesses come from the likes of Princess Kate and Audrey Hepburn’s Princess Anne in “Roman Holiday” (we watched that on Hepburn’s birthday), rather than pale, insipid versions of fairy tales princesses.

I’m not sure whether Disney is the root or the result of the problem with how we in this culture instinctively view princesses. I do know it is a more modern way of looking at things – that “princess” is synonymous with privilege and luxury, instead of responsibility and sacrifice. A perfect example of the difference, and how much things have changed in the last hundred years, is looking at the difference between the book A Little Princess, written by Frances Hodgson Burnett in 1905 (revised from a serial written in 1888), and the popular movie version that came out in 1995.

In the book, Sara’s “pretend” that she is a princess starts while she is living in pampered luxury, but where it really takes effect is when everything is stripped away from her. She says, in effect (my copy of the book is in a box at the other house right now, so I can’t give exact quotes), “Anyone can be a princess when she has lots of pretty things and everyone likes her. A true princess shows her worth when all that is taken away.” Sara shows her true “princess-ness” by always being courteous and kind to those who constantly belittle and abuse her, by giving generously of what she still has left – namely, her imagination and story-telling abilities – to those around her, and by sacrificing her own needs to those who are less fortunate even than she (“this is one of the populace, and I’m not truly starving,” she says, as she gives away her buns to the little beggar girl, in one of the most poignant and beautiful scenes in the entire book). Because of the era in which the book was written, she of course receives her reward in the end, but still, the idea is that because she was a princess when everything was dark and bad, she was raised up again to luxury and comfort.

The movie sends a different message. It’s been several years since I watched it, but I remember the general idea as well as specific scenes quite plainly. From what I remember, and reviews I’ve read, what sets Sara apart from the other girls as a “princess” isn’t so much how she behaves as her imagination. She doesn’t always treat everyone with respect, as is shown in one scene where she pretends to place a curse on the school’s “mean girl.” In the book, Sara does have a fierce temper, but part of being a princess means she has to control it, even when she wants to box the bully’s ears.

In the movie, Sara’s salvation comes when all the girls put their differences aside and band together to help her. And in the end, they realize that they are all princesses at heart, if they just tap into their potential. At surface, that seems like an “awww” idea. But looking at it more deeply, it is directly opposite to the idea proposed in the book, which is that one has to work and sacrifice and love deeply to be a true princess – you are a princess if you behave the same regardless of your circumstances, instead of needing the circumstances to be just so to show you your worth.

The difference is subtle, but like I said before: I want my girls to grow up with the idea that it is how you behave to others that sets you apart, not how others treat you. Yes, dear girls, by all means grow up with princesses as examples, but let them be princesses like Sara Crewe of the book, not of the movie.

Or, as King Lune puts it in The Horse and His Boy,

“For this is what it means to be king: to be first in every desperate attack and last in every desperate retreat, and when there’s hunger in the land (as there must be now and then in bad years) to wear finer clothes and laugh louder over a scantier meal than any man in your kingdom.”

It’s not about privilege. It’s about sacrificing for your people, for those you love. And that, my friends, is the noblest goal of all.

ETA: Re-reading this, I realized this could really be the companion piece to my Hero and Everyman post. Connections without even realizing it!

What are your thoughts on princesses? Are you a fan of Disney? Do you agree that it is good to have fictional role models, even princesses, so long as those role models show praiseworthy traits?

characters, favorites, heroes, heroines

My Favorite Literary Couple

Betsy Ray and Joe Willard are one of my all-time favorite literary couples. I love everything about them, from their first meeting in “Heaven to Betsy,” to the absolutely lovely recounting of the first years of their marriage in “Betsy’s Wedding.”
I’ve wondered sometimes what makes me like them even more than most classic couples, such as, say, Anne and Gilbert
Or Elizabeth and Mr Darcy
Or even Taran and Eilonwy (a classic couple for fans of YA Fantasy)
I even like them a little bit better than Molly Gibson and Roger Hamley, which is shocking.
But there you have it. For some reason, Betsy and Joe just stand out above the rest for me. After thinking about it, I’ve come up with a few reasons why:
(Note: I’m not saying that none of the other couples I mentioned don’t have all these traits, just not all together, like Betsy and Joe)
  1. Joe really respects Betsy. He doesn’t just adore her without thinking of her as a person, or think her perfection without recognizing her human flaws, or worship the ground she walks on without acknowledging that she has a brain. He respects her as a person, a human being, and he doesn’t try to shelter, coddle, or protect her. He critiques her writing honestly, and tells her real ways she can improve it. He is fiercely competitive in the first three years of their high school writing rivalry, but it is always a friendly competition.
  2. Although Betsy and Joe meet when they are fourteen, it is not at all certain they will end up together by the end of the series. There is an obvious attraction there, but while the reader hopes they will act on it, between their own stubbornness and outside influences, one can’t be at all sure. So that, when they do end up together, there is simultaneously a sense of “Of course!” and “Whew!”
  3. (and somewhat connected to 2) Because we get to see Betsy with SO many other boys, and Joe with at least one other girl, we are able to see even more clearly how perfect they are for each other, in contrast with all the other romances they’ve had.
  4. They are neither best friends nor bitter enemies. Nor do either of them think of the other as a sibling, while the other is hopelessly in love. Thank goodness!
  5. They don’t start dating (or courting, I suppose, given the era) and immediately get engaged and then married and everything is perfect. We get to see them continue to quarrel and make up, and even to break up for a time. Things aren’t perfect after they are married, either, but they meet every challenge with love and humor, and it makes them so human. In fact, everything about them is human and realistic, while still romantic enough to make the reader swoon.
So there you have it! My top five reasons why I love Betsy and Joe so much. All good things to keep in mind, for me, when writing romance between my own characters.
Who is your favorite literary couple? What are some things that you love in a literary romance, and what are some things you hate? Out of the five couples I mentioned, which do you like the best? Don’t you love Vera Neville’s illustrations for the Betsy-Tacy books?
characters, families, heroines

Jo March and Sundries

This was going to be a post on Jo and Laurie, and why I don’t think they would have been a good couple, but I’ve been ranting about Amy various places lately, and realized that this post needed to mostly be about Jo, with everyone else tossed in as they relate to her.

First of all:

Even though Josephine “Jo” March did not make it to my list of favorite literary heroines, she only missed it by a hair, and only because I already had twelve and couldn’t justify making it any longer. And also because Louisa May Alcott’s moralizing-on-the-brink-of-preachiness style of writing has such a tendency to get under my skin that my irritation with her can bleed into my feelings toward Jo.

But Jo is still an old friend, and someone I admire. Her growth through “Little Women,” and then as she is seen in “Little Men” and “Jo’s Boys,” is both realistic and beautiful – she becomes a gracious and responsible woman without losing any of her strength, her independence, or her individuality. Watching her learn, with the help of her mother, how to control her temper has always been a favorite theme of mine throughout the first book. Watching her as a mother to her two boys, and pseudo-mother to a whole host of other children in the later books, is almost as delightful. Her struggles to accept Beth’s mortality, and the strength that she lends her family during that time; her fierce rebellion against growing up before deciding to turn it to her advantage; her hatred of society’s meaningless conventions … she is a dear, our Jo.

And, of course, her friendship with Laurie. O, that controversial topic. Let me state my position right off the bat:

I do not think Jo and Laurie should have been married.

There. I said it.

Now, hold off on the pitchforks for just a moment and let me explain (then you can all come charging at me again, if you like).

I don’t think Laurie ever really respected Jo enough as a person. He didn’t take her seriously. He was in love with her, that much is true, but emotion alone is not enough to build a strong and lasting relationship. As Jo herself said, he would have resented her writing after a while, because it took her away from him. He would have been embarrassed by her oddities and how awkward she was in society – or worse, he would have been amused by her, and treated her like an exotic possession, to be brought out to startle polite company.

And Jo didn’t take Laurie seriously, either. She never would have believed he truly meant anything he set out to do, and would have treated him with a calm condescension that would have infuriated and deflated his ambitions. She would have sensed that he relied on her as his conscience, and would have resented that. She would try to fit into what she thought he wanted her to be, and hated every minute of it, and ended by hating him.

At least, that’s how I see it. They were the best of friends, but not all best friends should marry. I suppose it made more sense to me as a kid, because, you see, my best friend was a boy, and almost everyone around us assumed that we would fall in love as we got older and get married. We knew, though, that such a relationship would never, ever work, that our temperaments were too alike in crucial areas and too different in others, that the very things that made our friendship so strong would destroy us if we were ever so stupid to fall in love.

And life proved us right, as we are both happily married to other people now, and still very good friends. Ethan was, in fact, the one that introduced me to my husband, and he was best man at our wedding.

Having said all that, I still cannot forgive Amy for marrying Laurie. Or for existing, for that matter. I have never been able to get over the way she destroyed Jo’s book. And I know she almost drowned/froze in the river afterward, but all that did was turn it around so that Jo was the bad guy and Amy the suffering victim. If she had killed a living pet of Jo’s nobody would have let her off so easily. Jo’s book was as alive to her and important as any pet could have been!

And then Europe. If she really was a good person by that point, instead of simply having all the outward appearances of goodness, she could have said to Aunt Carrol, “Thank you so much for your offer, Aunt, but Aunt March did always promise to take Jo and it isn’t right that she should lose this chance just because she was having a bad day due to me forcing her to do something she didn’t like and isn’t good at; please take her with you instead of me.” I hate how she was portrayed so sweet and good, and yet took everything Jo ought to have had, and calmly accepted it as her due. She knew that Laurie loved Jo, and had no way of knowing that Jo didn’t love him, but she fell for him anyway, never once thinking of her sister bearing all the family burdens at home. Selfish beast!

I’ve also never really liked Professor Bhaer, though I can accept him better in the latter two books. Still, though, I get the impression that LMA tossed him in because she knew her readers would never allow her to leave Jo unmarried. Not that I wanted Jo to be alone and single all her days (UNLESS SHE WANTED TO), but the professor was just … bland. There was nothing to him. Jo should have married someone strong, to match her, but gentle where she was sharp, and calm where she was excitable, and vice-versa. Someone with a rich sense of humor and a good view of the world. Someone – and this is very important – practical and fun, who could help her regain some of the spirit she lost during those hard years nursing Beth and after Beth died (while Amy was off in Europe stealing Laurie). Someone who viewed life as an adventure, not a philosophical treatise. Basically, she married her father, and I never liked Mr. March.

Poor Jo. She got cheated by LMA in so many ways. I can understand why so many people wanted her to marry Laurie, because of how gypped she was of a proper happy ending, but I still veer away there. Not Laurie, not a character LMA ever wrote (perhaps because she never met a man like that), but someone, somewhere, had to be a match for our beloved Jo.

And maybe he would have been able to squelch Amy, as nobody else was ever able to do!

What are your thoughts on the Jo-Laurie relationship? Did you like Professor Bhaer? Is boiling in oil too kind for Amy?

characters, favorites, heroines

Favorite Literary Heroines

I’ve been seeing a few posts around the blog-o-sphere lately compiling a list of people’s favorite heroes, heroines, couples, families, you name it. Well, thought I, I have my favorites too. Why not share? I was only going to do ten, but I found I just couldn’t cut it past twelve (plus a few who are so closely connected to each other I just put them in the same entry).

Ready? Here goes!


Eilonwy, Princess of Llyr (Lloyd Alexander):

When I think of favorite literary heroines, Eilonwy is the first to come to mind. Which is appropriate, really, as I cannot imagine the outspoken princess ever taking second place to anyone, for any reason. If I tried, I am sure her response would be, “Louise of Bates House, I am not speaking to you!”

Eilonwy is delightful for so many reasons. She’s spunky. She doesn’t sit around and wait to be rescued – in fact, she is quite often the one doing the rescuing. She tells the hero exactly what he needs to hear, and never pampers his ego. She is brave and strong, but realistic, too – she is frightened at times, and mourns the losses of those she loves. She can be unexpectedly kind, too, which is a nice trait in a heroine.

She can use magic, but gives it up to fulfill a greater destiny. She can ride and fight and quest (though I have to wonder how and where she found armor and weapons to fit her small stature in The High King). And though she is beautiful, she is happiest when dressed in practical, comfortable clothing, and doesn’t really care about her appearance at all. Ah, Eilonwy. If and when my girls get to the “princess” stage, I am going to encourage them to be a princess like you!

Mara Jade (Mirax Terrik) (Timothy Zahn and Michael A Stackpole):

These two might strike some as a little odd (or at the very least, they show my geek side), as they both come from the Star Wars Extended Universe novels. The beautiful and deadly Mara’s first appearance is in the Thrawn trilogy, while Mirax and her smuggler’s ship Pulsar Skate grace the pages of the X-Wing series. I love them both.

Not just because they get to fly (and fight) circles around the boys of the Star Wars universe. Not just because they, along with Leia and some others, provide great heroes for the females of this world who happen to like Star Wars (there are more of us out there than many realize). Not just because they are both beautiful and smart.

It’s for all of these reasons, and a few others. They are strong and brave, and yet still vulnerable at times and in places. They aren’t perfect. Mara is about as flawed as you can get, but she fights to become better, to overcome the tragedies in her past. She doesn’t wallow. They neither of them are all about the angst – they are much more apt to go blow something up instead of burst into tears.

That’s my kind of heroine.

Anne Shirley (LM Montgomery):

Is there any little girl who didn’t grow up loving Anne? (Aside from little girls who grew up on PEI and had her shoved down their throats so much they can’t stand her – I’m thinking of you, Andrea!) she was an orphan. She had red hair. She was spunky and smart. She had a ferocious temper. She lived on a beautiful, magical island with two wonderful guardians. She had an amazing imagination. She got into, and out of, scrapes with charming regularity. She had a best friend who adored her. She chased her dreams and found them. She had Gilbert Blythe. Need I say more?

Miranda “Randy” Melendy (Elizabeth Enright):

Thimble Summer is the best known of Enright’s books, and I do like Garnet of the long wheat-colored braids; I have also always been tremendously fond of Portia from the Gone-Away books. Randy, though … possibly because she is in four books instead of one or two … Randy has always had a special spot in my heart.

She is the second-youngest in a family of four. Her older sister Mona is beautiful and poised, a talented actress. Rush, one step above Randy, is a brilliant mathematician and remarkable pianist. Randy? She likes to draw and dance, but she always feels inadequate in her older siblings’ shadows. Yet she doesn’t mope about it – for the most part, she just admires them intensely, and pursues her own path.

I always felt like my older sister was good at everything, while I was just the clumsy little sister (just like Randy – although I never fell out of a boat in Central Park, or ran my bike into the back of a bus) (I have, however, sprained my ankle ice skating). Like Randy, though, I tried not to let it affect me too much; my parents always told me to focus on what I liked, instead of always thinking my sister could do it better. Which explains the writing!

I think Enright’s illustrations also affected my fondness for Randy. That mop of curly dark hair, especially when she’s leaping and pirouetting, that snub nose … she just looks delightful. More than that, she looks like the kind of girl I would have wanted for a best friend when I was ten and eleven. What more could you ask from a heroine?

Anthea (Bobbie) (E. Nesbit):

I have searched and searched, but I can’t find Anthea’s last name anywhere. She is the second-oldest of the Five Children and It children, whom I first met, actually, in The Phoenix and the Carpet. Nicknamed “Panther” by her siblings, Anthea is smart, kind, practical, and thoughtful. One of my favorite parts of Phoenix is when the carpet has taken the Lamb away, and Anthea makes Cyril hit her hand with the poker so she has an excuse for her tears when she goes up to Mummy’s room. Bravery, practicality, self-sacrifice – all in one simple scene.

Bobbie from The Railway Children is the same sort. When she find out by accident what happened to her father, she joins forces with her mother to keep the secret from the younger ones. When she wistfully wishes to the injured Jim that she was a boy, he reassures her that she is just fine as she is (did anyone else want the two of them to get married when they grew up?). And that final scene where she sees her father coming off the train and runs to him … I havenever been able to read that without sobbing desperately. Oh yes, I love Bobbie.

Elizabeth Warrington “Betsy” (or Betsye or Bettina) Ray (Maud Hart Lovelace):

Betsy is a bit like Anne to me – how can you not love her? It always saddens me to hear of people who did not grow up with Betsy, Tacy, and Tib. I’ve always appreciated so much that Lovelace takes us from when Betsy is five all the way to when she’s a young bride. I grew up right along with Betsy and the Crowd, and they were all so real to me, from mischievous Winona to demure Carney to gallant Cab to that idiot Phil Brandish. And Joe, of course! Betsy and Joe are one of my all-time favorite book romances.

Betsy is a writer, and wrote from the time she was a child (just like me!). She was also a thoroughly normal girl, concerned about her looks, her popularity, BOYS, family, being a better friend and person … I first read about her struggles and triumphs as a newlywed when Iwas a newlywed, and I felt like finally, I wasn’t alone in trying to figure out all this living-with-another-person business!

Plus, she lived during one of my favorite time periods in history. Her clothes … oh, I’ve always been so grateful to Lovelace for providing such rich detail of what it was like to live back then!

Mariel Gullwhacker (Brian Jacques):

What’s that? You weren’t expecting to find a mouse on this list? Silly you! Mariel whacks gulls and searats and all sorts of vermin. She doesn’t ask for pretty compliments, but if you don’t show her respect you just might fight a knotted rope between your ears! She is as brave as a badger and loves her father beyond all reason. She is my kind of mouse!

Anne Elliot (Jane Austen):

I like Elizabeth Bennet, but my absolute favorite of Austen’s heroines is Anne Elliot ofPersuasion. Not impossibly good, like Fanny of Mansfield Park, but steadfast, noble, and quietly brave. She has one of the finest characters in all literature – truly someone to aspire toward! Persuasion is my favorite Austen novel (with Emma a close second), and Anne is the main reason.

Well, Anne and Lyme. Someday I will travel to England and visit Lyme!

Elizabeth Ann “Betsy” (Dorothy Canfield Fisher):

Another Betsy makes the list! This one from Understood Betsy, one of my favorite childhood books. She starts out horribly smothered, but by partway through, Betsy becomes another one of those strong heroines I love so well. Her resourcefulness is what really draws me to her, though – her constant question of “What would Cousin Ann do?” and then figuring out the best solution to her problem – so remarkable! How she rescues little Molly from the Wolf Pit … how she learns to overcome her math phobia (oh, how well I empathized with her difficulties there!) … her plan for helping the little boy at school get adopted … most especially how she figures out how to get herself and Molly home from the fair after they’ve been abandoned there. At only ten years old, no less!

My mother’s family is from Vermont, and so I think I was drawn to Betsy even more because she went to live on a farm in Vermont. Reading descriptions of the old farmhouse made me think of my great-grandparents’ home, which in turn always made me feel cozy and comfortable while reading Betsy’s exploits.

Kate, Lady Schofield (Caroline Stevermer (and Patricia C Wrede)):

The Cecy and Kate books, though I didn’t discover them until after I was married, have become some of my all-time favorite YA lit. I suspect, had I read them when I was a teen, Cecy would have been my favorite. Her impulsive behavior, her “we must do something” attitude, her not-always-justified self-confidence … all traits that would have appealed greatly to my teenage (or younger) self.

As an adult, however, I found myself empathizing much more with the more cautious and clumsy Kate. Oh, especially her clumsiness! The fact that she never feels herself adequate for anything until the crisis comes, at which point she stops thinking about herself entirely and simply does what is necessary reminds me, in my most honest moments, so much of myself. When she doesn’t care one whit about what people think about her, but panics over the thought of disappointing her husband or damaging his reputation? Oh yes, all me. Yet she always, always rises to the occasion, which is not so much me but what I want to be.

Curiously enough, though, the man I married is more a James than a Thomas … but that’s a topic for another post!

Tuppence Beresford (Agatha Christie):

Thanks to my mother, I began my love affair with Christie’s books at age twelve. Poirot, naturally, was my favorite at first … until I met Tommy and Tuppence.

Dear, terrier-like Tuppence, with her good instincts and plans that should never work yet somehow always do? She delights me. As detectives go, Miss Marple is now probably my favorite of all time, yet Tuppence still remains one of my favorite heroines, simply for her outlook on life. And I love the fact that she and Tommy look upon their marriage as a great adventure, and a joint partnership. That’s the kind of mentality Carl and I have always tried to have for our marriage!

Lucy Pevensie (Tarkheena Aravis and Jill Pole) (CS Lewis):

I could not – could not – just pick one favorite from Narnia! I know many people don’t think Lewis was very fair in his treatment of women in Narnia, but these three have been examples of bravery, spunk, determination, faith, and strength since I was a very little girl. Valiant and loving Lucy, wood-wise and independent Jill, fearless and honest Aravis … Lucy follows her heart when no one else believes; Jill travels through bleak lands to rescue a prince and fights by the side of a king; Aravis leaves privilege, comfort, and everything she knows for a life of freedom. I would be proud to call any of these three strong girls friend!

Whew! This turned out to be longer than I expected … and I’m sure, as soon as I hit “publish,” I’ll think of more I should have added. Oh well!

Next up with be my top twelve favorite literary heroes. Ooh …

Did your favorite heroines make the list? Who would you have included that I didn’t? Who would you have left off? Opinions welcome, the stronger the better!