Since all that ys in question ys out of their bookes....

The last few months have been rather chaotic -- personally and professionally, and it is possible that the less said about them the better. On to better things this year, it can only be hoped, starting with access to a new archive which will hopefully help with style and content both of legal documents and of letter-writing when not intended for the public eye.

There is a great deal of difference between a letter written in the full knowledge and confidence that it will only be seen by its intended recipient, and ones which the writer knows may well be read by many eyes before it reaches its destination -- it gives a sense of dislocation and distance between two parties at times that I suspect is not only caused by physical separation, but a disparity in perception of the world around them.

In many ways, it is sadder to read the more formal letters, the ones that speak of being content in honour, of the glory of the moment, of the firmness of the writer's faith, than it is to read the more homely, loving ones that look forward to seeing the recipient again, and are filled with small news of home. The world has changed beneath the letters as they pass, and even if survival comes, there is now an almost insuperable chasm between what has been written in hope and thought in private.

It is frightening to realise that while I craft characters from history, history crafted men and women into characters they might never have been intended to become.

A sobering thought, and a good one to remember.

When good research...

...does not so much go bad as become interminable. Defending Walls is enduring the wait for the galleys, which is unnerving at the best of times, while the research needed for the third book seems to be a self-seeding process. The more that is done, the more details are uncovered that need to be at least known if not covered in depth. It never ceases to astonish me how much work is needed to verify a throwaway comment by an extremely secondary character.

Fascinating though it all is, the slow speed of the process never fails to be somewhat alarming - two weeks researching produces less than 500 words at times.

(And then of course the Dread Editor will doubtlessly demand their removal, but I choose not to think about this.)

A happier thought is that the galleys and proofing and rechecking may - may - be in time for a Christmas release. Which would be an astounding thing all on its own...

Research, research, research

Because naturally, I have nothing better to do with my time than check the precise date when a document which is largely fictional may or may not have been legitimately written. And although I understand the importance of validation, I do sometimes wish that once something has been fictionalised, it could stay like that.

An editor contented in his private life is a very dangerous man indeed...

I can, however, quite 'legitimately' say that my editor is making certain that one book (possibly a murder mystery) written in the not-so-distant future will certainly have a character, if not a title, which can be summed up by 'Annoyed Writer'.