by Molly Owen | Nov 8, 2011 | Blog, Cynthia Owens
Every writer knows how important research is, but in a historical novel, next to the hero and heroine, research is the story. Sure, it’s important that the protagonists fall in love and eventually reach the happily-ever-after, but how they do it, and where and when, is just as important.
Some of us are lucky enough to live in or be able to visit the chosen setting of their stories, but if you can’t, how do make the setting real? Research, of course!
(more…)
by Molly Owen | Jul 8, 2011 | Blog, Cynthia Owens
By Cynthia Owens
As a writer, words are the tools of my trade. Putting them together properly is important to me. And as a parent, I want to hear my kids speak properly, without any of the grammar errors so prevalent in the vocabulary of today’s teenagers.
So here are ten simple grammatical errors that are like fingernails on a chalkboard to me.
- Lie/lay: You lay your book down and lie down for a nap.
- Had/would have: If I had known about this, I would have been angry.
- Of: That was not so great a story – not so great of a story. The of is completely unnecessary to the sentence.
- Less/fewer: I have fewer problems with less money.
- Would have, not would of: I would have gone to the party if I’d known my friends would be there.
- Went/gone: If I had gone (not went) to the party, I’d have seen them.
- Its/it’s: Its is possessive, it’s means it is.
- Their/there/they’re: Their is possessive, there is a place, and they’re is a contraction meaning they are.
- Saw/seen: Few things great more than hearing a person said I seen instead of I saw.
- Your/you’re: Again, your is possessive, while you’re means you are.
Bonus #1: Could care less/couldn’t care less: Could care less means you care greatly, couldn’t care less means you’re indifferent.
Bonus #2: Good/well. When someone asks how your new manuscript is going, tell them it’s going well, not good. A family story that still makes me laugh – 15 years later – is that when I was in labor with my daughter, my husband told me I was doing good. Between panting and blowing, I snapped, “That’s doing well!”
Perhaps that’s why that same child, my daughter, coined the phrase, “Grammarific” when talking about me!
Happy writing!
by Molly Owen | Jun 8, 2011 | Blog, Cynthia Owens
Cavan Callaghan, the hero of my recent release from Highland Press, Coming Home, is a veteran of the Irish Brigade who fought bravely at Antietam. I’ve always found the Irish Brigade fascinating because it was comprised of immigrants who fought for a country that offered them refuge from famine and tyranny. There’s too much history to put it all into one blog post, so I’ve pulled together some fun facts about the Irish Brigade.
Over 150,000 Irishmen fought in the American Civil War (1861-1865), accounting for one in sixteen of the combatants.
The famous phrase “War is Hell” is attributed to the Cavan-born American Civil War General Phil Sheridan.
One of the oddest military escapades in history took place in 1866 when Irish Fenians, veterans of the U.S. Civil War, invaded Canada with the intention of holding the entire country (all four million square miles of it) hostage to exchange for the freedom of Ireland.
The Irish Brigade never lost a flag in battle. One motto of the Brigade is “47 times to the line of battle and never a flag to lose”. Losing the unit flag was a major disgrace in that era
At Fredricksburg, the heroic charge of the Irish Brigade so impressed Confederate General George Pickett that he wrote home, “Why, my darling, we forgot they were fighting us, and cheer after cheer at their fearlessness went up all along our lines.”
The idea of an Irish Brigade was not a new one. Irish units fought under many foreign flags, including that of Spain and Mexico.
From Coming Home:
“Tell me about the battle.”
A cold shudder shot through him, and all of a sudden he was back on that battlefield, guns pounding, horses and men screaming, his friends and comrades falling all around him. But what had really terrified him was knowing that somewhere on that battlefield, his little brother was alone and unprotected…
…”The battle was total confusion.” He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on Ashleen’s nearness in an effort to tell the story without breaking down. “It was hot — so hot — and humid, though it was already September.” He paused, the poignant memory knifing through him. “At home, the leaves would have started to turn, and frost would have been dusting the fields.”
And the stench of death had been in the air. So different from the smells of crisp northern breezes and freshly baled hay he’d been used to.
“We came up to the top of the ridge. We were to pause at the crest of the hill and fire two volleys, then rush the Rebs with bayonets. They were waiting for us – troops from North Carolina. There was a huge sound, like a thunderclap. Gunfire. Lots of it.”
by Molly Owen | May 8, 2011 | Blog, Cynthia Owens
No, it’s not a belated St. Patrick’s Day parade, or even a ceilidh given by a local branch of the Irish Society. The Fenian invasion of Canada actually happened, and it was one factor that contributed to the Confederation of Canada in 1867.
The famine of the min-Nineteenth Century decimated the population of Ireland. Many fled to America, where anti-English sentiments (and Fenian beliefs) ran high. The Fenians believed that English might be turned away from Ireland if one of their colonies was threatened. So, in 1865, they threatened to invade Canada, then known as “British North America.” The threats were taken seriously on both sides of the border, where troops were massed and ready for action.
In April of 1866, a group of Fenians gathered at Campobello Island, New Brunswick, but withdrew in the face of the Canadian Militia, British warships, and American authorities. A month later, about 800 Fenians crossed the Niagara River into Canada, occupying Fort Erie and cutting telegraph lines. The Buffalo and Lake Huron railroads were also severed before the Fenians proceeded inland. Again, the Canadian Militia countered the attack.
In June, the Fenians drove the Canadians back at Ridgeway, Ontario, and suffered many casualties. At Fort Erie, they took on another Canadian Militia and forced them back. The main Canadian forces entered Fort Erie, but the Fenians had already escaped back across the border to the U.S., where they were given a hero’s welcome. Later that same month, about 1000 Fenians crossed the Canadian border and occupied Pigeon Hill in Missisquoi County, Quebec. They plundered St. Armand and Frelighsburg, but retreated to the U.S. when the American authorities seized their supplies at St. Alban’s.
Thus ended the Fenian invasion of Canada.
Although the raids failed to end British rule in North America or Ireland, they did have serious historical consequences. Canadian nationalism was promoted by the raids, and the fear of American invasion united Upper and Lower Canada in common defense. A few months later, the the provinces came together under the British North America Act of 1867 (also known as Canadian Confederation).
In my new Irish-set historical romance novel, Coming Home, the Fenian invasion plays a minor part in my hero, Cavan Callaghan’s effort to convince his friend that another Irish war with the British will not succeed. It’s a minor plot point, but I think it makes the story that much more relevant.
Of course Cavan had heard of the Fenians, a loosely organized group of Irishmen dedicated to freeing Ireland from British rule.There’d been plenty of Irishmen in New York who’d spouted such ideas. They’d even attempted to invade Canada, planning to hold the country in ransom for Ireland’s freedom, but had been thwarted by the union of Upper and Lower Canada just this year.
Was Brian McDevitt a Fenian?
The union of Upper and Lower Canada may have destroyed that country’s usefulness as “ransom,” but the cause of Irish freedom lived on.
Buy Coming Home at Amazon
Buy Coming Home at Barnes & Noble
by Molly Owen | Apr 8, 2011 | Blog, Cynthia Owens
Post-traumatic stress disorder. It’s a timely subject, considering how many young men and women are serving in the military all over the world today. But what of the men who fought during one of the bloodiest conflicts of the time, a war that pitted brother against brother, father against son?
What of the American Civil War? Surely the suicidal frontal assaults, troops marching forward in formation to be decimated by rifle and artillery fire, battlefields littered with the dead and dying, must have had a horrific effect on those soldiers. Yet surprisingly little has been written on the subject.
Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a psychological syndrome which results when a person is exposed to a traumatic event such as warfare. Although PTSD only really emerged as a psychiatric diagnosis in the 1970s, it’s clear that veterans of the Civil War also suffered from it. Its symptoms include anxiety, a dread of calamity, depression, flashbacks and nightmares; emotional numbing or apathy. PTSD can include social pathologies, as well, including suicide, drug or alcohol abuse, and domestic violence.
One study states that among the typical symptoms of PTSD in Civil War soldiers, the most common is fear, specifically the fear of being killed. This fear would often lead to a man barricading himself in his house, often at night, and stay up watching and waiting for the imagined foe to appear. Others would keep weapons at their side at all times, and sometimes sleep with an axe or other such weapon under their beds. The usual treatment of the day was heavy doses of sedatives to keep them calm.

In
Coming Home, my new release from
Highland Press, my hero, Cavan Callaghan, is a veteran of Thomas Francis Meagher’s Irish Brigade who fought at Antietam. He’d lost a lot even before joining up, and I knew he couldn’t have come through that bloody conflict without at least a few scars. But I decided to make his scars the internal, rather than the external type. Cavan’s PTSD manifests itself in an extreme possessiveness of those he loves, even as he tries to deny the extent to which he cares for them. He’s sure my heroine, Ashleen, will eventually betray him. And he’s pursued by the fear that the fragile happiness he’s discovered in Ireland will be snatched away
“The more things change, the more they stay the same…”
~ Alphonse Karr, 1808-1890
Here’s an excerpt from Coming Home:
The Atlantic Ocean, 1867
He was going home.
Home. Such a simple word. And for so long now, such an unattainable dream.
Yet as he stood on the deck of the Mary O’Connor, he thought maybe he’d finally find a real home once again.
When Johnny comes marching home again . . .
He looked seaward. The salt wind tugged at his hair. Spray stung his eyes. Gulls wheeled and shrieked overhead. Open water lay beyond the horizon, and beyond that still, his new life. In a few weeks, the Mary O’Connor would dock in Galway Bay, and from there he’d head for the small village his parents had spoken of with such love. He felt a stirring of emotion, the first spark of excitement since—
Deliberately he cut off the thought. He was no longer a soldier. There would be no more Rebel yells, no more guns, no more battles. He was no longer Captain Callaghan, so-called hero of the Irish Brigade.
He was just plain Cavan Callaghan, an Irishman searching for peace.
What would Ireland be like? For as long as he could remember, he’d heard his parents speak wistfully of the country they’d left behind. The green fields and sea-swept coast. The heather-strewn countryside filled with wild strawberries and prickly gorse. They’d spoken of the people, too, but especially of his father’s brother.
The last of the Flynns now, except for himself.
His mother had said the village of Ballycashel lay some nine miles from Galway City. What would he find there? He knew about the Hunger, of course. Had any of his family survived?
Or would he find the same devastation he’d confronted on his return from the war?
A ripple of sound floating on the briny breeze told him he wasn’t alone. Recognizing the delicate notes of a penny whistle, he glanced around. One of his fellow passengers, obviously an Irishman, lowered the instrument from his lips and smiled, his foot tapping in jig time.
The piper began playing anew, and a raw slash of anguish ripped through Cavan’s gut. He knew the words well, and the tune the man played so effortlessly and with such emotion.
He’d prayed never to hear them again.
The minstrel boy to the war has gone,
In the ranks of death you’ll find him . . .
He squeezed his eyes shut, the ‘ranks of death’ marching through his memory. So many friends, his comrades-in-arms, who would never return . . .
His brother.
With a hard shake of his head, he strode away from the haunting melody.
He was going home. And there he would find peace.
There would be no more war.
by Molly Owen | Oct 16, 2010 | Blog, Cynthia Owens
Seduced By History Welcomes Guess Blogger, Lisbeth Eng, author of In The Arms of the Enemy.
Nothing can jolt a reader out of the “zone” of your novel faster than an egregious error in the text. Such blunders by an author are more likely to be found in historical fiction, where accuracy in both era and locale is crucial.
I was on an airplane about a year ago, reading a World War II novel, when I suddenly uttered, “He’s not dead!” (Fortunately, the stranger sitting next to me slept through my outcry.) A character in this book had stated that Mussolini was dead. The book takes place in 1943 and I knew that Il Duce did not meet his demise until 1945. Perhaps the character intentionally misspoke, in an effort to deceive, or the author wished to demonstrate his (the character’s) ignorance. I continued reading the otherwise well-written novel, awaiting an explanation. It never came. Even more infuriating was my realization by the end that Mussolini’s presence, whether alive or dead, had no impact on the plot, so the erroneous reference was completely unnecessary. I did enjoy the novel overall, but have never forgotten that incident and it would make me just a little less likely to read another by that author.
The research for my Italian-set World War II romance novel In the Arms of the Enemy came from various sources. I had visited Italy over twenty years prior to starting my first draft, and had the good fortune to visit that country again while in the midst of an early revision. My journey in 2002 contributed the following details, which I would not otherwise have thought to include:
Shivering, she hastened toward the piazza, passing rows of houses painted in muted shades of saffron, wheat and terracotta. Some were adorned with the remnants of faded frescos; others revealed exposed brick beneath crumbling plaster façades. When she reached the deserted marketplace, her only companions were pigeons, huddled in niches where stones had fallen away from ancient walls. Their soft cooing, like lovers’ whispers, penetrated the early morning silence.
Had I not visited Verona, the setting of my novel, and had the opportunity to hear the cooing doves and see the faded frescos, that description would not likely be included in my book. Of course, not every writer has the opportunity to visit a foreign locale and we certainly can’t travel back in time to experience the actual historical setting. But one can read non-fiction, as well as fiction books on the subject and surf the Internet for ideas (but beware the source – there is a lot of false information out there in cyberspace).
If I hadn’t been able to travel to Italy, a visit to the European paintings section of the Metropolitan Museum of Art could have been a great source of inspiration for my setting. I possess an entire library of books about World War II, as well as Italian and German dictionaries and grammar books to double-check the foreign words and phrases I have sprinkled throughout In the Arms of the Enemy. But a word of caution there, too – don’t count on your cousin who studied a foreign language in college or the Google translation tool. If you’re going to use foreign words or phrases try to find a native speaker to make certain you are using them correctly. I’ve found cringe-worthy foreign language errors even in novels published by traditional houses.

On the other hand, careful research can enhance the enjoyment of the reader. I recently read Hope Tarr’s wonderful
My Lord Jack, which takes place in 18th century Scotland. Not only are Hope’s characters enchanting and her storyline intriguing, her meticulous research is clearly evident. She captures the time and place and even more interestingly, the intricacies of her hero’s rather unusual (for a romance novel) occupation. Jack is a hangman, and Hope has evidently done quite a bit of research on that particular trade. (I know this because Hope wrote an entire blog post on
Word Wenches about it.)
It may seem unlikely that your reader will notice a small mistake in historical fact or in a foreign phrase but many readers are knowledgeable, and chances are your historical romance reader knows her period – be it Regency, Medieval or World War II. And she may have studied a foreign language or two. So, as they say in German, “Achtung!”
BIO: An English major in college, Lisbeth Eng has also studied Italian, German and French. Lisbeth is a native New Yorker and has worked as a registered representative in the finance industry for the past 25 years. Her first novel, In the Arms of the Enemy, is available in e-book and paperback at The Wild Rose Press. Lisbeth invites you to visit her at www.lisbetheng.com.