Interview – Labayu

Cover - The Flame Before Us
Cover – The Flame Before Us

Here is the next in the series of character studies from The Flame Before Us, presented in the form of interviews.

Today’s interview is with Labayu, a Kinahny man who grew up in Kephrath, but until recently was living among the northern tribes of the Ibriym, in the Galil region. He has recently moved back to Giybon, largest of the Four Towns.


I had been directed to one of the houses in Giybon, but Labayu was not at home. His wife, Ashtartiy, makes me welcome with mint tea and some raisins, and then settles me outside. The corner of the house shades me from the afternoon sun, and a spreading rose curls above the door lintel. Ashtartiy’s mother is inside, and two children, but it is clear that I am not to join them. Domestic conversation floats intermittently out of the door, and I drift on an autumnal reverie.

Finally I see Labayu approaching from the town gate. He strides up to me, welcomes me enthusiastically, and sits beside me. One of the children runs out to hug him, watching me covertly before dashing in again.

“Have you been here long, sir? I was setting snares along the ridge north from here and forgot the time.”

“Not long, and I have been made welcome.” I remember just in time that in his tradition, the house belongs to Ashtartiy rather than him. “Your lady wife has shown me the hospitality of her home. I was not sure if I would find you here. They told me in Shalem that you were often away from the town for weeks on end.”

“Not so much just now. Until early this year I was living north of here, in Ramath-Galil, west of Kinreth. I led a band of men who protected the northern borders of the Land. The Sons of Anath, they called us.”

“Your family were there as well?”

He nods.

“But Ashtartiy hated it. The Ibriym tribes up there have no respect for our customs, and refused to give her honour as mother of the house. As soon as we heard the first rumours of trouble she came back here to her mother’s house. I persevered and stayed longer, but now here I am, as you see.”

“The trouble you mention: that was when the Sherden and their fighting cousins first came into the land?”

“No, no, it was before then. The king of Hatsor heard news of their approach before we did, and set out to scour the land for men to force into his army. Little good it did him, though, for the newcomers swept his troops away with all the rest. But Ashtartiy left at that early stage, in case I needed to escape in haste out into the wilderness.”

He paused, thinking back. Keen to keep the conversation going, I rush on.

“But when these newcomers arrived you were away from that village, I hear.”

“Yes indeed. The headman, Pedayah was his name, he led his people south to avoid the fight. I stayed there to scout what was happening. And because Abiy’el, the warleader of the Ibriym at that time, he wanted me to see if a covenant treaty might be cut. We had no idea who they were, you see, and we had no idea that they were made up of different tribes themselves.”

“Were you able to make peace?”

“Not then. Not ever, with some of their tribes. But we came to an agreement with the Sherden, after a while.”

He pauses, apparently wondering if he should continue, and then rushes on.

“I was the one who was first able to come to peace with them. It was in Shalem. I had pursued a small group of them there with a handful of my men, thinking that they were the enemy. But the people I met wanted peace, and a place to settle quietly on the other side of the River. I spoke with them, and realised that we could find common ground with them. But as for their distant cousins, who fought the Mitsriy along the Sea Road and settled on the coastal plain: with them I fear there will always be hostility.”

“At the village cistern they told me that your men did not all agree with this treaty.”

“They did not. That covenant cost me the friendship of a man I had known all my life. Shimmigar, he was called. He could not forgive these newcomers for an act of cruelty, and he will not accept that they are not all alike. He has not spoken to me since the day we cut the covenant with the Sherden. He stayed in the north of the land, to carry on the fight. I hope he still lives.”

He falls silent for a while, and his face shows the grief of the broken companionship. I let him reminisce for a while before I speak again.

“Tell me of the Sons of Anath.”

“Oh yes. It was Abiy’el’s idea in the first place. He wanted a band of hunters who would protect his people on the fringes of their settled land. North, south and west towards the sea. Not so much east, as many of his kindred still live there. But so few of the Ibriym had any of the necessary talents to fulfil such a task, and so it fell mostly to Kinahny men who were their allies. He called this band the Sons of Anath, so that we would feel that it was our heritage as well as his. I was a hunter and trapper, and my father before me, and he chose me to lead the men in the north.”

“But here you are back in Giybon.”

He grins, and waves a hand at one of the passing village men.

“And very glad to be here. Ashtartiy grew to hate Ramath-Galil quicker than I, but I was not far behind her. It is no place for a man or woman raised in the Four Towns. But that aside, the Sons of Anath had been Abiy’el’s idea, as I said. Now that he has lost his place as warleader, the Ibriym do not know whether to keep the tradition alive or not. Some say one thing and some another, and until they are of one mind I have returned to my traps and snares. And the home of my wife, which I came to miss very greatly in that time out in the wilderness.”

“Would you do it again, if they asked you?”

He pauses for a long time. His two children bring us each another beaker of mint tea. The sun slips down towards the wooded ridges. I look around, knowing that Shalem is away in the distance ahead of me, but unable to see any part of it.

“I maintain my friendship with the Sherden, you know. It was Towanos who first spoke with me, that day in Shalem. I had gone to that room all ready to be their enemy, and to arouse the king of Shalem against them. My heart was changed there by all that I saw and heard. Towanos was the first of the Sherden to take the time to speak with me. We found that we shared a great deal in common.”

We fall silent again. Finally he returns to my question.

“I think not. I was willing to try it for Abiy’el, because I respected him. And he respected us. But the Ibriym cannot agree amongst themselves just now, and I do not know who will emerge as their warleader. We are their covenant allies, and at need we will fight beside them. But just now, I do not think that I would go out into the wilderness again as I did before. My place is here, I think.”

“So these last few months have changed you?”

“Beyond measure. Beyond anything that I imagined at the time. When I was roaming in the north of the land, looking for these strangers who seemed to be invading our land, then when I was rushing south to find Abiy’el and saw the tents and camps of the Ibriym who had fled their homes, something changed for me. There was one night when we saw the signs of a town on fire, my men and I. It was near to Shalem; we feared it might be our homes here in the Four Towns. In fact it was a small village of Shalem, set alight by desperate Ibriym men, and nothing to do with the newcomers. But after that night I decided that I would not leave my home town again except for the most severe need.”

He glances in to where Ashtartiy had come to the door to watch the two of us.

“I am content here, in a way that I never was before. But see, my wife has finished preparing our meal. You will join us, I hope?”

We get up and go inside the house, ducking under the limbs of the rose, heavy with the season’s hips.


This is the last of the current series of interviews – later in the year I hope to do some more with other characters.

Amazon Countdown Deals

Cover - The Flame Before Us
Cover – The Flame Before Us

I am running an Amazon ‘Countdown’ deal on both The Flame Before Us and Scenes from a Life!

The deal is available on both books from Saturday August 8th up until Thursday August 13th, at whatever time of day Amazon sees fit.

Cover - Scenes from a Life
Cover – Scenes from a Life

In both cases the price starts at £0.99 or $0.99 and increases up to the normal price of £2.39 or $3.25 in increments.

As you would expect, you need to buy earlier in the time period in order to get the books at a cheaper rate.

Meanwhile, if you have enjoyed the series of character interviews (which is not yet finished) then you can have your very own kindle or epub versions, available as free downloads from https://leanpub.com/book_search?search=richard+abbott. I will be uploading the mobi and epub versions to other sites in time – for the moment leanpub is the only place they are available.

Interview – Hekanefer

Cover - The Flame Before Us
Cover – The Flame Before Us

Here is the next in the series of character studies from The Flame Before Us, presented in the form of interviews.

Today’s interview is with Hekanefer, formerly a Mitsriy scribe attached to a military unit stationed in Gedjet and part of the army responsible for defending the province. He is now living in Shalem.


I find his house amongst a maze of similar ones, in a street close beside the city wall. He has just arrived there at the end of the day. His hands are spotted with inks of various colours, and after inviting me in he disappears briefly to wash his hands. I look round while waiting for him. The tools of his trade are arranged neatly on a table, topped by a bundle of pens and brushes tied with cord.

He comes back into the room with two beakers of beer and passes me one.

“My thanks for your hospitality.”

“The pleasure is mine, and you honour my house by your visit.”

We both drink. “Is the beer to your liking?”

“It is very good. Your own brew?”

“Surely not. I have no skill at that. My brother Ramose brought it from the Beloved Land recently. I have learned to enjoy the wine of this land, as I cannot usually get good beer. This is now only a rare treat.”

“Your parents sent it?”

“Oh no.” He laughs shortly. “Ramose acquired it somewhere in the sedge lands on his journey here. Neither of my parents has spoken to me since I decided to stay in this province, and broke off the marriage promise they had made for me when I was a youth. Look.”

He points to an irregular scrap of papyrus which he has attached to a wall. There is a very short line of writing near the top, too small to read at this distance.

“They were outraged at my decision. If I do not submit to their will and return by the end of the year, they will deny that I am their son.”

“And will you go?”

“No. Too much is happening here. I will not go back there.”

He stands up again and prowls around the room, full of energy.

“I have joined a group of craftsmen here in the city. Another Mitsriy man leads us. We support each other, train one another with new skills, commend our colleagues’ work to attract new patrons. It is good. It is what my people should be doing all across this land.”

He sits again, leaning in close to me to impress his meaning.

“Look now, take the field of war as example. I was with our soldiers, you know. Our chariots – the best men in our detail, chosen for their skill – were defeated by a gang of youths with javelins. It was the end of a way of life. Now, our great king took the lesson into his heart, and he ordered us to learn to fight in the new way. Do you follow?”

I nod, drawn in to the tale by his intensity.

“When we learned to fight like that, we started to find victory. But some of the men shrank back. They preferred to keep to the old ways and die, rather than reach for the new ways and live.”

He sits back, and his voice returns to its original measured tones.

“Well, my parents still cling to the old ways. They would have me hide away beside the River, marry a dull girl for some minor social advantage, and be head scribe for a local farmer, recording weights of crops and the punishment of slaves. I would have none of that.”

I knew a little of his background already.

“So you left your position as army scribe and settled here in Shalem.”

“I resigned on the day we heard of the battle along the coastal plain between my people and these newcomers. But it was not the battle that persuaded me: it was the treaty settlement which did that. We were abandoning the province, in all but name. My people should be out here, leading and inspiring the lands around, not shrinking back behind the Reeds and waiting to see what happens.”

“Are you happy here?” I gesture around the little house and its contents. “With your work? Your life?”

He gets up again and shows me a sheaf of partially finished items. There is a mixture of papyrus, wood, and clay, and a quick glance shows me that his writing spans several different formal styles.

“My work is appreciated. I am commissioned by the great ones of this city and the towns around – they call them daughter towns out here. My skills are in demand.”

“Tell me what you do?”

He pulls out one after another of the items as he replies.

“This is the written form of an oath granting title to land. This is a route itinerary going from Shalem to the holy mountain Tsaphon. Here, I am particularly proud of this one: it is the family record of one of the noble houses of the city, counting back eight generations and telling the tale of each. You will see that most of these items are written in the Kinahny signs. From time to time I still use the true writing, but not very often now.”

As he sips at his beer, I decide to chance the question.

“And your personal life? Now that you have broken off your family’s arrangement.”

He laughs.

“There is a man and wife who fled from Ikaret, who have a daughter. She is pleasant enough, but the parents make it very difficult for me to be familiar with her. And they insist on delaying matters beyond all reason. She and I have been very secretive, and I am fortunate that she was angry with her parents.”

He waves a hand dismissively.

“Some event or other on their journey here: I do not know the details. I treat the affair as a game; otherwise I would have abandoned the pursuit long since. In any case, this is a city, and I was with soldiers when I first arrived. There are other ways to find entertainment.”

He replaces the work in progress on its table and arranges the pots of ink in a neat row, colour by colour.

“This life is exhilarating. My heart is content with all that has happened. This time last year I lived in a narrow place, with the rest of my life planned out. All that has changed. I cannot imagine going back to the Beloved Land for many years yet.”

He pours us both another beaker of beer, and he tells me of his home, far away in another land. For all his bold words, the awareness of loss hovers always in the background.


Next time, the interview will be with Labayu, a Kinahny man from Kephrath who was living in the north of the land as the invaders approach.

Interview – Nikleos and Kastiandra

Cover - The Flame Before Us
Cover – The Flame Before Us

Here is the next in the series of character studies from The Flame Before Us, presented in the form of interviews.

Today’s interview is with Nikleos and Kastiandra, members of the Sherden tribe and now living just outside the village of Yabesh, east of the river that forms the boundary of the Kinahny province. I arrive in the late morning of a festival day. I am directed to their home by a lad who is watching a group of cattle grazing in the fields down beside a stream.


The house is made of rough-cut wood with a few courses of stone at ground level. A wagon, dismounted from its wheels, is built into one side. Nikleos, sharpening some tools outside, sees me approach. He calls back into the house, and welcomes me in.

Kastiandra is already sitting on a stool beside a table, with a very pregnant Kinahny woman standing behind her. Alone among the women I have seen in the camp, she wears a kef, a Kinahny headscarf, and her hair is braided into tails underneath it. Forewarned about their customs, I ignore the women and sit where Nikleos indicates.

“My thanks for your hospitality on this feast day.”

“It is one of the festivals of the land we now live in. We are scrupulous about keeping them, so that both the people here and the land itself will accept us.”

“Your own customs must be very different?”

“Oh yes. There was no celebration for this season in the home of my fathers. I am learning to acknowledge new holy days and the gods who are honoured by them.”

“I am told that you make festival in your own way, though.”

“Oh yes.” He laughs, a great booming noise which fills the little room. “I will honour the spirits of this land, and I will respect their proper days, but I will do so with my own hands and my own heart. I negotiate, but I do not submit.”

I had already heard from others how they would celebrate later in the day – martial games of various kinds in the evening, as the light faded, would give way to music, song, and riddle contests. They practiced at aggression and competitiveness in the common land between their houses, in order to keep ready for the field of war.

“And how have you learned the ways of the land?”

“From my son’s wife, for the most part.” He gestures to the Kinahny woman. “Come forward, Dantiy, and speak for yourself.”

She comes and stands at his side, making sure to position herself very slightly behind him.

“This girl took the heart of my son. Took him right away from the daughters of the clan itself, and came into my wagon to be his bride. Her brother negotiated the terms of the arrangement with me. And look at her now. My wife tells me that there is only a single child in her, but she is big enough for twins. It will be a boy, for sure.”

He rubs his hand over her rounded belly in a possessive manner. Dantiy kisses the top of his head and addresses me directly.

“My brother and I took refuge with the Sherden when we fled from Ikaret. They gave us a home and a place of respect: how should we not share all that we know with them?”

My curiosity was aroused.

“But Ikaret was burned by clans which are like cousins to the Sherden. Has this not been difficult for you?”

“Not for me. Nor my brother. The Sherden are not like some of the other clans. And Yasib and I took our personal revenge by killing the Peleset man who led his tribe to Ikaret.”

Nikleos nods vigorously.

“That was a good fight, and a satisfying end for us all.”

Dantiy smiles, full of her own satisfaction, and I shiver inwardly at the ferocity of her maternal features.

Kastiandra leans forward and looks at Nikleos, waiting until he gives permission to speak.

“That was just after we nearly lost Dekseus. He was in one of the raiding parties, at the time when the Mitsriy learned how to defeat us. The severity of that loss turned the clan aside from war, to look for peace here in the land. My son barely escaped with his life, and many of the other women were grieving that day. We halted at that place and burned many of their bodies. But Dekseus lives, and his child will be among us in a few weeks.”

She looks across at a hawk icon, perched on a stand opposite the door, and makes a gesture of supplication.

“And if you could live through those months again, would you do anything different?”

“I would have trusted Dantiy and Yasib sooner. Perhaps then I would already be holding a grandchild in my arms.”

Dantiy smiles, shakes her head a little, and moves back again to stand beside Kastiandra.

Nikleos laughs again.

“I would change nothing.”


Next time, the interview will be with Hekanefer, a Mitsriy scribe attached to one of the military units charged with defending the province.

Interview – Tadugari and Anilat

Cover - The Flame Before Us
Cover – The Flame Before Us

I thought for my little series of character studies from The Flame Before Us that I would use the interview form. It’s a bit of fun, and something of a departure for me, so let’s see how it works out.

Today’s interview is with Tadugari and Anilat, formerly of Ikaret. It is a warm autumn evening in Shalem, shortly after the Feast of New Wine. They have been living in the city for around half a year. We are relaxing under the shade of some fruit trees, looking west. Nearby, several slaves are gathering fruit, and tending a large bread oven built on to the outside of the house.


Anilat gestures to an open straw basket of flatbread and a pottery juglet of olive oil.

“You must try some, sir. On that long weary journey from Ikaret I craved bread like this.”

I take a piece, so as not to insult my hosts.

“Your life must be very different now.”

They look at each other, and Tadugari answers.

“I am still not accustomed to it, sir. In Ikaret I attended the king every day. The great and the noble of the city came to my house, and in the audience chamber I mediated great decisions and agreements.”

Anilat laughs and rests her hand on his.

“And spied on their secret words when they thought themselves alone in a corner.”

“That too. How else could we negotiate such favourable terms?”

A look of grief crosses his face, and his hands clench. She leans forward, anxious and attentive, obviously keen to avert some habitual emotional plunge.

“Those days will come again, husband. Why, even today you were telling me about the border dispute south of Ayn Shams which you resolved. The king of the city here knows your name, and he has given you a position of trust among his own great ones.”

She turns to me.

“The king’s minister, Abdi-Teshup, is an old friend of my husband’s. On the same day that we arrived he remembered his friendship, and made sure that we had a place to live.”

She gestures around her, at the house and the garden. He snorts.

“How well I know it. Everything we have is his.”

“Not so, husband. It was his provision on that first day for sure, but you have since earned it many times over.”

He nods, his features relaxing again and his voice reverting to its normal measured tones. He stands and looks north.

“But we are exiles, Anilat. You, who are my sweetest love, must live forever in the wilderness and never go back to the verdant plain of Ikaret, nor see the great sweep of the bay that washes it.”

She shrugs, her gaze still on him.

“This is good enough for me. Much better this than to be caught up in the ruin of the city.” She turns back to me. “We both lost so many people who were dear to us in that ruin. Friends and family alike. I consider us fortunate to have escaped with our own children alive.”

He sits again and eyes me shrewdly.

“On good days I look for my former home to rise from the ashes and be restored to greatness. On bad days I think it will never live again, and that the great ships will never drift again into the bay, nor dock at the harbour. It is as my wife says: our home is here, as exiles, needing each day to prove our worth to this city.”

I try to think of a subject that might be less controversial.

“Have your children learned the ways of this city?”

“My daughter, Haleyna, she is pleased with the move.” She looks across at the house. “A Mitsriy scribe, a man we met on that first day here, keeps visiting us. He wants a pledge of marriage, but we have not yet decided. Of course we supervise him: many of the Mitsriy cannot be trusted, and I do not know him well enough to be sure.”

“We already had agreed a lad of Ikaret for her, these last five or six years. But we are almost certain he did not survive. We will wait until the winter for news of him, and we will make this scribe wait for our decision until then. My two sons are being taught war by one of the king’s generals. War has changed since I learned, and the old ways failed us at the city walls. I will have them trained in the new ways.”

“If you had these last few months all over again, what would you do differently?”

He looks down at the table and his voice quavers.

“I would have remained firm of heart for Anilat and my children, instead of losing myself in despair. Or if I could not do that, I would have stayed in the city to die. What came over me was worse than death, and I brought us all so close to ruin before I recovered myself.”

“I would never have let my daughter know that I learned how to kill her.”

I must have looked surprised at the starkness of their answers. Anilat took a deep breath. Tadugari remained silent.

“I thought, just as my husband thought, that death would be better than capture and dishonour. My error was in allowing Haleyna to know of my plan. It should have been my own burden, and I made her share it as well.”

She takes his hand, squeezes it.

“But we are here, all of us together. Ikaret is lost to us, but we keep something of her traditions alive in this house. The outside is that of Shalem, but the heart is Ikaret.

He nods sombrely, then pours me another drink with his own hands, waving away a slave who had approached to carry out the task. We turn to easier subjects, and they entertain me with Kinahny stories until the sky darkens and only flickering oil lamps shed light on us.


Next time – Nikleos and Kastiandra of the Sherden people.

Pluto flyby special blog!

NASA - Pluto from less than half a million miles away
NASA – Pluto from less than half a million miles away

In celebration of the NASA New Horizons spacecraft making its closest approach to Pluto today, I thought I would celebrate with a short extract from Far from the Spaceports. The action takes place in the asteroid belt which is still a very long way from Pluto but is at least en route.

Mitnash, the main character, is actually on a group of asteroids in closely linked orbits named after the Scilly Isles. He is actually there to investigate financial fraud but has a cover story of prospecting for minerals. He has just arrived on Bryher.

I looked round the room, and noticed a man’s picture through the open door.
“And is that your husband, Mrs Riley?”
She followed my gaze and nodded.
“Oh yes, Mister Mitnash, that’s Riley. He’s a miner, you know, he’s out near Jupiter somewhere just now. Comes back once a year to see us all here on Bryher.”
“Oh yes? What does he go for? I’m here to do some mining myself. Rare earths. There’s a good patch out here near the Scillies. At least, I think there is.”
She snorted.
“And who have you left back home waiting all the long hours in the night for you to get back? Still, if you doing it keeps her out of want then maybe it’s a good thing. Now Riley there, he goes out for the heavy metals. Anything heavy at all, really. He brings back huge great lumps in tow behind his ship. The Selkie, he called her.”
She laughed. “That’s what he calls me, too, his selkie, when he’s had a few jars. That he does. But it’s the metal that glamours him, not my own self, I’m thinking.”
She looked at the picture for a few moments, then sighed and glanced back at me.
“I’m also thinking you don’t look much like a miner, Mister Mitnash.”

More news regarding Far from the Spaceports will follow through the summer. Meanwhile, congratulations to the entire New Horizons team for the culmination of effort spanning well over a decade. At the time of writing, they are still waiting for the craft to come out of its radio silent mode…

New timeline events

Cover - The Flame Before Us
Cover – The Flame Before Us

Over the weekend I spent some happy moments updating the Kephrath timeline page with the events in The Flame Before Us. This proved to be a little more tricky than I had anticipated – the entire action of the book takes place in rather less than two months, so I had the problem of managing a whole lot of overlapping events.

But that is all done now so everything is up to date!

Over the next few weeks I will be doing a short study of each of the four strands contained in the book – Tadugari and Anilat from Ikaret, Nikleos and Kastiandra of the Sherden, the Mitsriy scribe Hekanefer, and Labayu, who originally comes from Kephrath but is living in the town of Ramath Galil, rather to the north of the area he knows. I’m not quite sure of the format yet but as usual there will be a blend of history and fiction!

Author interview – Suzanne Adair

Today I am welcoming Suzanne Adair to an author interview. I first came across Suzanne’s writing at the end of last year, and have been getting more familiar with it since. I have previously reviewed Hostage to Heritage and Camp Follower.

She writes about the American War of Independence, so an interview for July 4th seemed perfect!

Q. Suzanne, what first attracted you to write about the war of independence?

Suzanne Adair
Suzanne Adair

A. Thanks for inviting me to be your guest today, Richard. What fun, talking about the American War of Independence on the Fourth of July—on a Brit’s blog, of all places!

Although a number of wars have been fought on American soil, the War of Independence has always resonated the most with me. I’m fascinated with the changes in Western people’s heads during the late eighteenth century. They were exploring with telescopes and microscopes and even periscopes. The printing press made it possible for many to own books and become better educated than their forebears. Middle-class people could find leisure time. Government and religion weren’t as tightly bound as they’d been in previous centuries. And the stirrings of the women’s rights movement can be found during this period.

For over two hundred years, history scholars focused almost exclusively on the northern theater of the American War (especially New York, Pennsylvania, and Massachusetts). About fifteen years ago, they finally began researching the southern theater (the Carolinas, Virginia, Georgia, and Florida) in earnest. As new documents come to light, and field researchers shift their efforts southward, it’s changed the shape of this war. Scholars now believe that the colony having the most battles was South Carolina. My series is set in the southern theater, so I find all this quite exciting. It helps make the historical background fresh for my readers and me.

John Robertson - military actions in the War of Independence
John Robertson – military actions in the War of Independence

How has the shape of the war changed? A few years ago, my cartographer friend John Robertson (who has created the maps for most of my books) plotted each military action from the War of Independence as a yellow square on this map of the world. It’s clear that this war wasn’t confined to the northern theater. Nor was it confined to America. In fact, it looks like a world war. What do you think?

Q. As a Brit, this is a subject I knew very little about except for some anecdotal tales, such as the Boston Tea Party. It comes across in your books as a troubled and confusing time in which allegiances were uncertain and often shifted. Could you tell us a little about the background here?

A. Certainly. In wars throughout history, almost never do you find that all people in an affected civilian population give their allegiance to one of two sides. That’s the way it’s often written by the victors, and thinking of it that way makes it simpler for history students. But what you actually find is that a third to a half of the civilians are neutral. They have no strong feelings about which side should in charge as long as they can carry on with their lives.

Unfortunately when an army comes into an area, neutrals don’t fare well for the reason that they haven’t given their allegiance to either side. During the American Revolution, neutrals were often regarded with suspicion and had their belongings (livestock, crops, etc.) seized for an army’s use without compensation. They were also forced into military service and, if captured by the army’s opponent, might be forced to switch and fight for that side, all the while wondering if they’d ever see home again.

Q. You describe your writing on your web site (http://www.suzanneadair.net/) as “historical crime fiction.” What drew you into the crime/mystery side of writing? Do you see your main audience as enthusiasts of historical fiction or mysteries?

Cover - Hostage to Heritage
Cover – Hostage to Heritage

A. The solving of a fictional crime such as a murder or caper often conveys tighter structure upon a novel, and I definitely take advantage of that structure. In addition, the idea of having a protagonist solve such a crime without the benefit of modern forensics is a challenge that appeals to me.

My main audience is a blend of readers who enjoy historical fiction and historical mysteries. A few have told me that they were initially drawn to my work from the mystery angle but somewhat apprehensive about the historical element, fearing that they’d be overwhelmed by period detail. Then, after reading my books, they compliment me for weaving in the history unobtrusively and not smothering them with details. “Not at all like sitting through history class!” said one reader. (Huzzah!)

Q. You bring in to your books other cultural elements such as religious and social diversity. The period comes over as a real melting pot of personal background. Does this reflect the written sources of the age?

A. Many readers don’t have a solid foundation in history. From high school history classes, they’ve come to believe that Revolutionary America was populated almost exclusively by white Protestant Christians. What a boring place the colonies would have been to live, if true.

Fortunately, when you do the research and check the sources, you find out that there was quite a diversity of religious and cultural backgrounds found among people living in the thirteen colonies and surrounding territories. (Take a look at an essay I wrote about this amazing diversity, http://www.suzanneadair.net/2014/07/09/religious-diversity-in-america-during-the-revolution/) For example, you learn that Thomas Jefferson read the Qur’an, probably incorporating ideas from it into the Declaration of Independence, and that a Jew named Haym Solomon gave a big loan to the Congress for the war effort. Integrating this kind of background into my fiction makes my Revolutionary universe a vibrant, interesting place.

Q. Your author profile on Amazon (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Suzanne-Adair/e/B003WH8Q36/) and Goodreads (https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1188958.Suzanne_Adair) mentions that you have taken part in reenactions (just like Paula Lofting, who I interviewed in March). Which came first, the writing or the reenaction? Do you find that the two activities help each other?

Reen­ac­tors of the 33rd Light Com­pany of Foot and the British Legion at Brat­tonsville July 2002
Reen­ac­tors of the 33rd Light Com­pany of Foot and the British Legion at Brat­tonsville July 2002

A. Great question! The writing came first, but not by much. What happened was that I wrote several chapters of the first manuscript in the series and realized that I was unable to get into the head of my eighteenth-century protagonist. I wasn’t part of that culture; we were separated by two centuries. Thus I had no idea what shaped my characters’ decisions or what constituted their daily challenges.

That brought me to reenacting. The weekend events I attended recreated the history and immersed me in the social and political culture of the time. Of course, there’s nothing like living the real history. However reenacting is a sort of time machine to help me receive a good approximation of life in eighteenth-century America. As a result, my sensory impressions of that life found their way into my writing. My characters seem right for their time. Many readers say that I made them feel like they were actually there.

[Note from Richard – in fact Suzanne is taking part in a period costume reenactment on the day this goes live]

Q. I had imagined that the events you write about – so recent in comparison to my own storytelling – were quite thoroughly documented. However, your author’s notes suggest that there are large areas of uncertainty, especially for actions in the Carolinas. How easy have you found it to find sources of information to underpin your writing?

A. The ease of finding source materials depends upon what you’re seeking. Most battles are very well documented, as are the lives of the more famous and/or wealthy people. It’s also easy to find information about the big cities and larger towns as well as common trades.

Cover - Camp Follower
Cover – Camp Follower

Step outside that, though, with the goal of showing how war affected middle- or lower-class men, and especially women, and you spend a great deal more time chasing down details. Sometimes vital information has vanished into the chaos if war, and a precise answer cannot be found. And in my answer to your first question, I explained why there hasn’t, until recently, been as much documentation available for the Carolinas. While all that is often frustrating to a history scholar, it can be a boon to a historical novelist.

Q. So far as I know you have only written to date about this single historical setting. Are you planning at some point to branch out to other places and times, or are you committed to this one?

A. I’ve only been published in historical crime fiction so far. However I’ve also written a science fiction series set during the twenty-fourth century and a paranormal suspense series set during current times. Those series will be published.

Q. What is coming up later in the year for you? Are you able to share any plans? Can we expect another Michael Stoddard thriller?

A. October 2015, I expect to release Deadly Occupation (Michael Stoddard #0).

Finally, is there anything you would like to add which we have not touched on so far?

You’ve provided a purchase link to my five books on Amazon. In electronic format, they’re also available for Nook, Apple, and Kobo.

Thanks Suzanne for taking the time today to talk with me. All the best for you in the future.

Thanks again, Richard.


Bio:

Award-winning novelist Suzanne Adair is a Florida native who lives in a two hundred-year-old city at the edge of the North Carolina Piedmont named for an English explorer who was beheaded. Her suspense and thrillers transport readers to the Southern theater of the Revolutionary War, where she brings historic towns, battles, and people to life. She fuels her creativity with Revolutionary War reenacting and visits to historic sites. When she’s not writing, she enjoys cooking, dancing, hiking, and spending time with her family. October 2015, look for the release of her next Michael Stoddard American Revolution Thriller, Deadly Occupation.

Social media links:
Web site: http://www.suzanneadair.net
Blog: http://www.suzanneadair.net/blog
Quarterly electronic newsletter: http://tinyletter.com/Suzanne-Adair-News
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/Suzanne.Adair.Author
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/Suzanne_Adair
Goodreads profile: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1188958.Suzanne_Adair
Amazon profile: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Suzanne-Adair/e/B003WH8Q36/

Cover - Regulated for Murder
Cover – Regulated for Murder

A review on The Review Group, and looking ahead to July 4th

An American theme for today’s blog! July 4th is coming up which, while largely unnoticed over here, will be the cause of all kinds of celebrations over there. So I am joining in the vicarious fun with an American theme.

Arizona terrain
Arizona terrain

First, my review on The Review Group for a western called Chasm Creek has just gone live. I hadn’t read a western for many years – possibly not since school days, which surely has to count as many years – so found myself unexpectedly delighted by this book. The depiction of the natural world of Arizona completely sucked me in, along with the storyline. Check out the review on the Review Group (or Facebook) and add a comment if you want to go in for a free prize draw copy of the book.

Suzanne Adair
Suzanne Adair

Also, the next in my series of author interviews will go live on 4th – on this occasion I am inviting Suzanne Adair to tell us about herself. Suzanne (who of course is American) writes about the US War of Independence and I reviewed a couple of her books not so long ago – Hostage to Heritage and Camp Follower.

Here is Suzanne’s bio to whet your appetite:

Award-winning novelist Suzanne Adair is a Florida native who lives in a two hundred-year-old city at the edge of the North Carolina Piedmont named for an English explorer who was beheaded. Her suspense and thrillers transport readers to the Southern theater of the Revolutionary War, where she brings historic towns, battles, and people to life. She fuels her creativity with Revolutionary War reenacting and visits to historic sites. When she’s not writing, she enjoys cooking, dancing, hiking, and spending time with her family. October 2015, look for the release of her next Michael Stoddard American Revolution Thriller, Deadly Occupation.

Welcome back on the fourth…

Language, active and passive

This is another in my occasional series looking at use of language across different cultures. There is a trend in English to use the active voice: “I had an idea“, “I understood it” and so on. Indeed, in some places, you come across the rather stronger statement that only the active voice is suitable for writing. This is sometimes attributed to George Orwell, though I have also read that he actually meant something entirely different, and I have never actually tracked down his original words!

Delos statues
Delos statues

But this is another of those language constructions which is culturally bound. Some languages, often but not exclusively Asian ones, prefer a passive form here: “An idea came to me“, “Understanding reached me” and so on. If one was speculating on reasons for this, it might be that in modern Europe and America, we like the idea of being agents rather than recipients. Or maybe we like to keep the fiction of absolute self-determination, and rather resent the idea that other things in the universe – especially things we like to think of as abstract qualities – might themselves have agency and intentions towards us.

This casual western assumption (if that is what it is) has come in for some serious knocking in the last few decades, what with quantum mechanical ideas of probability and uncertainty coming in from physics, insights about heredity and genetics from the life sciences, and an appraisal of the effect of the collective unconscious from psychological studies. However, my sense is that these perspectives have a lot of ground to make up before they make any serious inroads into our feelings of being an agent.

What does this mean for writing about other cultures and other times, and especially writing dialogue? Over the past few months I have picked out a number of other ways in which people in the past – or people in various parts of the world today – use language differently. There was repetition, social position, use of personal names, habits of speech, and grammar. It’s certainly a way to differentiate between the thought and word patterns of different people-groups. Some editors, and some reviewers, appear not to like this, and there are certainly big questions as to how far a book written in modern English ought to use constructions like this outside of interpersonal dialogue. I suppose in part it depends on whether the writer wants the internal worlds of his or her characters to impinge onto the main flow of the book.

Writing, both historical and speculative