Regan's Books

Regan's Books
Reads From Regan Taylor

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Who Popped into Your Bedroom Last Night -- or Where do we Meet Our Characters


Lynn Hones visits this week to talk about where she met hers. 

I love to write about historic events. If I don’t write about a specific event, I seem to find a way to slip one into my stories. I love the era of the Civil War. I think it was a horrific time to go through, and yet, in a way, romantic, too. Not that I’d ever like that kind of romance, but it showed people what was important in life. The love of one’s significant other became all encompassing and held most people up under dire circumstances. Love became the courage that held men up in battle and raised women up from the pits of despair. 

In my book, Those Who Wait, my character, Victoria Wentworth, was someone I’d love to sit next to on a crisp, fall day and sip tea with. In the story, she is a woman close to one hundred years old, who holds the devotion of her first husband, Hugh, in her heart. Hubert died in World War I, not long after they married, but she never felt the need or urge to find another mate. She still felt him around her and considered him her husband even though no one else felt his presence or understood her passion.

The First World War is of great interest to me, so I managed to slip it into the story. My grandfather fought in it and lost his younger brother, who, at the age of sixteen, lied about his age and joined the army. Not unlike the movie, Legend of the Falls, my grandpa felt responsible to keep him safe and I always felt he blamed himself for his death.

I have both wars in my book, not because I like war, no one does, but as I said before, it tends to bring our human emotions to new heights and lifts our eyes to things of greater glory. We are in a war now. Everyday we hear of someone who has been killed or hurt. My heart breaks every time I hear about a young person taken. I think of the wives, husbands, mothers, fathers and children they left behind. These mourners wait for the day when they will see their loved one again. They remember the little things, not the big things. Smells, a favorite show, a particularly hearty laugh, all the things that make us individuals, live on in the minds of grieving family members.

When the Japanese mend broken objects, they aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold. They believe that when something’s suffered damage and has a
history it becomes more beautiful.
Billie Mobayed

That’s how I feel about my character, Victoria Wentworth. A person with a true heart, brave and forgiving, someone willing to take what is dealt and although takes the time to forage in the dark jungle of self pity, and rightly so, comes out of it shining like a piece of clay removed from the hot, relentless fires of a kiln.

For those with eyes and hearts that seek the truth, it’s not super models or the Kardashians who are the most beautiful people in the world, but those who have suffered the most and remain calm and accepting of that suffering, who carry the true loveliness of life. The exquisite lines of wear on an old face, and the broken heart of a young widow struggling to make it alone in a cold world are absolutely stunning in their heroic countenance and peaceful understanding. These are the people I like to sit next to on a cool day and talk with, and I guess write about, too.


Next week I'll be hosting Ann Tracy Marr and visiting Lynn Hones at  lynnhones.wordpress.com   

Be sure to leave a comment for our weekly giveaway and to be entered into our $50 grand prize at the end of out tour! 

2 comments:

  1. Lynn, nice post! I would love to read "Those Who Wait" it sounds like my cup of tea :-) Regan, your blog is fantastic! Thanks for a great visit!

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  2. My grand dad was a doughboy too. He married my Grandmother and spent the next four years in the trenches of Europe. I try to imagine the brave fortitude she exhibited each and every day--never knowing if her sweet young husband would ever return to her. And he in those horrible trenches. *shiver* It was an ugly war. You are so right that such dire circumstances shows a person's mettle.

    Writing about wartime is built in angst and character testing.

    Thanks for the thoughtful post.

    Christine London

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