USING FAMILY HISTORY TO WRITE SWEET HISTORICAL WESTERNS
By Debra Holland
I write
sweet (meaning not sexy) historical Western/prairie romance set in the 1880s
and 1890s in my fictional town of Sweetwater Springs, Montana. One of the
reasons I don’t write sexy books is because I want to remain true to the
morality of the time period.
In those
days, couples often didn’t indulge in physical gestures of affection until
after they were affianced or maybe not until they wed. A woman who engaged in
premarital sex risked the loss of her reputation (an important value in those
days) as well as becoming pregnant. Any child of an unwed mother was
illegitimate. Being born a “bastard” had significant lifelong social and legal
stigmas.
Keeping to
historical parameters of physical affection with a modern romance novel can be
difficult for an author. In order to do so, I’ve often drawn on stories of my
great-grandparents, told me by my grandmother as told to her by her
grandmother--not necessarily the details, but the pattern of behavior and the essence of their courtship and marriage.
My
great-great grandparents didn’t even kiss until they were married. Yet the
romantic connection between them must have been strong. During their courtship,
he wrote her a love letter that she cherished all her life. When he died, she
tucked the letter in his breast pocket, and he was buried with it.
With my
latest book, Glorious Montana Sky, I
had the dilemma of writing a romance with a hero who was a minister. The
constraints of the time period would be even stricter for Reverend Joshua
Norton, a missionary returning home to Sweetwater Springs, than for other men.
A minister
in 1895 (the time of Glorious Montana Sky)
would likely not kiss the woman he was courting. In addition to his own beliefs
about physical affection before marriage, the couple would have all the eyes of
their community watching them and judging—after all, the minister was supposed
to be the moral compass for his community.
Yet I needed
some kisses in my book. How could I make that happen? I did a whole lot of
thinking about possible love scenes, discarding all of them. I also
brainstormed with some author friends.
I knew
Joshua had to be caught up in the moment—the encounter innocent and unplanned.
Finally, I realized he’d have to be moved by emotion instead of passion,
and the scene came to me.
EXCERPT FROM GLORIOUS MONTANA SKY
No sign of Delia.
Anxious to see her, Joshua stepped through the glass door and onto the brick
path. He moved toward the fountain, then veered to the right, checking
underneath the arbor, and then looked across to the other. The wooden benches
under both were empty.
Disappointed and
wondering if she’d gone in to check on her father, Joshua continued his stroll
around the fountain, choosing the slanting path toward the gazebo. The breeze
brought the scent of the roses growing in beds along the wall. From this angle,
he could see through the doorway to where Delia sat reading on a cushioned
bench that circled the interior. His stomach did a little flip, and his feet
rooted to the ground.
Sunlight filtered
through the lattice and hanging morning glory vines to gild her gold-and-brown
patterned dress and burnish auburn highlights into her dark hair. He could see
her profile…the line of her throat, the soft rise and fall of her chest.
Somehow, Joshua
knew he’d always remember this image of her. Reluctant to shatter the picture,
he watched for another moment before taking off his hat. “Miss Bellaire,” he
called softly.
Delia looked up
from her book and saw him.
The way she smiled
and how her eyes lit up caused Joshua to catch his breath.
“Reverend Joshua.”
She placed a bookmark between the leaves and closed the volume. “How good to
see you.” She waved him in.
“Mrs. Graves tells
me your father is resting.”
“Yes, I insisted.
Although Papa does seem much stronger and has started to chafe at staying in
bed.”
“I don’t blame
him.”
“Your son is a
godsend, the way he entertains my father. After their chess game, Micah walks
him in the area outside the bedroom. It’s something to see, Papa’s hand on
Micah’s shoulder, their painstaking progress, that boy’s patience with a sick
man.”
Her words gave
Joshua a sense of pride. For so long, he’d only heard complaints and criticism
about his son, mostly he reflected with some guilt, from the boy’s own mother.
And she’d made him believe their son’s normal boyhood mischief was a more
serious behavioral problem. Thank
goodness, Micah and I are gradually growing closer.
“Visiting with
Andre has helped Micah too,” he said. “My son seems happier lately. I’m hopeful
adapting to Montana won’t be as difficult as he and I feared.”
She patted the
bench next to her. “Come sit. I imagine my father will awaken soon and will be
happy to see you.”
Joshua took a seat
next to her, perhaps closer than he would for any other lady, setting down the
bowler on his other side. “I’ve been in better spirits, too.”
Delia gazed at him,
sympathy in her eyes. “You’ve been in mourning.”
He let out a long
breath. “Yes, but I’ve also struggled with a feeling of malaise.”
She touched his
hand. “I’ve seen signs of that.”
“Being home…with my
family and old friends…” He gazed at her sure she could see his feelings in his
eyes. “And new ones…has proven to be
a tonic.”
Pink rose in her
cheeks, and she glanced away.
He reached inside
his coat, pulled out the letter from his vest pocket, and handed it to her.
“The stationmaster sent this with me. He says it’s from New Orleans.”
The light left her
eyes, and her skin paled. With obvious reluctance, Delia reached to take the
letter from him.
Concerned, Joshua
leaned toward her.
Delia glanced up at
him, her eyes wide and apprehensive. “It’s from my mother.”
“Would you like me
to leave so you can read in private?”
Her hand shot out
to clasp his. “Oh, no. Please stay.”
Joshua squeezed her
fingers and had to prevent an instinctive need to bring her hand to his lips.
Reluctantly he released her.
Delia took a deep
breath, opened the envelope, pulled out the single sheet of paper, and began to
read.
From the glimpse Joshua
had of the writing before he turned his face away, her mother had only written
a few paragraphs.
Delia made a small
gasping sound of distress.
His stomach
tightened. What’s wrong?
When she finished
reading, Delia kept her head averted. With shaking hands, she clumsily folded
the paper and tried to stuff the sheet back into the envelope.
Buy Link (Amazon exclusive) http://amzn.com/B00KAHYWHA
Debra
Holland is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of the Montana Sky Series, sweet, historical
Western romance. She’s a three-time Golden Heart finalist and one-time winner.
Debra is also the author of The Gods’
Dream Trilogy (fantasy romance) and the nonfiction book, The Essential Guide to Grief and Grieving.
She’s a contributing author to The Naked
Truth About Self-Publishing. Learn
more about her at http://drdebraholland.com
7 comments:
Debra, I love the Montana Sky series. Your writing immerses readers in the story. I hope you continue this series forever. LOL Thanks for guesting on Sweethearts!
I meant thanks for guesting on Cowboy Kisses.
Thank you so much for being our guest today. Enjoyed your post, shared it on Google, FB and Pinterest, and Triberr will see that it receives many tweets. Hope you'll return often as a guest.
Caroline, thanks for the feedback about the Montana Sky Series. I have many more books to come. :)
Ginger, thanks for the welcome!
Debra, thanks for your post. I think there is a lot of truth in what you say about the moral climate being different back in the day from it is now. I'm old enough that it was more subdued, or "sweet" back in my youth, at least until the sexual revolution of the 60s hit. I sometimes have problems with writers who impose the standards of today on the past. It wasn't real. I'm sure things happened back then, but not as often. The social penalties of disease, illegitimate children, women being left alone to try to raise a child and lost reputation were HUGH.
I have several of our Montana Sky novels and love them. Keep up the good work.
Robyn Echols writing as Zina Abbott
Thanks, Robin. I didn't even mention disease. And some sexual diseases can eventually kill you.
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