Not PC

Authors who write historical fiction struggle to strike a balance between being historically accurate and not offending modern readers. It's a veritable tightrope. Lean too far either way, and you turn part of your audience off. Not leaning at all can upset them, too.

*reader throws book against the wall* "Choose a lane!"

(kidding)

Personally, Reader-Me prefers historical novels that make me feel as if I've been dropped into another time. Character dialogue and behavior should be true to the setting year, as should the depiction of life in general. I want the main characters to be likable, which often means making them a tad progressive for their time, but I don't mind things being portrayed the way they really were.

Our country was quite patriarchal in the 19th century, and women had few rights. Marriage vows contained the word obey, and men had the legal latitude to enforce it. Prior to the 1970s, there was no such thing as rape in marriage. A man could bed his wife anytime he wished, regardless of whether he had her permission. Because of the way society was back then, some readers avoid historical novels or prefer those filled with anachronisms. 

I don't. 

While I often craft my historical heroes to be manly, unapologetic heads of their homes, I also give them a soft side. To me, the fact an 1800s hero treats his heroine well, even when - by law - he doesn't have to, makes him more likeable than his contemporary counterparts, not less.

In Precious Atonement, the second book in my Forging America series, a widower knowingly marries a rape survivor. Although he does not intend to consummate their marriage on their wedding night, they've been friends for a while, and her fearful behavior stings his pride. 

He speaks firmly to her, as a man in 1849 wouldn't think twice about doing. Some readers didn't like that.

Jacob bent forward, planting the lightest of kisses on her palm. “Goodnight.” He released her hand and turned as if to leave.

“Wh– where are you going?”  

“To sleep in the spare room”

“Why?”

He turned fully back to her then, kind resignation muting his sapphire eyes. “You can barely stand to be in the same room with me. I won’t force you to share a bed.”

She watched him walk to the door, unable to say a word, unable to decide which emotion pouring through her was stronger—relief or regret.

Rachel’s heart beat so fast, it thrummed a constant quiver in her chest. “Wait,” she called as his broad body filled the frame.

He paused and looked back at her over his shoulder.

“Don’t go.” Her nerves settled a bit. “I don’t want you to go.”

His eyes narrowed briefly, then his brow smoothed. “Very well. If that’s your choice.”

“It is.”

Her anxiety rose again as he turned around, stealing what little serenity she’d gained.

Jacob walked to the other side of the bed and sat, causing frame to creak and the mattress to sag deeply. With practiced ease, he removed his boots and began to disrobe. He stood long enough to lower his trousers and lay his clothes across the back of a nearby chair, and then he climbed into bed, wearing only his drawers. After pulling the covers up to mid chest, he rested his arms casually atop the quilt.

Rachel stood frozen, trying with all her might to force her feet to move. She’d already disappointed him once. If she could manage to lie next to him, maybe she could salvage what was left of their first night together.

Jacob looked over at her, his face calm.

Swallowing, she crossed the room and climbed in. With a small and probably unconvincing smile, she turned her back to him and pulled the covers tightly over her shoulder and under her chin.

He blew out the lamp.

Her composure finally broke. She’d thought she could do this—that her will could override her fear—but she’d hurt Jacob’s feelings and ruined their wedding night. She held her sobs inside as tears spilled from her lids and trickled sideways down her face.

“Roll over.”

She shook her head. She was ashamed enough as it was.

“Turn and face me, Rachel. I’m not a harsh man, but I’m your husband and I expect to be obeyed. The bed is shaking. You’re either cold or you’re crying. Regardless, you will accept comfort from me.”

Jacob makes up for it, though.

Reluctantly, she did as he asked, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the dressing table mirror as she turned. Moonlight glimmered along the tracks her tears had made, turning them silver. She quickly swiped them away.

Jacob held out his arm in invitation. “Come. Put your head on my shoulder. I only wish to hold you close to my side. Nothing more.”

Rachel moved closer and eased herself into the crook of his arm. She stiffened when his forearm wrapped around her waist, but swallowed the urge to panic and reminded herself where she was and, more importantly, whom she was with. Warmth radiated from her husband’s skin, and her rigid posture began to ease.

“Would it be all right if I kissed the top of your head?”

“Yes.” At least she hoped so. After the way her traitorous body had spoiled things, she wasn’t sure of her reactions anymore.

Muscles bunched under her cheek as Jacob pressed his lips to her hair. She and Jacob both released a long breath as he relaxed against the pillow.

“This is how it will be between us,” he said, snugging his hold as if to punctuate his words. “This is your safe place. Whenever you wish, you can come to me like this, and I will comfort you. I won’t take your approach to mean anything more.

“Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” he asked when she didn’t respond.

She nodded.

His kindness pricked her heart, and tears threatened again. “I’m sorry I behaved the way I did.” She looked up at him tentatively. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“I know you’re not.”

“I thought I could...” Her lip trembled. “I ruined our special night.”

“No, you didn’t.” He brushed a fresh tear from her cheek. “I’m honored that you agreed to marry me, and I’m pleased that you trust me enough to share my bed, even if only for sleep.”

In book four of this series, which releases soon, I dealt with another aspect of writing historicals - period correct language. It's not my first go 'round, of course, but I've never had to manage it to this degree before. The hero is half Native American, and the story is an enemies-to-lovers romance.

Many words that were common in the 1800s have become offensive by today's standards. When writing Battered Pride, I grappled with our PC culture vs my commitment to etymology. 

In the end, period correct language won. I'll include a content warning on the retail page to aid prospective readers, but I decided what's important is the main characters' attitudes by the denouement and the theme of the story.

What about you? Which way do you lean?