Hope against Hope

How I wrote Hope against Hope: Part One

2010-06-22T06:45:00.000-07:00

My good friend Vanessa Gebbie has emailed to ask how on earth I went about writing such a big complicated novel so I thought I'd try and show 'how I did it.' (Although it's more of a 'don't try this at home, children.') I've already written about the trials and tribulations about getting it published and some of the changes and decisions I made were to do with the input from those agents and editors. In case you haven't seen it, here's the link.

That post briefly touches on what I set out to write but not how I went about it or how it changed--and boy how it changed. It seems so long ago now that I can't remember how and in what order it developed so that now when I dare look at the finished product (typos and all) I wonder whatever possessed me to even begin such a monster or even the writing process. It sort of happened. I'm going to have to think very hard back to the time when I was a starry-eyed writer with two sons still at school, with a few short-story successes under my belt and was wondering whether I could actually write a novel. There was only one way to find out.

These days I understand pretty much what works for me and I don't try and do what doesn't come naturally. But then I listened and read a lot of advice and set out to do what other people recommended. I can't remember the moment when I decided to write about two sisters whose lives diverged but I knew from very early on that sisters it would be. (It would take a therapist to work out why. I have a few theories but nothing concrete.) But where to set it? I knew (why? No idea) it had to be set in the north of England, probably Yorkshire and that it would have railways in it. (again I can't tell you why except that railways have always fascinated me for a reason I can't explain intelligently.)

So the first thing I did was to do what other writers said they did and that was to set out in detail some sort of a synopsis, a plan--a kind of spreadsheet with a list of characters and each year the story spanned. (Then again this must have been later when I actually had more than one character.) Only I couldn't. Nothing materialised. I bought notebooks with squared pages. I tried rolls of old wallpaper I found in the attic, All remained blank. I thought about the first scene a lot--my sisters first ran a pub in the country and had a father (called Harry--who I had to kill off early one) and that May (then called Harriet!) would go into service at the local big house and be seduced by the son of the family.

Screeeeech! (Sound effect of brakes applied heavily.) Although I'd decided I was going to write popular rather than literary fiction (because that's what everyone told me was more likely to find a publisher) I soon realised that avoiding cliche was essential. And besides, once I got that far, I didn't know what would happen. I'd actually cliched myself into a cul-de-sac.

That's where planning lead up. Up a dead end. No through road. Fortunately I must have then attended a talk or something (I was, as I said, very much swayed by what others said in those days) during which a published writer I admired laughed at the very idea of planning, said she wouldn't know what a plan was if it smacked her in the face and that she would find herself thinking about a character and a setting and started to write. So that's what I did and hey, it worked. I've since l;earned that I am, what is known in the trade as a panster--a horrid word which basically means I prefer to write by the seat of my pants. I can't plan and if I do, then I'm bored because I know what's going to happen. Read more about panster versus plotting here.

Sometime around then, I must have decided to set my novel in Harrogate. First of all, I was living there which made the research easy--I did a lot of walking about with a camera and identified buildings and locations I could use. And I was always borrowing local history books from the library. Lots of ideas were popping into my head mainly about which period in history and places I wanted to write about. Railways were never far away from my thoughts and although I knew that Harrogate's first railway station was not where it is now, I couldn't find any description of it whatsoever. Even when I found a short article about its opening in the Harrogate Advertiser of the week after, it was brief and to the point. No illustrations, no account of who was there and how one opens a railway station. Then I realised that this was an ideal opportunity. I could make it all up--but I'm getting ahead of myself.

I also had decided at this stage that the title would be The Ringing Grooves. I still like this title but no-one else ever has so maybe they're right. It's a couplet from Tennyson's poem Locksley Hall:

Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forward let us range,

Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.

Not only was it written in 1842, smack in the middle of the period I wanted to write about, but I chose it to represent the sweep of history and change of the time that underlines the novel but also because it was written in the very early days of railway travel and Tennyson made a mistake. He thought that the wheels of engines and carriages fitted within a groove in the track and not, as is the case, the other way round. I felt this a fitting metaphor for the misapprehensions and misinterpretations that are at the novel's heart.

Ah well...

For those of you who have read Hope against Hope and wonder how I managed to twist together so many different plots, all I can say that I love tangled plots anyway and that it happened organically--which is why I don't like planning. In addition there were originally at least three other plot strands that had to be unstitched at one stage. An agent said there were too many coincidences and too many people who detracted from the main 'ove story.' I will talk about this in my second post on the subject. But to round off this part, I thought I'd write about how I created my characters.

I shall take as an example, Bob Old, who I would describe as an important secondary character. I was still at the early very first draft stage and I needed to get Carrie and May (Then Caroline and Harriet!) from Leeds to Harrogate. Why would they choose there? It's fifteen miles from Leeds and not an obvious choice. I also wanted to describe a bit about Harrogate before they got there to give readers some indication of what a shock it would be to them. But how without a static and leaden lump of description? I needed someone who'd been there but didn't like it very much to describe it in dialogue. And so I invented Bob Old as a means to an end without any other role. But the more I wrote, the more he emerged as someone who 'carried a torch' for Carrie--at least to begin with--and would be a loyal friend throughout--a steady, if someone solid character. (I called him Bob Old, incidentally, although he is only in his early twenties at the beginning of the novel because I have a friend of that name. Now he is everything the novel's Bob Old isn't. He's bright, witty, the life and soul of the party and also mischievous and I wanted to tease him back.) He wasn't meant to feature beyond the moment when his cart takes them away from Leeds but as I'm sure the writers amongst you will find that some characters will not fade away and the more I wrote the more useful I found him. Later, I wanted to get Tildy away from Carrie to prevent her from becoming a substitute May and what better way than to have Tildy and Bob fall in love? It was only later than amongst their other functions, they come to represent the rise of the Victorian middle-class with their tribe of children growing every year.

Have you ever made a tray or a bowl out of layers of sodden tissue paper or newspaper. That seems to me the way I create character. I add layer upon layer until they're solid, even having to take away certain character-traits or snatches of dialogue that don't work. Being is panster is a very wasteful way of writing in some respects but I can't write without that freedom to try things and discard them if they don't work.

This happened with many of the lesser characters. They began as a means to an end and then ended up with their own life. Some never became solid or were cut entirely. Kitty McVay was another favourite who began as a means to an end, to help May escape from Buxton House and show the true nature of what went on within its walls. In fact she played a greater part in the first draft and was cut back. But for those of you who would like to know, she survived the February Revolution, escaped to London in a stolen coach, thrived and ended up entertaining the London glitterati at Covent Garden with her own mansion in Piccadilly!

That's more than enough for now. More later.

Hope against Hope: Hotels

2010-05-22T06:49:00.000-07:00

The recent tragic fire at the Majestic Hotel in Harrogate gave me one of those scary moments. Those of you who have read Hope Against Hope will know that the climax of the novel is a hotel fire. (I'll say no more so as not to spoil things for those who haven't.)

Hotels have always been important to Harrogate. Once places where visitors would stay and be seen when taking the waters, they are now part and parcel of the town's booming conference and exhibition business. They also feature heavily in my novel. The Majestic Hotel isn't mentioned simply because it wasn't built until later.

Of the 'real' hotels mentioned in the novel, The Old Swan is the oldest. This, once an inn, was one of the very earliest hotels. For some time during the nineteen twenties and thirties, it was renamed the Harrogate Hydropathic Hotel (or the Hydro) and it was at this hotel that Agatha Christie was 'discovered' after her mystery disappearance in the 1920s.

Other hotels mentioned in passing are The Dragon Hotel (since demolished) and The Granby Hotel (how a residential home.) The Brunswick Hotel (now a block of luxury flats) still looms large over the magnificent Prince of Wales roundabout with its all-year-round floral displays and is where Carrie was snubbed and humiliated, although she later got her revenge!

The Crown Hotel, pictured left, is where Carrie was presented with her silver rose-bowl trophy for being the Hotelier of the Year, only to realise that it meant nothing to her. It is also where the novel ends with May in splendour in the best suite. It is probably the best hotel in Harrogate today and is currently the home to the internationally renowned annual Crime Writing Festival--an event not to be missed for any writer--even if crime isn't your genre.

Another early hotel was The Queen Hotel (now the Cedar Court), the scene of Pierre and Polly's disastrous seance in which they'd planned to get their grubby little mitts on Olivia's ruby.

So on to Carrie's hotels. Taylor's (later renamed the Railway) is a total figment of my imagination. For those of you who fancy doing a Hope Against Hope walk around Harrogate, I placed it where today Station Parade meets York Place and The Stray.

I based The Hope Hotel on the White Hart Hotel in Low Harrogate with its white stone facade and elegant rows of windows. Internally, it is again all my own imagination.

So, if you do visit Harrogate soon, do go for a drink or a meal in any one of the hotels and if you're lucky, you may. when you're not really looking, catch a glimpse of one of my characters flitting by...

And the winners are...

2010-05-12T10:49:00.000-07:00

JILL STEVENSON

HELEN LOWRY

who each win a signed copy to HOPE AGAINST HOPE! So, if you'd like to drop an email giving me your postal address to thewritingelephant@googlemail.com I'll post them off as soon as I can, bearing in mind that I only get to a post office once a week and the local carrier pigeons are currently on strike in protest against volcanic ash spoiling their tail feathers.

Two great reviews!

2010-05-06T07:19:00.000-07:00

Check this link to read a truly fab review from the Historical Novel Society's reviews magazine. You'll need to scroll down to the bottom, but while you're doing so, take a look at the illustrious company I find myself in. (And plenty of wonderful historical novels of all kinds.)

The even greater thing is that although I have been involved with the HNS for some years, I do not know the reviewer at all and I had nothing to do with Hope Against Hope being an Editors' Choice title. I am thrilled.

And thank you, thank you, 'Reader' from Bournemouth, whoever you are, for your lovely review on Amazon to add to Nicola Slade's--who is the fast making a name for herself as the doyenne of Victorian whodunits.

A big favour--and a freebie (or two)

2010-05-04T10:15:00.000-07:00

IF you've read Hope against Hope--and IF you didn't hate it--could you please pop over to Amazon UK and post a brief review here. I and my publisher would be ever so grateful. I'm not asking for five stars (although that would be lovely.) IF, on the other hand, you have read it and think it's complete and utter bilge, then please don't. I'm a fragile sensitive flower. (Shut up, Jane Smith.) Email me instead. I cry better in private.

If you could also spread the word among your friends and family who might enjoy historical fiction set in early Victorian times, I will love you forever. (I've discovered from 10 book-signings that it's likely to find favour among the more mature female population. Birthday present for a favourite aunt?)

Better stop before I sound too desperate.

I also have two free copies to give away. Instead of just adding your name to the comments for a chance to be put into the draw, please email me at thewritingelephant at googlemail dot com and answer this question:

What is the name of the 200 acres of grassland to the south of Harrogate's town centre? (Answers will be found not too far away.)

You have until this time next week. (Tuesday 11th May.) I haven't a cat but I have a husband. He has been delegated the task of pulling two names out of the hat. Not that he knows yet. Mind you, it's the least he can do since he refuses to read it. I don't do fiction is not any sort of excuse in my view. It's an admission of inadequacy.

The Stray

2010-04-20T03:54:00.000-07:00

It's a funny name isn't it? But this rather fuzzy map shows exactly how it embraces Harrogate on its south side to this day. These days it a gorgeous expanse of grass where grass mowing tractors trundle across it every week in high summer, allowing that euphoric aroma of freshly-mown grass to waft across the town. My way into town from where I used to live took me across it. In summer it was glorious but in winter the wind could slice across it like a knife! And any rain is always horizontal. It is criss-crossed by paths lined with chestnut and cherry trees (whose pink, blousey blossom will look stunning right now as I type and the breeze will cause it to drift in confetti proportions across the paths, although the carpets of crocuses will have already finished--cue pictures!

(From L to R, they show a distance glimpse of what was once The Brunswick Hotel, where Carrie received short shrift, and is now Prince of Wales Mansions, a block of rather superior apartments; the Tewit Well, with the cupola which used to stand over the sulphur well before the Pump Room was built in 1842 and thirdly the famous crocuses!)

Up to the end of the 18th century, The Stray was rough grazing land on a wind-swept (still is!) area of high land which so happen to contain a variety of medicinal springs. Buildings grew up around these 'sources of health' to accommodate drinkers which in later centuries grew into fashionable hotels. This Brief History of Harrogate (well worth a read) explains the urgent need to protect the well and keep access freely available to all. Hence, the 200 acres of land stretching between the two centres of Low and High Harrogate was made the subject of an Act of Parliament on August 19 1778.

'The said two hundred acres of land shall forever hereafter remain open and unenclosed and all persons whomsoever shall and may have free access at all times to the said springs, and be at liberty to use and drink the waters there arising, and take the benefit thereof, and shall and may have, use, and enjoy full and free ingress, egress and regress, in, upon, and over, the said two hundred acres of land, and every, and any part thereof, without being subject to the payment of any acknowledgment whatsoever for the same, or liable to any action of trespass, or other suit, molestation, or disturbance whatsoever, in respect thereof.'

This remains in force today and will forever, I hope. It's a great place for a picnic, to fly kites, play football, hold an impromptu party. Its upkeep and welfare is keenly safeguarded by Harrogate Council and also The Stray Defence Association.

But why is it called the The Stray and what was it like at the time when Hope against Hope is set? The name is lost in obscurity but it can be assumed it derives from the fact that those who were called 'Straygate holders' were allowed to their livestock to stray on it. Then it was still very rough pasture, very much like the open moorland we associate today with wilder areas of Yorkshire. People would ride across it, parade along its paths showing off their fine clothes and it even hosted a racecourse for a few years. (In fact the first race-meeting is featured in one of the later chapters of the novel.) It was rather wild and boggy and even now, if you stand in the middle of it away from footpaths and traffic, it can seem very lonely and remote. No wonder Carrie lost her way when she first encountered it in the dark!

It is still an icon of the town, so much so that the local commercial radio station is called Stray FM, and the name will be seen on many small businesses. Harrogate has its more formal Valley Gardens, Harlow Carr botanic gardens, its Royal Hall and International Centre and its chi-chi boutiques and antique shops--not forgetting the famous Betty's Tea Rooms--but the Stray remains the Jewel in its Crown.

The Launch: I name this ship 'Hope against Hope'. May God bless her and...

2010-04-12T09:50:00.000-07:00

'Twas a small but select gathering of my favourite people who assembled last Friday, 9th April, in Harrogate's Victorian pump Room Museum to get Hope against Hope off to a flying start. (Ships, flying? Get your metaphors sorted, woman.)

Briefly, in order, the photos show:

1. My publisher, Ed Handyside waxing lyrical about the book and my sceptical response.

2. Rapt attention as I read my extract. Darling Jane Smith in the foreground and towards the back, good friend and published novelist, Nicky Slade, quaffing, husband Morley twinkling as he eats--a rare talent and Linda Priestley, writer of short stories and gardening features and another friend who I'm glad to see is paying attention. I shall test her later. Also in the picture is John, a member of the fabulous Team Zigmond in fetching cover-design T-shirt.

3. More adoring fans. My sister in law. Rita; Jill Brewer, hiding; Jane again; Christine Todd, author of the recently published Pins which I shall blog about shortly and her husband plus Bill Brewer and Annette Bray, both good friends and neighbours from Rosedale Abbey.

4. Me reading with, I think, an unidentified press person falling asleep in the background.

We have lift off...

2010-04-08T12:34:00.000-07:00

It all happens tomorrow--although it'll probably be today when you read this and I will be on my way over to Harrogate (via Leeds, like Carrie and May.) But rather than looking for work I shall be resting on my laurels, first signing copies in Waterstone's on James Street and then onwards to my party. Have I been practising my signature? What do you think?

Now the long-awaited moment has finally arrived I feel rather odd. Of course, I'm happy. It would be foolish of me to say I'm not. It's like all my birthdays rolled into one. But I'm also apprehensive and nervous and feel the most dreadful fraud. I am not a wilting violet by any means although being the centre of attention is not my comfort zone. And I was brought up not to boast.

So, you'll be pleased to know that this blog will soon return to talking about the contents of the novel, not me. Next time, Harrogate's hotels and Victorian food. (Although I have appointed Jane Smith my official photographer for the day so watch out for some incriminating shots appearing here soon.)

And another radio interview...

2010-04-01T06:21:00.000-07:00

This time it's BBC Radio York, this Saturday, April 3rd at 11.30 am. Apparently, guests are asked to pick a year to talk about and they'll choose suitable music. I plumped for 1969, the year I left school and my life really began! I hope they pick one or two good tracks. Quite what it has to do with a novel set in the 19th century, though, is anyone's guess!

Now available from Amazon (and all good bookshops soon)!

2010-04-01T02:52:00.000-07:00

In case you're interested, you can order your copy from Amazon UK. Here's the link. I still haven't got my copies yet but I should get them by the middle of next week. I am itching--and also nervous--to get my hands on one. Waterstone's website shows there are copies in stores now. But I don't think every shop will carry them. It's mainly in Yorkshire, although their flagship London Piccadilly store has a small stock, apparently.

I'm beginning to turn into an obsessive author, checking everywhere for signs of sales. Incidentally, can any of you clever people explain, if anything, what the Amazon ranking system means?

Coming to a Waterstone's near you soon...

2010-03-28T05:17:00.000-07:00

Here are some dates for your diary.

I shall be signing copies of Hope against Hope at the following Waterstone's stores next month. If you are able to find your way to any of them, I would love to see you and say hello. I would also like you to buy a copy, but won't sulk if you don't. Promise!

Harrogate. Friday 9th April 2-3pm

Bury. Wednesday 14th April 11-2pm

Bradford. Friday 16th April (time to be fixed)

Preston. Friday 23rd April (time to be fixed)

Leeds. Saturday 24th April 11am

Further details and store addresses can be found on Waterstone's website

Radio Interview

2010-03-16T13:05:00.000-07:00

I'm being interviewed about Hope Against Hope, tomorrow, 16th March on BBC Radio Leeds at 3pm. Tune in or catch up on your i-player and listen to me make a total prat of myself. Thank goodness it's not TV.

I'm not one to boast but...

2010-03-15T10:39:00.000-07:00

...I'm beginning to get used to it. So I offer no apologies for drawing your attention to this, my very first, review. Weehee! Thank you, Scott Pack. I am hopelessly devoted to you.

So, what's it about, then?

2010-03-02T09:41:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, I'm stupid enough to tell a chance acquaintance that I've written a novel. Ten to one, the next question is the title of this post. I begin modestly. 'Well...er...it's a historical romance about...'
'Oh-ho! Bodice-ripper, eh?' Steamy stuff, I bet. Will I have to read it in a brown paper wrapper? Cue huge belly laugh.

Then again, if I do manage to begin on the characters and the plot, my questioner usually has an urgent appointment with the bar: and I'm left wishing I hadn't opened my big mouth.

So what is Hope against Hope about?

Well, it's about two young sisters, Carrie and May. Having been forced to leave the The Red Lion Inn in Leeds, which has always been their home, they travel to Harrogate where Carrie is sure they'll find work in one of the many hotels or inns. Once there, they are both deceived into parting company. Carrie remains in Harrogate but May, after finding herself in a brothel, runs away and eventually settles in Paris. Both believe the other is at fault, each is determined to erase the other from her memory. Both achieve success but it comes at a price. Neither can be totally happy until they find each other again--but fierce pride and hurt stand in the way.

It's also about two good friends. Alex and Charles met at a cheerless boarding school and have remained friends into adulthood. Alex is a happy-go-lucky engineer, too busy in the boom years of Railway Mania to dwell on the past or worry about his future. Charles, on the other hand, is miserable. He is a doctor but has no love or aptitude for the profession; all he can do, when he's bothered, is to ply his patients--those few he has--with sugar-syrup and other quack remedies. He detests his step-father, his mother suffers periods of insanity he doesn't know how to cure. No wonder he despises himself.

The relationship between these four people and the way their lives interconnect is at the heart of the novel. But life isn't just about love and fulfilment. The novel is also about Harrogate's rise from an eccentric collection of bathhouses, inns and wells into a highly-respected Victorian Spa. It's about the railway-mania of the 1840s, the development of the nineteenth century from debauchery to Victorian Values. It's about Paris in February 1848, a city trembling on the verge of yet another revolution.

Then, we have Polly and Pierre, Bob and Tildy and their growing family, Byron Taylor and Olivia, his aristocratic wife. In Paris May finds true friendship in Francine and her daughter, Sophie. Then, there's sad little Annie...

Okay, okay. Off you go. The bar's over there and mine's a gin and tonic, by the way. Large.

April 9th 2010 will be a Very Special Day

2010-02-19T10:16:00.000-08:00

Not only is it my lovely mum's birthday but because it's launch day! Hope against Hope is actually published on 4th April so it will (touch wood and a following wind and all that) be available to buy from then but the fun won't really start until the Friday of the week. You see there's an unfortunate blip called Easter in the way and folks are more interested in chocolate eggs than novels--the fools.

I say fun. I'm half excited and half absobloodylutely terrified. First of all I have to endure torture-by-signing-session in the local Waterstone's (James Street). This will be between 2 and 3pm. So, please, please to save my blushes, I'd love you, if you are within striking distance of the fair town of Harrogate at that time, to come in and say hello and drift about my table for a bit, looking interested. I will be forever in your debt. You are not obliged to buy a book but do come and say hi, so I won't feel a total prat. I've worked in too many bookshops for too long to imagine long queues of adoring fans. Even the store manager said (apparently) that they'd rather have Terry Wogan. Fair enough. He is a brilliant writer, after all. But me? Signing books in Waterstone's? Even if no-one turns up. Wow!

In the evening there's also the 'official' launch party which is by invitation only, I'm afraid. This is because the venue, Harrogate's pump room museum (see below), isn't very large and also because I'm not organising it. I just have to wash behind my ears, turn up and smile--which I may find difficult after the afternoon's session.

I'm delighted with the venue because the building itself plays a small part in Hope against Hope when the present structure (minus the annexe on the left of the picture) was built and officially opened (1842).

Here's a snippet from the uncorrected proof. And the format is not how it will be in the novel. Blogger doesn't do intended paragraphs.

The splendid new pump-room was filling up, its occupants bubbling and gushing like the waters it supplied. Rainbow light filtered through the stained glass dome in the ceiling onto the shining mahogany counter.

Charles was already seated, a hunched lone figure on the raised platform reserved for members of the Improvement Commission. His head pounded like a steam hammer. He nodded vaguely as one by one his fellow members arrived and seated themselves. They looked about them with pride and satisfaction as if to say: We did this. This is our work. Aren’t we clever? Their wives sat beside them like preening pigeons.

‘Dr Brooke?’

The landlord of the Swan Inn stood before him. ‘Isn’t this splendid?’ He waved his arms at the press of people. ‘Don’t our ladies look delightful?’ He looked around. ‘Is your wife not here?’

‘My wife?’ He looked about in panic. Which of these women was his wife?

The man looked at him strangely. ‘Too busy, I suppose?’

‘I suppose so,’ said Charles and the man moved on, shaking his head.

Setting: 1-Harrogate

2010-02-01T01:44:00.000-08:00

The illustration behind the blog title is of Harrogate, several years before Hope against Hope begins. However, little would have changed by the time my characters arrive. For those of you who know Harrogate, this view is still recognisable today as the area now known as Low Harrogate, the viewpoint being roughly where West Park becomes Parliament Street today. The large building in the distance to the right where people are congregating is The Crown Hotel--which is still a major player in Harrogate's hotel scene.

The Harrogate of today grew around two small communities: Low Harrogate and High Harrogate. There was nothing in-between until long after my novel ends and the two areas are still pretty distinct.

What follows isn't intended to be a complete and accurate history of Harrogate: merely a background to the novel.

The Wells

What gave Harrogate its uniqueness as a spa was (and still is) the huge number of wells and the many different types of water found in them. Each is unique in its chemical composition although there are three main types: Chaleabyte (pronounced Kay-lie-bite) which is iron-based; Magnesia and Sulphur with its 'distinctive' smell and taste of rotten eggs. (There are also dozens of capped-off wells in the area known once as Bogs Field and is now the Valley Gardens.)

The Sulphur Well which later houses the Royal Pump Rooms wasn't the first spring to be discovered. That distinction goes to the Tewit Well, so named after the tewits (a local dialect name for the lapwing) which were flocking about the spring when first discovered in the late 16th or early17th century. The area was mainly wild and windy heath, part of the ancient hunting forest of Knresborough. The rapid growth of Harrogate in the mid to late 19th century which turned it from a satellite of the medieval township of Knaresborough into the town that now dominates its neighbour has always been and remains today a source of rivalry--and not a little rancour.)

However, the most important well was soon to be the Sulphur Well in Low Harrogate. When my novel opens it is covered by an open classical construction with pillars and a domed cupola. When Improvement Commissioners were appointed and the town began to be regulated and governed, it was incorporated in a new and elegant Pump Room which opened in 1842 (small picture: top.) The old structure was dismantled and rebuild over the original Tewit Well, where it still stands today (small picture: bottom) I used to walk past it on my way into town at least twice a week when I lived in the town!

Here's how I describe it.

The three women had made themselves comfortable on the low wall circling the Sulphur Well. As the sun beat down their sleeves were pushed above their elbows and their laughter echoed between the scattering of hotels, inns and cottages of Low Harrogate.

‘You’re pulling my leg, Betty.’
‘I tell you no lie, Tabitha. He downed a full gallon of this water in five minutes without batting an eyelid.’
‘And then never moved from his chamber for the next twelve hours, I suppose?’
Bella Bryson leaned forward. ‘You mean chamber-pot, don’t you?’ The other two cackled. The laxative effect of Harrogate’s sulphur water never failed to raise a laugh. Betty Lupton sighed. ‘It’s too hot for laughing.’ They fell silent, watching dust skitter along the dry, white paths.

The large illustration below shows the Montellier (Magnesia) Well and behind it, the Montpellier Baths--now demolished. (There was an awful lot of unforgivable municipal vandalism in the mid-twentieth century.)

The photograph below is of the Crimple Viaduct--the river being Harrogate's rather insignificant waterway. (Incidentally, the river gave its name to Crimplene, that awful crinkly man-made fibre devised by ICI Fibres, at its HQ in Harrogate. The building is now part of Harrogate College.)

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. This viaduct features strongly in the novel and I made Alex Sinclair its engineer. (The viaduct on the novel's cover, I assume, is the Ribblehead Viaduct on the famous Settle-Carlisle line, judging from the landscape.) The Crimple Viaduct is in a more wooded and bucolic landscape.

I think that's enough for one post before I get carried away and it turns into a history lesson! If you wish to read more about the discovery of the many wells and springs, click HERE.

Hope against Hope

2010-01-24T09:47:00.000-08:00

Welcome to my new blog! Here you will find a rag-bag full of useless background stuff about my novel to be published on April 4th 2010.

Boiled down to its basics, it's a historical romance so if this kind of novel brings you out in a rash, I won't expect you to hang around. But I like to think there's more to it than that. I am interested in history--not so much the politics, the wheeling and dealing of those in power--but the social history; the way what was happening around them, shaped the way people thought and behaved.

So here's some background. When most people think of the Victorian age, they lump it all together into this black-treacly mass of repression, rampant industrialisation, starvation and misery on the city streets and bloated hypocrisy among the rich. They see a fat queen dressed in widow's weeds who is not amused and shudders when someone dares to talk about legs, even though they are referring to the tea-table.

Much of this is not only stereotyped, it is wrong. Victoria reigned from 1838 to 1901 and the country of her accession was a foreign country compared with the way it was as she left it. Hope against Hope is set between the years 1838 and 1848 so when the novel opens, the word 'Victorian' hadn't been invented. The strict moral code that has come to be known as 'Victorian Values' did not exist. Whilst my novel does not discuss politics or economics, I hope that anyone who reads it for what I hope is a cracking story will notice the way the social background changes as the pages turn.

Basically, the novel tells the story of young sisters, Carrie and May, and follows their journey from Leeds to Harrogate where their lives and fortunes diverge; Carrie stays in Harrogate and its hotels and May embraces La Vie Parisienne. Crossing and recrossing their separate paths to maturity and self-awareness are two friends, Alex and Charles, who each have their own rocky paths to tread. The novel also features several other stories; that of dependable but dull Bob Old and the workhouse-born Tildy; Pierre and Polly, a pair of disreputable rogues and the brooding and dark presence of Mr Byron Taylor.

Alice, that representative of the later Victorian miss, bemoaned books that lacked pictures or conversation, so, for starters, I'm chucking a few random pictures into the mix--to whet the appetite.

My next post will be about Harrogate and how the period of Hope against Hope saw its progression from a few stinking wells and a motley stream of visitors to a proud spa--THE summer destination for all discerning and rich Northerners.

The Young Victoria

And although May becomes a couturier, the novel does not dwell on fashion. (Nor on cooking, even though Carrie can make a banquet out of a few sheep-bones.) But for those who are interested, and also to give the 'look' of the novel. here's are a few fashion plates. During the period from 1838 to 1848, fashion didn't change over-rapidly. Skirts slowly got wider by the use of more and more petticoats. However, the very wide skirts and crinoline cages are not a feature of this era; they begin to make their appearance in the following decade.

Evening Dress 1838

Day Dresses 1848

Evening Dress 1848