Nostradamus wrote a lot more than his well-known Prophecies and Almanacs. He cast many individual horoscopes and made many individual prophecies to private (usually noble or royal) persons. In the course of my research for The Second Duchess I found a prophecy Nostradamus made privately to Alfonso II d’Este, the Duke of Ferrara, although I won’t go into detail about it here because who knows? Perhaps one day it will play a part in another Ferrara story.
However, this seed of information is presently flowering into a lovely plotline in the new book I’m working on. What if, what if. What if Nostradamus had written a series of prophetic quatrains for Mary of Guise, the dowager Queen and Regent of Scotland, mother of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots? Mary of Guise visited France in 1550-1551 and might, just might have met Nostradamus, whose first published Almanac was for the year 1550.
What if the secret quatrains revealed the future of Scotland, vis-a-vis England and France? Imagine what, say, Elizabeth Tudor in England and Catherine de’ Medicis in France would have given to lay their hands on those prophecies.
What if Mary of Guise kept them in a silver casket? What if it was the same casket that eventually held the Casket Letters? What happened to the casket in between?
The thing is, to make this work I have to write the prophecies myself. So I have to write like Nostradamus. Now that is historical fiction with sprinkles.
I am such a sucker for mysterious theories like the Mayan prediction of the end of the world on December 21, 2012. (Apparently it isn’t so much the end of the world as it is the end of a cycle. But I digress.) I also love fiction set in historical Mesoamerica—Gary Jennings’ Aztec, for example, and Simon Levack’s wonderful and not-well-enough-known Yaotl mysteries. So when I saw Brian d’Amato’s In the Courts of the Sun I snatched it up immediately.
I wasn’t disappointed. Wow. What a ride. What an immersion in an ancient, utterly alien culture. It’s part historical fiction, part science fiction, part speculative fiction, part game-theory treatise. The dissonance between the modern-day protagonist and the world he’s thrown into is staggering and really brilliantly done.
I do have to ask, though—why does every book I read these days seem to end with a tacked-on “hook” into the next book? Why can’t a book just end, complete and beautiful in itself? I loved this book and I would have found and purchased a sequel, all by my lonesome. Really, I would.
The ever-fabulous Diana Fox pointed me to this blog. It has since become one of my daily pleasures. Who wouldn’t love two beagle boys marking their way across the country? With restaurant reviews! Scenery! Music lists! And more bonus beagle pictures!
Fred and Hank Mark America
I only wish they hadn’t had to skip Dallas due to time constraints. Maybe on the next trip Fred and Hank can meet Cressie and Boo!
I am a committed fan of Ariana Franklin’s Mistress of the Art of Death tales. The third book in the series, Grave Goods, finds Adelia Aguilar, medica of Salerno and the English King Henry II’s unofficial medical examiner (or “mistress of the art of death”), sent to Glastonbury to examine two mysterious skeletons which may or may not be the remains of Arthur and Guinevere. (There is fascinating historical background for this, which of course I had to research further after reading the book—one of the great pleasures of historical fiction.)
Franklin’s wry humor intertwines with mysterious monks, suspicious inn-keepers, vanishing traveling parties, terrifying (and sometimes quirkily sympathetic) forest outlaws, walled-up crypts on Glastonbury Tor, sealed secret passages, brooding marshes, and of course the forensic mystery of the skeletons—who are they? How did they come to be buried as they were?
I loved this book, as I loved the first two in the series. I wish, however, that Franklin had not added the very last paragraph. I won’t give away the content of the paragraph or even go into detail about why it jarred me so, but I would be very interested to hear other reactions!
For a writer, I don’t actually write much about writing here, do I?
For me, writing a book is like making piecrust. (Mmmm, pie.) One must pay attention to what one is doing and pull it together with a light hand. Work it too much, and it gets tough and gray. Give it to someone else to play with, and it may turn out to be mince instead of apple. Take it out of the oven every few minutes to see what it looks like, and it will never be more than half-baked.
So although I am in the very early stages of working on a new project, I won’t be writing about it in much detail. It’s also set in the sixteenth century. It also features some historical personages and some fictional characters. It also combines elements of mystery, adventure, romance, character study, fabulous food and magnificent costumery, palace intrigue and sudden death.
Or as I like to call it—historical fiction with sprinkles.