Getting Medieval

2009 in Review

Looking back over 2009 I see that it wasn't all that bad a year. It began with the continuing promotion of 2008's Veil of Lies, the first in my series of Crispin Guest Medieval Noir novels. It was also the year that I got word that Veil was nominated first for a Macavity--the Sue Feder Memorial Historical Fiction award--and then, to my very great surprise and pleasure, it was also nominated for a Shamus Award for the Best First PI Novel, the first medieval mystery to be so honored. I didn't win either award, but the truth of it is, that I was wonderfully pleased to be nominated for both. It showed me that my long years of laboring to get published weren't for nothing and that people--and in the latter case, my peers--really did like the book!

2009 also saw the release of Veil in paperback, and with that release and the release of the second Crispin Guest, Serpent in the Thorns, we saw the evolution of the new book covers, a style that was something of what I was looking for in the first place; something different that focused on my protagonist rather than some symbolic and subtle cover. This is medieval pulp, dammit, and I wanted something more mysterious to draw in the readers. Also, Crispin is a sexy beast and that, too, came out in the book covers.

I also learned that when you have two books out in a series, you seem to continue to sell more of the first than the second because no one wants to start a series in the middle. I hope that Serpent catches up.

I did some traveling, too. In March, I headed out to Hawaii for the first time for the mystery fan convention Left Coast Crime and made a friend out of the former passing acquaintence of Sue Ann Jaffarian, who, novice that I was, told me a little of some of the ups and downs of the publishing industry while we waited for our plane at LAX. She is a multi-published author, very talented, and a helluva nice lady. I learned, for instance, that my promotional debt was right on target for my first book. Good to know as I slowly pay down those credit cards...for the next ten years! Yikes!

And later in the year, we had another incredible book launch for Serpent in the Thorns at Vroman's Bookstore in Pasadena. After that I was bound for another mystery fan convention, Bouchercon, in Indianapolis where I had my own mini book tour. I fell in love with the area and have no qualms about going back, though, right about now, it's probably pretty covered in snow, and this California girl doesn't know how she'd handle that!

I also continued my stint as the newsletter editor and member of the board of directors for the Southern California chapter of Mystery Writers of America; I blinked and was elected president for the Orange County Chapter of Sisters in Crime, and I designed the program for the joint Los Angeles Sisters in Crime and MWA California Crime Writers Conference.   

This year, I also hired Two Rock Media to put together a fabulous booktrailer. See it here.

I also signed a two book deal with St. Martin's Minotaur for two more Crispin Guest novels! The Demon's Parchment will be released in the fall of 2010, and Troubled Bones will be released in the fall of 2011. God willing, there will be plenty more Crispin novels coming to a bookstore near you!

In between, I went to a myriad of speaking and signing engagements, including Dana Point, the Huntington Beach Library Valentine's Tea, Laguna Beach Literary Luncheon, the Brandeis Author and Boutique Luncheon in Palm Springs, Shannon Center at Whittier College, Manhattan Beach Library, Los Angeles Times Festival of Books, El Camino Real High Shcool Literary Fair in Woodland Hills, Placentia Library, Young Writers Tea at E. Hale Curran Middle School in Murrieta, El Segundo Library, Upland Library, Writer's Night at the Epicenter with a baseball game (watching, not playing, thank God!), History Center Barn in Temecula, Aliso Viejo Liabrary, moderated an hisotrical mystery panel for Sisters in Crime Los Angeles, Whittier College Woman's Club, Mystery Matters Live radio interview, West Hollywood Book Fair, book tour in Arizona, Soroptomists of Placentia, San Diego Mystery Book Club, and numerous bookstores. Thank you all for inviting me! It was a busy year and I hope 2010 will prove just as busy.

It's also a year where e-books really made it to the mainstream markets, where authors scrambled to figure out how they could stay in the game and worried about making sure they get their due from all these digital happenings. We saw a major industry magazine, Kirkus Review, get bought and closed. Books on cell phones, books on Kindle, books on Sony e-reader...Where will it lead? What will change in the industry as the years go on? Will writers get their due or will they see advances dwindle with the rewriting of boilerplate contracts? All I know is that the times they are a changin' and authors have to stay on top of it to make it in the marketplace. I'm bracing myself for the misty path ahead.  

Medieval Mince Pie

This holiday season I went in search of an English medieval minced pie recipe. It seems there is no definitive recipe for this. I imagine that with most recipes of this kind, it involved whatever the cook had on hand. But the original medieval recipes included meat--actual minced meat--in their recipes. Was this a main course or was it dessert--or both? Well, it's certainly hearty. I took a combination of recipes and ingredients from multiple sources. I hope you like the result. (This is my pie to the left)

Medieval Mince Pie

1 lb boiled beef, lean, and pulled apart into fine strings(I made the mistake of not boiling it long enough, so that my beef was chunky. This will take a few hours, or all day in a crock pot.)

4 tart green apples, seeded and cut into bite-sized cubes (I'm not certain that original recipes contained apples, but apples seem to go back a long way in minced pie recipes so go ahead and add them.)

1/4 lb or more suet (I just asked my butcher for 1/4 lb of beef fat, which he gave me for free. Cut it into small pieces and throw them in your food processor. Process to fine granules.)

1 box seedless raisins

1 box of currants

1-2 citrons or lemons, cut up into very small pieces

1/2 cup brown sugar

1/4 cup molasses

1/2 cup cider

pinch of salt  

black pepper

1-2 Tb mace

1-2 Tb allspice

1-2 Tb nutmeg

1-2 Tb cloves

4 Tb cinnamon

1/2 cup Brandy

1/2 cup Madeira or Marsala wine

In a big pot or Dutch oven, cook the beef fat until rendered. Mix all other ingredients together except for brandy and wine and pour into pot with crispy and rendered fat and cook down. After it's cooked down for a bit, let it cool and then add brandy and wine.

In the meantime, prepare a good lard pastry dough (I put mine in a Wilton 10 x 3 pan). Place the dough in the bottom, pour in the cooled minced meat, and cover with more pastry. I folded the edges down till they were about halfway down in the pan, and crimped the edges. I cut some fancy swirls on top with a very sharp knife and gave it an egg and milk wash. Bake it at 350 for 45 minutes. After it cools for a bit on a rack, I was able to turn it out of the pan to put it on a presentation plate. Good cold or warm. Serves a small army.

By the way, I've got a blog post about mead coming up on Gillian Pollack's blog. She's an historian on things medieval with a particular interest in the history of food. Should be an interesting place. See it here.

The Iceman Cometh

I have a new hero and his name is Bob Eckstein. Why? Well, let me back up a bit.

I'm coming out of the closet. I have been a friend of Frosty since I was a little kid. In fact, I used to carry an inflatible Frosty the Snowman around like other kids toted Teddy Bears. Why a snowman? I don't know. Something in that song spoke to me; it's magic, this friend who didn't judge. Frosty saved my childhood. And so, I started collecting snowmen early on. Oh, it was a secret pastime. No, I wasn't ashamed of it, but I didn't think there were others out there like me, people who had a deep, abiding love for snowmen. It wasn't cool (so to speak). It just wasn't discussed in polite company. Sure, the Pillsbury doughboy was a socially acceptable surrogate, but just not the real thing.

But Bob Eckstein has literally written the book on snowmen. The History of the Snowman, to be exact. A keen book on the subject that I am itching to get into my hot little hand (hope I don't melt it). But in the meantime, he has the best ever blog on the subject with cool pictures and nifty info, a place others like me can feel safe and secure. Go there. Go now!

And also buy his book!

Do you suppose there are medieval snowmen? I would like to know.

I have to say one more thing. I loved that Little Golden Book of Frosty the Snowman, the one with the song lyrics to the 1950 Gene Autry hit, with it's Dick and Jane illustrations. That was a sacred text to me growing up. When Rankin Bass made that ghastly cartoon of it, I was beside myself with ire. Someone needs to make a new one, something watchable that snowman lovers like me would be proud to watch. Something far more venerable than that excreble cartoon. (Can you tell I dislike it?) Get back to me on that.

Medieval Christmas

And so we also dust off the Medieval Christmas post.

Medieval Christmas. What images are conjured for you? A roaring yule log in the hearth, perhaps? Velvet-gowned ladies stringing garlands of greenery over doorways? Pretty close.

There was no commercialism associated with Christmas as yet. These were a people consumed by their faith with the other side of the coin being a fear of the unknown with a hearty superstition of same. This was, therefore, a sacred time of year. As with most seasons, they were dominated by the Church’s liturgical calendar. Advent, the period before Christmas, is a penitential season leading up to the feast of Christ’s birth, or Christ-mas. It was also referred to by an early pagan and later Anglo-Saxon term of “Yule”, though the exact origins of the word seem murky. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, “the modern form descends from Old English eól, Christmas day or Christmastide.” Apparently, in the older sense, it also meant December (se rra eóla) or January (se æftera eóla). In Old Norse we have jól, a heathen feast lasting twelve days, and also iuli, recorded by the Venerable Bede, again, as the name of December and January.

In a penitential season, certain foods are not allowed. You are supposed to be deprived so that you concentrate on other-worldly matters. Sometimes this worked. Sometimes not. That’s why the anticipated feast was such a celebration. The wealthy would have a boar’s head for the table. Mmm. Your middle class merchant would have a roast goose. (Funny how things change. I just looked at my grocer’s the other day, and a frozen goose was over $60 bucks! Not exactly middle class fare.) Turkeys were New World birds and wouldn’t be imported to the English table until Henry VIII’s day. Plenty of other meats, fish, fowl, and cheeses would be part of the table as well (vegetables and salads were not tops on the list. They would likely end up in pottage and tarts).

Festive greenery was brought in as part of the pagan tradition of the winter solstice to chase away the drabs of a cold and dead season, hence evergreens began their transformation to a Christian symbol of eternity and life. But no Christmas trees yet. That was much later—a German tradition—that was brought to England by Queen Victoria to please her consort, the German Prince Albert. But garlands of evergreens and even the tradition of mistletoe was utilized indoors, as well as the Yule log, a chunk of wood brought in with much ceremony and then the burning of it (there are a lot of “fire” rituals in England, including any excuse to have a bonfire. The fact that it’s bloody cold in the winter was, no doubt, a factor, but there are plenty of summer bonfires as well. Every little village, it seems, has its own bonfire celebration. Look, they just like fire.) Since mistletoe blooms at the winter solstice it became an early Druid symbol of the promise of renewal and eternity, and later commandeered by Christians as a symbol of rebirth. The kissing part is Scandinavian and stemmed from men-at-arms meeting in the woods and laying down their weapons as a sign of peace under the sacred plant. This became a kiss of peace and then transferred toEngland as a part of the Christmas tradition since the English were the only ones to regularly bring mistletoe inside.

Were presents exchanged? Not as such. Gift-giving is a modern event. December 6th, the feast of Saint Nicholas the Bishop, and his secret and charitable giving, became associated with the feast of Christ’s birth and then the idea of the wise men presenting gifts to the baby Jesus perpetuated this idea of gift-giving. Prior to that in ancient Rome, gifts were given to the emperor on the feast of the birth of the Sun God, which happens at the winter solstice. When the date of Christmas was changed to the winter solstice in the fourth century, it was no coincidence that the Christians wished to gather in the pagan beliefs and overtake them. The birth of the Sun became the birth of the Son.

In the Middle Ages, since this was a special feast, the king, his noblemen, and even craftsmen and merchants would give coins to their servants and apprentices—a traditional gift, good for all occasions as it is today—to show how charitable they were. And, of course, the day after Christmas, Saint Stephen's Feast Day (the first Christian martyr) or Boxing Day, as it is known in England, was the day the alms boxes were opened and distributed to the poor.

Wassail is also a tradition in these cold months. “Wassail” is an Anglo-Saxon toast, wæs þu hæl, "be thou hale.” When we think of wassail we think of a hot, spiced fruit punch, like apple cider, but it was really a hot, spiced ale or mead.

The feast days continued until Twelfth Night (the twelve days of Christmas. They come after Christmas, not before.) Twelfth Night is the feast of Epiphany, when the wise men came to Jesus as the first non-Jewish witnesses, or the Adoration of the Magi. It is also the end of the Christmas season.

Medieval Hanukkah

Yes, you've seen this before. Like heirloom decorations, this post will be dusted off and pasted on the wall each year (why re-invent the wheel?)

Growing up Jewish in a Christian America was sometimes trying, especially when my family was of the reformed variety. Christmas couldn't be avoided. It was everywhere in shops, on television in the children's fare of "A Charlie Brown Christmas" and "Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer", and on the radio with Christmas carols bombarding the airwaves. Little wonder the little Jewish girl comes to look on at Christmas with brightly shining eyes.

But it was the Dickens Christmas of roast goose and wide-skirted carolers; Father Christmas and plum pudding (of which I had never partaken), that captured my imagination.

Hanukkah, the Jewish festival of lights that rolled around usually at the same time as Christmas, just couldn't hold a candle. Er... But it is a holiday with many meanings and expresses many events at once. The medieval Jew embraced it: the idea of the smaller army of Jews rising up to conquer their gentile oppressors. Always a popular theme with Jews in Europe when they were ousted from so many places as they had been in the Holy Land. They related.

Given that this is a holiday with no biblical source (the Books of Maccabees where at least part of the Hanukkah celebrations can be found, are listed in Christian bibles, which are apocryphal to Jews and not considered part of the canon), there was a clash between those rabbis who followed oral rabbinic traditions and those that were strictly biblical. (The same clash occurs between Protestants and Catholics regarding traditions with a small "t" and Traditions with a large "T". In the Last Supper, for instance, where the gospels say that Jesus is reclining at table is a perfect example of the importance of following tradition with a small "t". Biblical commandments in Exodus have God exhorting Moses to instruct the people to eat their Passover standing up as a people in flight, ready to high-tail it when the time is right. But sometime between the time of Moses and the time of Jesus, Jewish tradition changed to the partaking of the Passover in a reclining position. As it says in the Haggadah [the prayer book used during the Passover Seder] the Egyptian Hebrews stood to eat just as a slave stands to eat in the presence of his master. But to recline is to exclaim one's freedom. Thus Jesus, as a good Jewish boy, follows Jewish tradition rather than God's biblical command.)

The source for Hanukkah, or the Dedicating of the Temple, comes from something called the Megillit Antiochus or the Scroll of Antioch, dating from somewhere between the 2nd and 5th centuries AD (there's more on that at the Jewish Encyclopedia.) The Books of Maccabees talks about a re-dedication of the Temple by Judah Maccabee, his brothers, and his army, but never specifically mentions a miracle, only that the celebration should last for eight days, which, indeed, most Jewish holidays do. (In Jewish numerology, Seven is the perfect number: seven days of creation. But the number eight--God--is beyond perfect. Eight days old a boy is circumcised and brought into the covenant. Eight days for most Jewish celebrations.) It is this scroll that gives us the story of the miracle of the oil.

The Story: Around 175 BCE, Antiochus IV Epiphanes King of Greek Syria and other places, ruled over the Jews and outlawed Judaism, ordering a statue of Zeus to be erected in the temple. The Maccabees revolted, won, and worked to reconsecrate the Temple, getting all that nasty gentile stuff out of there, building a new altar, etc. In order for the re-dedication to be complete, the menorah or candelabrum or multi-burning oil lamp was to burn for seven nights, but there was only enough consecrated oil to burn for one day and there was no time to get more. But it miraculously burned for eight days. Thus the eight day celebration.

In the middle ages, the Megillit Antiochus was read aloud in synagogues much as Purim was celebrated, another rabbinically declared holiday and another tale about Jews rising up against their oppressors. Jews reenacted the lighting of a menorah in the synagogues as well as in their homes. The proper way to light a menorah is to have it in a doorway. Not quite practical, so the next best thing is to have it in a window, fulfilling the rabbis decree to show the miracle to the world (which is why there are all those public displays of menorah lighting. It is NOT the Jewish answer to a public lighting of a Christmas tree. If anything, it's the other way around.)

Though for all that, Hanukkah was never a huge holiday. It was just one of many. Certainly not a High Holy Day like Rosh Hashonnah (Jewish New Year) or Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement). It was another reminder to Jews of God's miracles and His dedication to the Chosen People no matter where they found themselves and under what circumstances. The tradition of giving a gift for each day of the holiday is more a reflection of their Christian neighbors during a gift-giving season than part of any older tradition.

The Eastern European tradition of eating foods cooked in oil, however, can be more gratifying if not cholesterol building. Because it is a feast of oil burning, foods such as latkes (potato pancakes) and donuts are part of the fare. Can't knock that. Playing the dreidel is supposed to be a reflection of a game that the Maccabees played while waiting to attack their enemies. It's like dice. It's a gambling game.

Incidentally, you haven't miscounted when you see a menorah and wonder why it has nine places for candles instead of only eight. The center place is for the shamash or helper candle. It merely lights the other ones.

So next time you see a menorah and hear about Hanukkah, don't do what my Christian contemporaries did when I was a child (and still hear on occasion); don't compliment the Jew on "their Christmas". Appreciate it on its own level, its ancient and varied traditions. And have a latke. They're tasty.

Title Change

It happens. Sometimes a title just doesn't work for a book or, in this case, it's too close to another work.

My next Crispin Guest Medieval Noir was to be titled A Conspiracy of Parchment, a nod to another fine historical called A Conspiracy of Paper. Though the books aren't the same in any way--different centuries, different plots--it was felt it was too close for comfort. So, after working with my fellow Sisters in Crime, I got some help and opinions on the new title: The Demon's Parchment. Enigmatic, I hope.

It's a Wonderful Life in L.A.

The Los Angeles Conservancy is a great organization. It was started to preserve the historic Los Angeles library downtown, a library I haunted as a child and appreciated even then. But we went downtown to go to the Million Dollar Theater to see the 1947 movie It's A Wonderful Life. I don't get to do this very often, go see an old movie in a theater with an audience, but if you've never done it, you definitely should. I don't know how many hundreds of times I've seen this movie, but with a live audience, you get a whole new feel. There were even folks in the theatre who had never seen it. You could tell by their reactions. The funny lines were funnier, the pathos was sadder. But the only thing that didn't seem to hold up to the test of time was when Clarence the Angel declared that poor old Mary had ended up an old maid! And--horrors--was a LIBRARIAN to boot! That one got hoots of laughter. Probably a lot of librarians in the place.

But let me back up. There was a lot going on.

We arrived downtown on a sleepy Sunday. The Million Dollar Theater was built in 1918 with all the Spanish rococo flourishes expected from the era. It was, as they say, a movie palace! With a long arcing balcony and some 2345 seats originally, it was one of the largest theatres in the country built exclusively to show movies. L.A. is full of great old buildings like this, great little pockets of architecture. Behind is Bunker Hill, which used to be home to fabulous mansions in the late 1800's (and you can still see a few of them hauled lock, stock, and ornate barrel beside the Pasadena Freeway on your route to Pasadena) but is now bludgoened by the blight of a 1960's rambling apartment complex. Angel's Flight, a very short funicular railway, used to be the cheap way to get up and down the steep hill. Though the original railway was dismantled despite years of groups trying to preserve it, it was finally restored and rededicated in 1996, making a few flights up and down today.

Across from the Million Dollar Theater is the infamous Bradbury Building. Built in 1893, it's unique interior was inspired by a work of science fiction; how buildings would look in the year 2000! The interior is a gorgeous play of ironwork and skylight. Galleries, wood, terracotta friezes, two open ironwork elevators, marble--it's an amazing interior. And naturally enough, it's been used in the movies a fair few times, including Blade Runner, Double Indemnity, and D.O.A.    

Broadway between 4th and 7th is now host to a mostly Hispanic population and the storefronts reflect that, as well as Grand Central Market, with it's aromas of Mexican food and Asian cookery vying for dominance. We almost stopped there to eat but we got a 10% discount to eat at the historic Clifton's Cafeteria and that's another place I'd always heard of but never got a chance to go to.

Down the street we went. Built in 1931, this Cafeteria has seen five generations keep it alive. Inside, you are whisked to the Santa Cruz mountains with forest murals painted by L.A. muralist Einar Petersen; a brook running through with a waterfall; "redwood" tree pillars hold up the roof; a moose stands guard over diners from above, and diners sit up and around a forest chalet. Yup. It's all California!  

After lunch, we strolled and shopped. One shop in particular caught my eye. It's window shelves were stocked with plastic and plaster saints and it could have been just another Catholic paraphenalia store...except for the statues of Death. In all sizes. Well, I had to go in there and get one. It's not everyday a person like me can buy death on the street.

As we look around, we begin to sense that this is not for Catholics much. Odd shaped candles for rituals, including a penis-shaped candle, and lots of stuff in the "pharmacy" area that looked suspicious. But I wanted my death statue, so the fellow behind the counter was friendly and most helpful. In fact, when I made my choice of the many little statues, he pulled back a red curtain and showed me a much bigger statue of Death with candles and a prie-dieu. If I felt like praying, I was free to do so. I didn't.

We just assumed we were in a Santeria shop, that blend of West African, Caribbean, and Catholic religion invlovling sacrificing chickens. But when I looked at the L.A. Times the next day, there just happened to be an article about this fellow--gal, really--Santa Muerte (Holy Death).

You can find anything in L.A. That's why I love it so much! It's a wonderful town.

More shots of downtown. Yeah, I was pretending to be a tourist.

Grand Central Market.

A view of some of the great old architecture down Broadway.

If you had any doubts, the sign told you.

More old theaters per capita. Unfortunately, most are only husks of what they once were.