In which it is All Hallows' Eve!

And rather than write a Halloween post, I wanted to offer you instead something about El Dia de Los Muertos, the Day of the Dead. The Interiority Complex has a wonderful entry about ofrendas, the altars that are created to mark the lives of those who have passed on. One of my favorite memories of living in Texas is the beautiful ofrendas at Mi Tierra, the spectacular Tex-Mex restaurant in downtown San Antonio. (The food is superb and the decor is flat-out fun. If you're ever in San Antonio, GO.)

Anyway, to celebrate El Dia de Los Muertos, Mi Tierra constructs a few amazing ofrendas. I used to make a point of going downtown to see them and sometimes used them as inspiration for my own ofrenda. I am not Hispanic myself, but I freely borrow some of the traditions, particularly regarding this day. The dead are remembered with love and gratitude and joy, with altars heaped with special tokens--favorite foods, candles, sweets, paper flowers, pictures, and "dead bread", pan de los muertos. It is sometimes flavored with anise, sometimes not, it can be baked in the shape of a skeleton or even a loved one. My favorite Dia de Los Muertos was the year my daughter and I made a bread to commemorate my grandmother. We placed it on a pretty tray with candles, flowers, and some of her favorite foods, and it marked a turning point in my grieving for her.

El Dia de Los Muertos is grand and over-the-top in a wonderfully gruesome way. It is affectionate and loving, and I think, a very healthy way to remember those you've lost.

In which we're still talking to readers

Reader Elizabeth posted the following query: A question I'd like to ask has to do with the fourteen years of writing before you were published: Did anyone outside of your immediate family know what you were doing, or did you not talk about it but save it for the page? I'm wondering if you did tell people you were writing if they were supportive or if they had more "we'll believe it when we see it" type of remarks, and how you handled that.

Elizabeth, very few people knew what I was doing for a number of reasons. First, there is a tendency for people to stare at you blankly when you say you are writing a novel. It's like you're admitting to doing something unseemly and faintly scandalous. They don't quite know how to respond, and so they often don't. They furrow their brows and turn away. It's disheartening.

Second, I've gone on record as saying that the less I talk about my writing, the better it is. (And once again, what works for me is what works for me. Other people might find it terribly restrictive.) But as I said during the interview last week, you have one chance to tell your story the first time. ONE. And if you discuss the particulars with people, you are dulling your own enthusiasm whether you realize it or not. You should be bursting to get the story on the page, and if you have discussed it, somewhere in your subconscious, your creativity is registering the fact that you have already told it.

For me, it was just easier to keep my projects to myself until I was published. A few friends in Texas knew I was writing, but no one in Virginia knew until I had a publishing deal. It was so much simpler to present it as a fait accompli!

As for rudeness, it happens, and it happens to me still. I get a fair number of folks who say things like, "Oh, I've always meant to write a book, I just don't have time." These are people to whom we do not speak any longer than necessary because they just don't get it. (I will confess that I have OCCASIONALLY replied, "Yes, and I thought I'd take up a bit of cardiothoracic transplant surgery on weekends, but who can find the time?" It isn't nice and I don't recommend it, although it feels divine.) Most people are not intentionally unkind, I think. They just honestly don't have the vaguest notion of what it is like to write a book. Getting myself away from rude folks as quickly as possible is the best remedy.

In which I'm answering reader questions

A few of you have left questions you didn't get a chance to ask during last week's radio interview, so here goes!

Reader Dan included the following in his email and my answers are in italics:

1. I still miss Emma, the yellow wonder dog. Me too. But Deacon is a sweetheart, and a most excellent furry companion.
2. Since Hector is more in my age bracket, I can identify with him and wish you'd put a little spice into his life, if just for a paragraph or two. Hector is going to be pretty prominent in the fifth Julia Grey book--hang on!
3. Loved the "twist" you pulled with Lucy, Emma, and Sir. Cedrick. Why thank you--it was a difficult book to write, but it's one of my favorites.
4. Would like to see a map in one of your books showing where everyone lived in relation to each other and the London landmarks. I made one for my own use when I first started working on Silent in the Grave. That would make a great addition to the website--I just have to find a freelance cartographer!
5. When everyone took the train to Yorkshire, what station did they leave from? I used a railway map from the time and charted out a journey for them that would have taken them into the West Riding out of Euston Station. Alternatively, I could have taken them into York and then turned them west on branch lines. The distance would have been about the same, but I liked the less expected route. The Marches seldom do the conventional!
6. Would like to see Val and Dr.Bent explore some of the medical developments that were taking place in the Victorian Era. Doctors--or medical students, midwives, Gypsy healers, etc.--are all entirely useful characters because they can provide medical information that a layman might not know. But I am careful in how I use them for a variety of reasons. First, the medical issues take a tremendous amount of time and research to make sure that not only do I understand the science behind them but that I understand them in their historical context. Second, it is very easy to let the medical details take over and for every reader who loves the medical stuff, there's another who doesn't!

In which it's one of my favorite weeks of the year

Oh, how I love Halloween! It's always been one of my favorite holidays as a kid, but since I've grown up, it's taken on even more significance because it is so closely followed by El Dia de Los Muertos, the day to remember those who have passed on. (More on this later in the week!) I adore everything about Halloween, from the surfeit of spooky decorations to the magazines packed with recipes for cheeseballs with googly eyes. And one of my favorite things about Halloween is the chance to watch endless spooky shows on television--the classic old horror films, cheesy Hammer movies, ghost-hunting programs--I love it all, and my tivo is about to burn up. (I should point out that I am a major wimp and do not do modern horror films or slasher movies at ALL. I only watched "Halloween" last year for the first time after I read that it actually doesn't include too much gore. Of course, I also sat through "300" without turning a hair, so I am nothing if not inconsistent.)

Anyway, the best things I've seen so far this week are: "Ghost Stories", featuring the Villisca Ax Murder House. It's a Travel Channel series that features some of the most chilling sites in the country. Now, I admit I've only had a chance to see the episode highlighting the unsolved 1912 murders in Villisca, but since it's a case I'm fascinated by, I thoroughly enjoyed it, not least for the nicely atmospheric credits. The story itself is shocking--an entire family butchered by an ax murderer as they slept--and it's particularly affecting to see the footage filmed in the house which has been restored to its 1912 condition. I know there is a fair bit of controversy over whether the house is actually haunted, but I don't really care. As a crime scene alone, it's compelling. It's also being repeated a few times this week on the Travel Channel, so check the listings.

My favorite horror movie, hands down, is Vampyr: Der Traum des Allan Grey. TCM shows it at least once each Halloween season, and it is WELL worth watching. You might want to google it first and read up on the plot because I will be the first to admit it's a bit difficult to follow. It was shot in 1930 and is eerily beautiful. The cinematography is dreamy thanks to the film having been shot through a layer of gauze, and the effect is otherworldly. Film lore says that the actors actually stayed in the crumbling castle setting for the duration of the shoot, and it is interesting to note that aside from two professional actors, the rest of the cast is comprised of amateurs cast for their looks. There is little dialogue, and honestly, following the plot doggedly is not the point. This is one of those films that is far more about the journey, so settle in with a nice glass of blood-red wine and prepare to enjoy the slow, measured pace.

In which Deacon says hi

Actually, he makes more of an "Oh, hai" face. He's a lolpup. Regardless, this is our boy at seven months, already weighing almost exactly what we were told he'd weigh fully grown. Doomed.

In which you might have missed the radio show

Or you might have had a question that didn't get asked--so sorry there was no opportunity! But you can ask here. Just leave your questions down in the comments and I'll start answering them this week. If you want to check out Anjuelle Floyd's writing blog or listen to the show--she has a link on her blog--here you go. I had a great time chatting with her, and she's been kind enough to invite me back for the release of The Dead Travel Fast!

Since I'm on a deadline and winding up the first draft of the next Julia Grey book, I am writing a few blog entries ahead of time and will start answering reader questions toward the end of the week. If you've already e-mailed me a question, I will answer it here unless you request otherwise. Thanks!

In which I'm on the radio

This afternoon with Anjuelle Floyd's Book Talk, Creativity, and Family Matters--don't forget! Here's the show link again, and you can phone in to (347) 215-7740 to ask questions. The show starts at 12:00pm Pacific (3pm Eastern), so come visit with us!

In which I'm being haunted

So our ghosts are getting noisier--either that or I'm developing some sort of hallucinatory disorder because as I write this I'm alone in the house, television is off, no one is near the house, and I can hear faint conversations. (I already thought it might be the radiant heaters, but they're turned off...) I suppose it's fitting as we near Halloween that our resident haints--that's Southern for "ghosts"--might be getting up to mischief. A few weeks back I found an initial scratched into the kitchen chalkboard that I use for keeping grocery lists. We have jokingly called our female ghost Petrella because that is the name of the woman who owned the house in the 1950s and the only person ever to claim to see a ghost in our house described her as dressed in that style. And the letter I found etched into the chalkboard? A "P", of course. It does make you wonder...

In which I'm on the radio!

Blogtalkradio, to be specific. The ever-gracious Anjuelle Floyd has invited me to be a guest this Saturday, October 24 on her show, Book Talk, Creativity, and Family Matters. You can check out the show link here, and best of all, you can phone in and chat! Call and ask questions about the writing process, the series, your favorite characters--just give us a ring at (347) 215-7740. I'll be with Anjuelle from 12:00pm Pacific(1:00pm Mountain, 2:00pm Central, 3:00pm Eastern) for an hour to chat about the writerly life, so please come join us.

In which I am Scottish

Like most Americans, my genes are a hearty stew of whatever bits and bobs Europe and the Americas had to offer, but the better part of my heritage is Scottish. I adore Scotland. I have visited twice and would go again tomorrow if I could; in fact, I probably OUGHT to because I plan to set a book there soon...I digress. I have a tendency to romanticize Scotland, but then don't we all? And in my mind's eye, when I think of Scotland, I am roaming the heathered hills wearing clothes like these. I discovered Sandra Murray thanks to the delicious blog written by the ever-luminous Alessandra at Gypsy Girl's Guide. Alessandra is a regular source of inspiration, so much so that sometimes I have to click away and save part of a blog entry for later because she has given me just too much to think about at one time and I want to process it. I am still gutted that our schedules didn't work out for us to meet up the last time I was in San Francisco because she is at the top of my list of people whose necks must be hugged.

In which we love to read

but not everyone does, and some of them are terribly creative. Reader Elizabeth sent me a link to this entry from Offbeat Earth that features all sorts of interesting ideas of what to do with your unwanted books. Furniture, sculpture, art--whatever you like, although I have to think the book chair might be the slightest bit uncomfortable and perhaps better suited to viewing than sitting. But it's all impressive, and now I find I'm looking at my stack of books to be donated with different eyes. All I need is an X-acto knife and some glue...

In which I love my readers

Reader Maggie sent along a link to Daily Lit last week--a site that offers e-mail installments of books. In particular, she was directing me to a project that Daily Lit has undertaken with the Victoria and Albert Museum, one of my favorite places in the WORLD. Called Shoes, Bags, and Tiaras, it offers a peek into the superbly extensive V&A collections. I can't think of anything lovelier to get in your email inbox. Big thanks, Maggie!

In which we get foody

One of the things I love most about my friend Jerusha--besides the fact that she is a fearfully accomplished knitter--is her utter unfamiliarity with the kitchen. When a group of us were having a girls' weekend house party, we did not trust her to boil water. And when I say she cannot cook, I mean it literally. She has NO STOVE. What she does have is an interest in food and a familiarity with more cooking shows and culinary blogs than I will ever know about. There is not a food site I have ever linked to that she didn't know about first, and quite a few I learned of from her. One of them is Cooking with Trader Joe's. (If you don't have a Trader Joe's near you, do NOT click on that link. It will sadden you and make you want to download emo songs on itunes.) If, however, you are lucky enough to have a Trader Joe's within driving distance--and it's worth some serious driving--click on, my friends, and get excited. I've tried loads of Trader Joe's things, the vast majority of which have been delicious, but the blog is a wonderful inducement to be even more adventurous and try things I might have otherwise passed by. And, mercifully, most of the recipes only demand a handful of ingredients, perfect for a meal when you want to eat well but don't really feel like making much of an effort.

In which we observe the date

It is October 16, the anniversary of Marie Antoinette's execution in 1793. Say what you like about her--and there is plenty to say--her reign was the last gasp of the ancien regime and when the guillotine fell, something beautiful and elegant was gone forever. (While we may deplore the disregard for the impoverished and the trampling of civil rights under the Bourbon monarchs, we can at least appreciate the traces of lavish beauty that remain. You simply cannot walk the halls of Versailles and fail to marvel at the sheer loveliness of the place and the artistry that went into maintaining the sovereign's status.)

So, in honor of the day, I plan to watch the 2006 film--not historically accurate, but a delicious visual confection. And for a little topical reading, I highly recommend Marie Antoinette's Gossip Guide to the 18th Century--a rich tapestry of a blog that has a little something for everyone.

In which we spend time with Jane Austen

And honestly, that is ALWAYS time well-spent. The Emma Adaptations Pages is a fascinating site devoted to arguably the least-likable of Austen's heroines. (Personally, I find Mansfield Park's Fanny to be almost unbearable, and I have always identified with Emma Woodhouse, perhaps a little TOO much.) Anyway, I love the devotion and tidiness of keeping a site reserved for the adaptations of a single book, and there are all sorts of goodies to while away your time. My favorite is the Austen Heroines Quiz. I ended up as Elizabeth Bennett, which quite surprised me. Who are you?

In which I am so happy

I am a devotee of Jack Rogers Navajo sandals--they are chic, simple, and they smell divine when you first open the box. I first saw them in a photo of Jackie Kennedy taken when she was on holiday in the Mediterranean in the 1960s. I tracked them down online and was thrilled to see that they looked just as fresh and modern. They come in an amazing number of colorways and I have them in white with white stitching and black with white stitching--versatile and easy and so much more stylish than plain flip-flops. They work beautifully with skirts, dresses, capris, and they last forever. I was thrilled to find this week that Jack Rogers has now launched their very own website! Contemplating my next pair...

And thanks for the comments and e-mails about the darling girlchild--she came through beautifully!

In which I am not here today

I'm here, but not really. Today my darling child has to have two teeth pulled and I am in full-on crazy mother mode. (A few years ago, during my first book tour, a friend in Tennessee gave me a purse flask. I may be drive to actually use it today. Okay, not really, but I am going to be doing a lot of meditation and mindful breathing and will hope that helps take the edge off.)

Anyway, any good thoughts you would care to send our way today would be very much appreciated. And to give something entirely frivolous, I offer the quiz, Could You Survive a Zombie Attack? Because really, it's just good sense to be prepared.

In which I relate my weekend tales of woe

That actually turned out rather well. First, on Friday night I decided to try the chicken breast recipe from Chow. Well, the chicken itself was fabulous, but it is an excessively poor idea to put a frying pan in the oven at 450 degrees for half an hour, take it out, and then GRAB THE HANDLE WITH YOUR BARE HAND. I am amazed the word T-Fal is not permanently emblazoned on my skin. Mercifully, my kitchen is small, so I had the hand under cold water before the last obscenity was out of my mouth. I then slathered it in tea tree oil and took two acetaminophen. The only way to describe it is to say that it felt like someone had taken a vegetable peeler and flayed off the top layer of skin, but eventually the pain stopped and although it was still a little tender Saturday, on Sunday there wasn't the slightest trace of what had happened. I am awed by the power of tea tree oil and honestly a little surprised there isn't a cult devoted to its worship somewhere.

Saturday I had another tale of woe--flu shots. I tried for the better part of a week to organize flu shots for the family, calling doctors, pharmacies, drugstores, and anybody else who might have a little vaccine lying around. I got the most insane responses from people who have absolutely no business talking for a living. (The pediatrician's receptionist, for example, who said, "Oh, yeah, H1N1. I don't know anything about when we're getting that. And I mean, we'll probably only get like one vial or something.")

I soon gave up on the idea of H1N1 and realized that just getting seasonal flu shots was going to be a miracle. Three different times I had pharmacies give me one story, then a completely different one when I called back. The latest was the grocery store pharmacy I called Friday when I was told that Saturday afternoon would be the flu clinic hours that week. And when we arrived Saturday? Oh, too bad. The clinic was on Friday, so sorry you missed it. At that point I threw myself on the mercy of kindly pharmacist who first said he had no vaccine left, then admitted he had four doses, but no needles to attach to them.

I must have put my Oliver Twist face on at that point because he said, "Let me see what I can do", and left us for 45 minutes. When he came back, he had drawn the vaccine out of the pre-loaded vials into syringes and prepared four flu shots by hand. I could have cried. Honestly, to have someone go that far beyond what he has to do just to be nice was a very lovely end to an extremely frustrating process. So, we are all vaccine'd up--yeah, I just made that up--and now I get to start all over again in a week or two looking for H1N1 shots...

In which you might still miss Domino magazine

If you do, you MUST try Lonny. It is an online decorating/lifestyle magazine that is absolutely divine. I confess, I was wary of the online format, but the features more than make up for the loss of tearsheets. (And I suppose you can print out anything you're desperate to keep for a decorating file.) Every feature is more wonderful than the last, and I am particularly smitten with the elegant black and white china in the bathroom--drop dead chic and so unexpected. If there are any online mags you follow, do drop the links into comments so I can see where you're spending your time!

(By happy coincidence, I wrote this Friday afternoon, put it in the queue to be published Saturday morning, and two hours later, darling reader Stephanie wrote to let me know about Lonny! Word is spreading, and I'm so glad--it's beautifully done and clearly a labor of love. And thanks, Stephanie!)

In which we ponder chores

So last night as I was unloading the dishwasher--not one of my usual jobs--it occurred to me how much I truly hate unloading the dishwasher. I don't mind loading it nearly as much, and then I realized I hate folding and putting away clean laundry, but have no problem sorting the dirty clothes and starting a load of washing. I don't mind washing dishes by hand, but ironing makes me violent, and I am perfectly happy to swish some cleanser around the toilet although cleaning the bathtub makes me want to go lie down with a cold compress and a colder martini. And dusting just enrages me for reasons I cannot begin to comprehend while the carpet sweeper amuses me. I find that aprons help, as do sponges in bright colors, riveting podcasts, hot pink rubber gloves, and cleansers by Method, Mrs. Meyer, and Bigelow in luscious herbal or citrus scents. So what about you? What household chores do you avoid like the proverbial plague and which ones do you secretly enjoy?

In which I forgive you

I know that someone amongst my readers has to have known about Chow and failed to tell me. I forgive you, but barely. I stumbled across the site yesterday when I was trying desperately to figure out what to do with some bone-in chicken breasts for supper. The recipes--at least the ones I found; I haven't had a chance to explore the whole glorious site yet--are not actually written as recipes. There's just technique, which appeals to me hugely since I fancy the sort of cooking that calls for a handful of this and a handful of that rather than a list of precisely-measured ingredients. I far prefer just to fling things into the pan and hope for the best. Naturally, I don't do this when I'm baking since baking is more akin to chemistry. But most cooking leaves a wide margin for variation, and I take full advantage of it. I will warn you, do NOT click that link if you have anything at all pressing to do right now because you won't want to leave...

In which we have book chat

Lately I have been on an Alexander McCall Smith kick. I read the first two Precious Ramotswe books when they first came out, and then somehow managed to get VERY behind in the series. I also managed to miss the series on television since I don't have HBO, but my local library purchased it on DVD, and OH MY. I spent the weekend watching the entire first season, and it is utterly charming. (I am particularly smitten with the moment in the first episode when a young Precious sits with a meerkat on her head. And I would really, really like a meerkat to sit on my head now.)

Anyway, the series was so well done, I pulled out my copy of The No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency and re-read it. My daughter is now hooked, and I have the entire stack of books waiting to be read. (I am thiiiiiis close to ordering brochures on trips to Botswana as well.) The series is actually filmed in Botswana, and it is wonderful, escapist television of the very best kind. The books are similar in sensibility to Jan Karon's Mitford series, although there is a simple, rhythmic cadence to the language that is entirely unique. (I am also a fan of his Isabel Dalhousie series, a very different premise that still manages to be completely engaging.)

In which we savor sin

It's time to talk about the last of the seven deadly sins--pride. The negative connotations of pride are many. You have to wait until the fourth definition on dictionary.com to find an entry that is positive. This strikes me as sad. Pride can be an extremely good motivator to do your best and present yourself as well as you possibly can. Pride is what keeps some of us from wearing our pajamas in public. (You know who you are. Sleep pants are NOT OUTERWEAR, people. And if you stop wearing them in public, I will stop pointing and laughing.) Pride is what makes us do what's difficult because we will know if we took a shortcut, even if no one else does.

Now, I am an admittedly gifted slacker. I know exactly where I can cut corners in life, and I do so with enthusiasm. But I also know what's important and where I have to give everything I've got, and those are the areas where I take a great deal of pride in what I've done because I've done it well--not because there is anything special about ME, but because there is something very special about effort.

So, I say today, let's crow just a little about what makes us feel good, about what we've done that we've done well. Fan those peacock tails and tell me what you have done that you are most proud of.

In which we'll talk sin tomorrow

Because I'm available for pre-order today!! The Dead Travel Fast is now available for pre-order from Amazon--so early they don't even have the cover yet! You can also contact your favorite independent bookseller via IndieBound and see if they are taking orders. WHEEEE!!

In which we talk real estate

Or just poke fun at other people's ill-considered real estate listings. I figured after all the Tudor-geek talk I forced on you yesterday, the least I could do was offer some frivolity today.

In which we talk books again

I know I mentioned Eric Ives' book--The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn--yesterday, but now that I've finished it, I can flog it properly. It is, quite simply, the best biography I have ever read on the subject, hands down. Until I read the Warnicke biography a few years back, I didn't realize how badly Anne Boleyn's reputation had been tarnished by history and that she had been a patroness of scholars and theologians. (She was, by many accounts, one of the best-educated queens in English history.)

Too many books try to paint her as either the semi-deformed whore who seduced Henry VIII with witchcraft and attempted to poison him or as the sainted martyr-mother of the Reformation. The truth, as it so often does, lies in between. Some surprising things that make this book compelling reading:

*Ives makes an excellent case--echoed in a few other books I've read recently--that Anne was not the catalyst for Henry's efforts to end his marriage to Katherine of Aragon. Based upon Katherine's checkered gynecological history and the fact that she had last conceived a child seven years previous, Henry hit upon the verse in Leviticus forbidding marriage with a brother's widow and began the preliminary moves to dissolve the marriage.

*According to Ives, Henry and Anne's relationship was a genuine love affair, begun as a piece of courtly love and then undertaken in earnest when Anne refused to consent to an illicit physical relationship. (This was not necessarily as calculated as it seems. By this time she had seen her elder sister--and Ives constructs an extremely plausible case for Mary being the elder Boleyn--cast aside when Henry's affections waned, leaving her with only marriage as an obscure courtier to show for it. Anne, by far the more ambitious of the two, had no incentive to agree to become Henry's mistress. Her initial reactions to his indecent proposals smack more of a girl trying to elude an importunate suitor than a schemer with her eyes fixed upon the throne.)

*Anne was eliminated by a palace coup led by Thomas Cromwell. They quarreled bitterly over what the king should do with the proceeds of the church property that fell under his control after the break with Rome. Anne, a generous patron and giver of alms, wanted the money for poor relief to aid the needy. Their quarrel came just when Cromwell had overstepped himself vastly in extending premature promises of amity to the Imperial ambassador. Mindful of the privy chamber cabal of Boleyns that had ousted Cardinal Wolsey, Cromwell struck before he could be stricken. He organised arrests and interrogations upon trumped-up charges and convinced the king that he had been duped and bewitched and was very lucky to escape with his life. (The strongest argument for a palace coup being at the heart of the attack upon Anne Boleyn is the result: by the time the bloody straw had been swept from the scaffold, the queen was dead, as were several members of the king's privy council who had occupied positions of power such as Groom of the Stool, and the rest of the Boleyn faction had been entirely neutralized. Brereton was the only one of the gentlemen--Smeaton excluded on the grounds that he was not a courtier--who did not have almost constant direct access to the king. But he had bested Cromwell some years previously, and the accusations against him smack of score-settling in the ugliest way.)

*The king himself told Jane Seymour her predecessor had been killed for meddling in state affairs--not for barrenness, adultery, witchcraft, or plotting against his life.

What struck me most about Ives' book is how real it all seemed. This is the first biography of Anne Boleyn--or Henry VIII for that matter--that depicted what felt like a real marriage. It was messy and human and fraught with emotion, all of the things that real life is. He makes no effort to whitewash the flaws of either Henry VIII or Anne Boleyn, and because of that, they are no longer the cardboard cutout, Tudor paperdolls of most biographies. They felt like people I could actually have known, which is a remarkable gift for a writer of nonfiction. (I should point out that Ives also manages to breathe life into his meticulous research without ever letting it become obtrusive. I was particularly impressed with how carefully he considers his sources, weighing motive against opinion.)

So, immensely readable and extremely worth your while is the verdict--particularly this time of year. For some reason the Tudors feel autumnal to me.

In which we celebrate banned books

It is Banned Book Week, the annual celebration of the freedom to read! Visit the official website and learn about events in your community, or pick up a banned book and shake hands with the likes of Harry Potter, Huck Finn, and Scout Finch.

I would like to say I am reading a banned book, but unfortunately I am not quite so organised. I've been on a tear of Tudor biographies recently, most of which have gotten hurled across the room. (You can only read so many times that someone "might" have been present or "might" have thought this before you become violent.) But I have settled in with Eric Ives' The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn and so far it's excellent. There is a great deal of discussion of Tudor faction politics and some deft probing into the psychology of the major players. Considering how much wrong information is out there--much of which is propagated by popular fiction and movies--it's refreshing to find some real scholarship on the subject that is meticulously researched and engagingly written.