This year started out with a little more isolation than I expected, but there are always silver linings. The good news is that I’ve been hard at work on the sequel to Always a Princess – and deeply immersed in the late Regency era.
If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ll know how passionate I am about research and about history. That’s why it’s so exciting to see this blog featured in a top 50 list of historical blogs:
I’m excited and so grateful that my blog appears in such amazing company! I can also recommend Feedspot as a great tool for researching almost any topic.
Thank You for my Amber
Thank you all so much for supporting my books and blog – oh, and yes I’m crying again. It’s that kind of year. I'm calling these tears amber tears, because even the ancient gods might have cried at the year that was 2020. The idea of amber tears has always fascinated me.
In ancient days, there was a belief that amber was a form of solidified sunlight. It was thought these jewels from the sun fell to earth when the gods wept from on high (ie, Olympus). What might make a god cry? Oh, you know - US!
The reason such divine beings shed amber from their eyes, was usually due to a demonstration of humanity. Watching us human beings showing our own resilience and strength, despite (or perhaps because of), our mortality, is inspiring to gods and mortals alike. Last year, we saw a lot of this. We also watched ordinary people, just like us, speaking truth to power - and there is truly nothing more heroic than that.
During this pandemic, I have seen the bravery of frontline healthcare workers, and of so many people standing by their friends, neighbours, and families in a truly watershed period in world history. I think I cried more in 2020 than I have in my entire life - but this year, this new year, I choose to actively seek out hope.
Daring to Hope
I personally have an ambivalent relationship with hope. It’s so hard to keep alive – and so vital. Every hero and heroine in every story, deals with at least one ‘daring to hope’ moment. The moment when they must find the courage to make peace with the double-edged blessing of believing in goodness, and being uncertain it may show up. This feels like the line to walk in 2021. Why do I make my heroes and heroines arrive at this double-bladed moment? They have to – not just because I’m the writer and I make them face this, but because it’s one of the most relatable and human ways to demonstrate their heroism and their humanity…
…and, suddenly, I am not just speaking about fiction. ;-)
Does actively seeking hope lead to more tears? Oh yes, almost certainly, but this year, they'll be amber. Divine, and full of sunlight.