C- Cecily

Killsfeather Court was just there—a block away—and in that court she knew she would find the Macefields. Bother the Macefields and every other family that required a nanny. Couldn’t she have been banished to the business of…cookery, perhaps? But no, it had to be nannying, and the family had to be this one. One would think that the heroic deed she had performed would be rewarded with some semblance of attention to her wishes. But no. Her term on earth had begun with a firework of ill-premonitions; service to the Macefields the worst of it all.

-The Scarlet-Gypsy Song

Cecily Woodruff {Lady Cecelia} is an interesting character to write for the bald reason that--quite simply put--she's out of place. The duration of The Scarlet-Gypsy Song, Cecily is out of her proper realm. This world is entirely new and different and she made the choice to come anyway. Though I would never peg her as the Christ-like figure in Gypsy Song, Cecily definitely mirrors Him in this way:
She leaves her proper home--the child of a King--and descends into another to save her people. Unlike Jesus, however, her sacrifice is not enough to turn away the dogged Fitz-Hughes. Her sacrifice, in fact, only angers him and spurs the clashing sides onward, culminating in pillage and rapine across the lands.

As she is a stranger to this world, I had the opportunity to write her character full of odd quirks. Cecily's life as the princess of Scarlettania has been a life of gentle pursuits, quiet pleasures, and lush surroundings. As she admits, there were no lessons for the royal daughter to prepare her for the life she would lead as a nanny in hopelessly prosaic London. Accustomed to being a person of consequence, Cecily's character borders on pretension, snobbishness, and narcissism--all perfectly forgivable if you think of where she came from and where she is now.

This is a subtlety we often overlook as writers.

Where has your character come from?

What influences of culture, position, and family have made her what she is?

Yes, Cecily is a kind young lady, and a sweet one. Her heart is in the right place, and she loves her people. After all, didn't she bring all this on herself voluntarily? But if I wrote Cecily as the classic, perfect princess, her character would not be half as believable. A girl whom for sixteen or seventeen years has been catered to, looked up too, and lauded would not immediately transform from that position to a humble nanny of the Macefields. Especially in the first several chapters, the incongruities of London and Scarlettania are painful at best, and I like it that way.

You wouldn't move to Helsinki and promptly feel at ease among the culture, language, and people. (Unless you already live in Helsinki, and which case I tip my proverbial cap to you.) There would be a transitory period in which the topmost clashings of culture would be all that was apparent to the general eye. So it is with Cecily Woodruff--this beautiful and misplaced princess of Scarlettania.

Of course she adjusts over the duration of The Scarlet-Gypsy Song, and one of my favorite parts involves Cecily and that wretched Mrs. Macefield teaming up to accomplish something that will once again rescue Scarlettania.

Oh yes. She's a very good girl in her own right.

She gathered her skirts and her hair into her arms and trundled down the last three stairs and across the black-and-white tile floor. At the door to Mr. Macefield’s study she closed her eyes and rested her forehead on the wood paneling. What a predicament for any self-respecting woman—much less a princess—to find herself in. The cheek of these earth-folk. The children probably did it out of sheer malice—something about her not being as good as Nannykins—whoever she was.

-The Scarlet-Gypsy Song

B- Banter

"Tha's tryin' to jest the jester!"

-The Scarlet-Gypsy Song

A large part of the way I enjoy interacting--or watching others interact--with people is banter. For me, a movie that has a so-so plot but sparkling dialog can be saved. Same with books. So it was only natural that, granted the nature of The Scarlet-Gypsy Song, I should include plenty of banter. There is a distinct difference between Banter and Verbal Sparring, and I made sure to include much of the latter whenever I introduced the former. Like Jenny Freitag said, the two are completely different animals.
Banter is good-natured jibing and teasing, while Verbal Sparring is jibing and teasing with intent and reason; often to discomfit the opponent--not to elicit a laugh from them. I think of banter like friends playing chicken-fights in the water, while verbal sparring is like playing stick-knife with a real knife and a gang of rough-and-tumbles standing at the ready to pound you if you win.
Essentially, The Scarlet-Gypsy Song is a book full of characters that are all too clever for their own good. They each have a rather high opinion of their intellect, and it can result in tidy little tit-for-tats. The challenge in writing it, of course, was not to let bantering go too far on its own. Often I turned what had been banter into verbal sparring, because who really wants to sit and listen to banter on its own for eight paragraphs?--certainly not I. But banter is a fabulous way to ease into a tense situation. The tone is light, congenial, and then suddenly turns desperate.

“I have no wish to fight you.”

“Haven’t you?” Mockery and contempt mingled freely in Diccon’s tones. What a donkey this fellow was—he wondered with idle curiosity whether Peter Quickenhelm was at all related to Sir Roger Guillbert, but the thought was brief. There were more important matters at hand. “You call yourself a soldier, and yet you are fearful of meeting a man in fair combat?”

Peter raised his eyes and all the pride of a wounded lion flashed from them and scalded Diccon. “Is ambush considered fair combat?”

Diccon observed him with his head on one side and a pitying eye. “Many a wiser man has answered that question: ‘All’s fair in love and war,’ or haven’t you heard? I rather think you are besotted with love—or something rather cruder—for these damsels. I—” he put a hand to his leather veskit, “—am a man of war. Therefore, I deem it fair combat, and you, my chosen opponent.”

The beauty of banter and verbal sparring is that it wards off melodrama as effectively as Thief's Oil wards off illness. I have used banter to lighten moments of danger, but it's also equally effective in romantic scenes--a tactic I used more than once in my other novel, Fly Away Home. See, I'm not a big one for deep, dramatic dialog. I enjoy reading it sometimes (especially in older books) but I don't choose to write it--it isn't a natural tone for me. When you are writing with a sweeping, emotional voice, it can be hard to avoid coming across as melodramatic. That is when the all-purpose tool of banter or verbal sparring could save the day. Try it, and see how it works out for you!

Diccon turned around and caught Adelaide’s eye, then smiled. He approached her and extended his hand. “Ah, my own sister—let me escort you to the very capable hands of that fierce little wench—Dear-Heart, was it? You look in need of a good wash.”

Adelaide laughed. “Doubtless you are right—and yet it is not the bearing of a gentleman to say so.”

“Is it not a gentleman’s duty to tell the truth? There—I have silenced you.” He laughed and patted her shoulder. “Get you to the chamber and clean up—it will be a mighty evening.”

A- Adventure

I am a great one for jumping on band-wagons, aren't I? It seems that my ideas for blogging are very seldom my own--and good reason. I don't claim to be supremely clever, and when a dashed good idea has already been created by someone who is supremely clever, I don't see a call to change it. The band-wagon I speak of this time, is the A-Z event that several authors I know (Jenny Freitag and Anne Elisabeth Stengl to begin with) have done. The general idea is that I will write a post for each letter of the alphabet running right through the course of one of my novels.
Just as Jenny chose Adamantine for her A-Z event because she was not actively working on it and therefore didn't get much time to speak of it anymore, so I have chosen The Scarlet-Gypsy Song. You've heard much of Fly Away Home, and it's almost through its last edits before I pack it off to the agents and hope they want a saucy little inspirational romance. The Scarlet-Gypsy Song hasn't got much space here for some time, and I want to remedy that as I go back through making edits and rewriting. Hence, I give you the Letter A.

A- Adventure

The maid folded her hands over her stomach and sighed. “Well if he had been the sort of father to read things to his children, you’d know all about us.”

Adelaide felt her world growing and shrinking all at once in a dizzying fashion almost as bad as the music-box. “You mean—”

“Aye. We’re all his characters. This is his story. We are all at his command, y’might say. Whatever he writes we live.”

“And we’ve stepped into it?”

“Aye. Right into the darkest days Scarlettania has ever seen.”

I'm sure it will come as no surprise to you that half a dozen children tumbling into their father's story-world are bound to have adventures of some sort. I mean really. Voice-changing panthers and traitors and villains and a country at war with its neighbor is not the sort of thing calculated to conjure up a dull game of golf. You're bound to fall in with a rough crowd or two. It only compounds the error when your father is the one supposed to be writing these "adventures" for you and he...well...slacks off in his writing for a bit and these so-called adventures start to run out of hand. Then you've got kidnappers to deal with...kidnappers and full out battle...and second kidnappers...and really third ones if you want to be picky about it.

“Adoniram—you simply can’t let Darby and Bertram go to battle—you can’t. It’s…it’s…indecent! If it was happening in London someone would call the Agency.”

             The pen stopped. The head rose. The eyes glared. “My love—it is not happening in London. There has not been a battle in the streets of the Capital since the time of your grandfather. Therefore, I would greatly appreciate your silence and a cup of tea.

Of course this certainty of adventure excites Adelaide, Bertram, Charlotte, Darby, and the babies....at first. Afterward? Well...there is no guarantee they'd be scrambling for first-row tickets...or perhaps they would. One never knows with this sort of thing. At any rate, The Scarlet-Gypsy Song has enough plot twists to furnish full-time adventure for six children. I should hope they enjoyed a moment or two of it. 

Cecily pulled Mrs. Macefield toward the tea-things and, like an automaton, began the process of making tea. What a very strange story this had become.