Many things are terrible and hard right now, so here, have a list of my 25 favourite historical films!
This isn't necessarily a list of the historical movies I think are objectively best, or most important. They are my personal favourites, the ones I watch over and over, and/or the ones that left me saying "wow" and changed my brain in some way. (I have not included any Shakespeare adaptations or even anything Shakespeare-adjacent, as I'm treating that as its own category, one I've talked about in my newsletter before.) The list below is in alphabetical order. I'm sure I've forgotten something that I'll kick myself over in five minutes.
A Knight's Tale, 2001. Incredibly fun and deeply medieval, not in spite of the anachronisms but because of them.
A Room With a View, 1985. A perfect film. Lines from this movie play in my head as I go about my business. Love everyone in this. Helena Bonham Carter is Lucy to a T. Rupert Graves as Freddy! Daniel Day-Lewis as Cecil! Julian Sands as George! Maggie Smith as Charlotte! I could go on!
Amadeus, 1984. My kid still laughs at me because I panicked when I realized we didn't have this on DVD and were reliant on streaming (I rectified this.) A staple film! It taught me many things about storytelling and continues to do so.
Cry Freedom, 1987. Donald Woods' book about Steve Biko has had a huge influence on my life, and I looked to Woods as a role model when I became an editorial writer. The movie was almost equally influential to me. Denzel Washington and Kevin Kline are amazing in it. It was only made 10 years after Biko's death (and my birth), but since it's telling a true story of a particular moment in time, it was and remains "historical" as far as I'm concerned.
Dangerous Liaisons, 1988. When I think of John Malkovich, I think of this movie, even now. A movie that sets its tone and holds it. But I haven’t rewatched it in years, so I’m overdue. And maybe I’ll find it doesn’t hold up as well as I remember.
Dunkirk, 2017. I went into this one with some trepidation, because my grandpa was among those evacuated from the beach at Dunkirk and told me about what it was like. I think he would have approved of the film. Plus, it's a cool feat of storytelling, with its three interwoven timespans already a touchstone among writers for that kind of plot.
In the Name of the Father, 1993. It strikes me that Daniel Day-Lewis appears on my list a lot. He's great in this, as is Pete Postlethwaite. A movie that gave teen me context for Pogues lyrics and taught me a lot about injustice, colonial institutions and why we don’t trust authority.
Lady Jane, 1986. I love Helena Bonham Carter in A Room With a View, but it's possible I love her in this even more. The perfect portrayal of Jane Grey, especially the moment on the scaffold when she can't find the block. It makes me ugly sob every single time I see it.
Lawrence of Arabia, 1962. Watched this one with my dad growing up, and while it's far from a complete or accurate portrayal of the events it covers, it's gorgeous and fascinating and has some incredible performances from Omar Sharif, Claude Rains, Alec Guinness and, of course, Peter O'Toole.
Marie Antoinette, 2006. A huge influence on my novel The Embroidered Book, and both my novel and the film drew on Antonia Fraser’s biography. Far more true to history than some earlier and more conventional treatments. Another example (to go with A Knight's Tale) of creative uses of anachronism.
Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, 2003. So perfectly executed – this film is just a delight. The standout performance is Max Pirkis as the teenage midshipman.
Oppenheimer, 2023. I understand why this movie didn't land for some people, and there are a lot of fair critiques of its choices. I see it as a film about how American politics talks about genocide, and I found it riveting, with career-defining performances and really interesting story-telling choices. It has stuck with me.
Orlando, 1992. Probably the movie on the list that has influenced me the most as a writer, equally with the book it adapts. Quentin Crisp is my favourite Elizabeth I. Tilda Swinton is magnificent. I adore everything about this movie.
Poor Things, 2023. An alternate history, but it counts. Weird and wonderful. Emma Stone is brilliant. That's all.
Saving Private Ryan, 1998. Of course. I could make a whole list just of war movies, but this would be near the top of it. Yeah, it’s got US-coloured glasses on, but it shows us D-Day and its aftermath in a way nothing else does, not even The Longest Day, which of course is also great. I definitely had visuals from Saving Private Ryan in my head as I was writing the Ivy chapters of The Tapestry of Time. Another ugly-sob movie.
The Age of Innocence, 1993. Daniel Day-Lewis again! He's so good as Archer, and Michelle Pfeiffer is so good as Olenska. A really faithful and beautiful adaptation of a brilliant novel.
The Duchess, 2008. The film that made me sit up and take note of what a fine actor Keira Knightley is.
The Favourite, 2018. I have an unpublished novel set during Queen Anne's reign in which Robert Harley (played by the always amazing Nicholas Hoult in this film) is a minor character, so I guess I was always the target audience for this, but also, Olivia Colman! And Emma Stone, again. And the soundtrack.
The Green Knight, 2021. I almost didn't include this because the England it portrays is more fantastical than historical, but that's one of the things that makes it so true to the stories it's retelling. I love this weird movie deeply. Dev Patel! Sean Harris! Barry Keoghan!
The Lion in Winter, 1968. Probably my favourite movie, period. Peter O'Toole, again. Katharine Hepburn. Also anachronistic, also deeply medieval. A movie (and play) that reminds us that writing is not real life; it’s writing. Every line is a diamond.
The Name of the Rose, 1986. Another brilliant adaptation of a brilliant book; such a treat to see it come to life. The atmosphere is perfect.
The Northman, 2022. It's probably not a surprise to anyone who's read my work that I am very fond of historical fiction that treats the beliefs of its characters as part of the setting. This is a retelling of the stories that preceded Hamlet, and it actually gave me a new understanding of Hamlet – so it almost violates my "no Shakespeare" rule for this list.
The Remains of the Day, 1993. What a beautiful, patient film about the lives and choices of two people, and one of the sharpest portrayals of British upper class fascism.
The VVitch, 2015. I sat in the theatre fully expecting the female main character to follow the Hollywood beats and pluckily convey the movie's message. I was so delighted when it never happened, and I had to rethink the entire movie, and consider whether I see it as a folk tale, or as a community tragedy about the perpetuation of abuse, or something else. It's a movie that asks the audience to do the work, something that feels like a relief, when so many movies refuse to trust us enough to do that. And, as with others like The Green Knight and The Northman, I love movies that don’t feel as if they’re uneasy in their historical viewpoints.
The Zone of Interest, 2023. A work of genius that everyone should see, immediately if you haven’t already. The best example I know of a movie that tells its story in full collaboration with its audience.
Hello, folks! First of all, a heads up about a new anthology coming soon called Rising Tides that includes a story by me – a pirate story called “Lady Misfortune”, set in the early 1600s on the coast of Newfoundland! I had lots of fun with this one, and I know the publisher will appreciate your support for the kickstarter if you can.
I thought I'd do a little update on the novel revisions today, with some thoughts on finding one's own way while taking feedback on board, and dealing with critical voices as a writer.
I got my editor’s (wonderful) feedback on the draft of Mercutio a few weeks ago. It's not a difficult revision, but it's been slow going: partly because I've had a lot of freelance and teaching work on my plate, partly because I'm a bit burnt out from doing too much in the fall, partly because we've had some time-consuming household stuff to deal with such as the aftermath of a truck veering into our lane and hitting our car (we’re all OK, but dealing with the insurance company and other red tape has been extremely stressful), and partly because the horrors on the news are occupying more of my mental space than makes for optimal productivity. But I'm getting there!
The main job with this draft is to extend my hand a little bit more to readers. This is something I get asked about, sometimes, so I thought it might be worth exploring a little. People will ask me questions like “Do you have to do what your editor says?” or “Do you compromise your vision to try to be more commercial?” And the short answer is no. But! That doesn’t mean I just send my (wise and patient!) editor a snippy note and insist upon my genius. It’s more complicated than that.
For example, one thing I am doing with this draft is laying down a bit more emotional groundwork, for certain subplots, to make sure certain moments hit for the reader the way I want them to hit. This is always part of revision for me, but I still find it a little bit tricky to spot where that's actually an issue, because I’m so prone to second-guessing myself. My agent and editor know me and my work well, and they are both good at telling me where I need More. (I always need More somewhere, often very literally. My books almost always get longer with each draft.) Often, everything I want the reader to catch is already there in the book, but it just needs to be underlined or teased out enough that the reader feels it. I have gone through this process with all of my books.
Hello, everyone! A heads up, to begin with: today's the final day for the #KidLit4Ceasefire auction. I'm offering signed and personalized copies of my Assassin's Creed novels, anywhere in the world. You've got a few hours to bid if you're interested! The money goes to good causes, including to helping displaced families in Gaza.
This week, I want to share some thoughts about why I'm not giving up hope despite the truly depressing onslaught of news every day.
If you're subscribed to this newsletter, you probably already know that writing fiction about moments of historical change is the main thing I do with my working hours.
The Chatelaine is set against the backdrop of the political, religious and economic ferment in 14th century Europe and the pressures that led to the Hundred Years' War.
Hello everyone! My writing life at the moment is revision and more revision. I finished my second draft of Secret Novel and sent it off to its editor. Now I’m tackling the editorial feedback on Mercutio.
(I did some back of the napkin math the other day and realized that once these two books hit the shelves, I will have more than a million words of published fiction under my name. A million words! That is bonkers. And that’s just the published stuff, and doesn’t include interactive fiction. I still feel like I’m just starting out.)
Between these two novels, edits and revision are going to be my main fiction work for the next few months.
But as I’m also in the brainstorming phase for the next novel after that, I’m diving into research. One task at the moment is a very physical one: I maintain a shelf that is just for the research books for current works in progress, and it needs an overhaul as I move on to the next things.
Happy new year! There’s one big bit of news to report since my last newsletter went out a month ago. My US publisher, Harper360, published the ebook and audiobook versions of The Tapestry of Time just before the end of 2024. So if you’re in the US, you can now buy it or request it for your local library. If you’d like to wait to read it in print, the US paperback comes out June 3 (just before the D-Day anniversary) and is now available for pre-order.
My December was a mix of family time (my mom is visiting), contract work and finishing the first draft of my new (as yet unannounced) novel. I’m now revising and fleshing out that draft so I can send it to its editor. I also got notes back from my editor at HarperVoyager UK, Jane Johnson, on the draft of Mercutio, which is exciting! She had very positive things to say about it, and some wise advice for how to revise it.
So my 2025 in writing will begin with a few months of revising and editing both novels. I’m also in the research and brainstorming stage for the next novel after that, which I’m looking forward to.
I don’t think I’ll look back on the state of the world in this year with any fondness, but when it came to my writing, it’s been a year of milestones, changes, and a lot of learning.
This will be my last newsletter until Jan. 3 (I'll go on hiatus over the holidays), so it seems like a good moment to take a look back on this year in the life of one very tired writer.
Top from left: The head of a black cat, my usual view while writing; the envelope that came with my Aurora award; in the Ottawa Swordplay Academy hall for the All in a Day book club event. Middle from left: my three Aurora awards; a hotel mirror in Toronto; Minerva checking out the box of author copies for The Tapestry of Time. Bottom from left: at the Spaniel’s Tale bookstore in Ottawa; in Mexico City; in the CBC Radio studio with author Natacha Belair, talking about our reading at the Ottawa Bagel Shop.
Hello, everyone! Before I get into the main thing I want to share this week, I have a few bits of news.
First, I’m thrilled to be one of the guests of honour for Can*Con 2025, here in Ottawa next October. My fellow guests of honour (so far) are Premee Mohamed and Stephen Kotowych, two people I like very much and whose work I admire.
I was recently interviewed by Jamie Portman for an article that ran in Postmedia papers across the country; it seems to have only appeared in print, so far, but you can read it here if you like.
On Nov. 30, I’ll be in Montreal for an in-person conversation (mostly in English) with Guy Gavriel Kay and Mathieu Lauzon-Disco, at the Joie de livres booth at the Salon du Livre. Tickets are quite reasonable. We’ll also sign books afterward.
I’m horrified by the U.S. election and what it means not only for my friends in the U.S. but for the world, and Canada’s politics will be affected too, probably not for the better. There will be more to say; at the moment I am reeling and grieving.
I do believe that the human imagination is key to our ability to fight back, because imagining otherwise is the beginning of liberation—and I believe that as generative and predictive technology threatens to erode original thinking, it is essential for us all to keep our skills sharp. I’m looking forward to this free workshop I’m giving in Ottawa on Tuesday, as one tiny way of using my expertise in that cause. I think we’ve hit the cap of 25 people; if you are on the waitlist, feel free to email me at kateheartfield@gmail.com and I’ll see what I can do; if you’ve registered but find later you can’t make it, please do cancel to make room for someone else. There’s been a lot of interest in it, so I plan to develop an online version of the workshop sometime in early 2025, which will also be free.
Next newsletter, I’ll pass along some of my notes from that workshop.
In the meantime, here are some of the historical images from Paris that I had in mind when I was writing The Tapestry of Time, and which have been coming back to my thoughts unbidden in the last few days.
The World Fantasy Convention was in town and so, after a long day of panels and readings, some writers had descended on a restaurant in Niagara Falls, NY. We had made a reservation for our party of 20, which they split into three tables, and the restaurant also had another couple of tables where people were wearing conference badges.
It was well past an hour and a half by the time some of us even got our drinks; the restaurant was overwhelmed, I guess, and seemed to be doing one table at a time, start to finish, before beginning to serve the next one. I didn’t mind too much as it gave me a chance to catch up with writer friends, but by the time our table made it to the cash to pay, we were outwardly polite and appreciative but inwardly tired and grumpy.
The teenager behind the cash was not picking up on our exhausted vibes, though. As we handed him credit cards, he kept asking us, with amazement, whether we were really writers. Like actually writers, of books and things. Like for real? “Why is that so hard to believe?” one of us asked with a smile. “Do we not look like writers?” “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not that. It’s just that you don’t see writers, you know, just out doing things, very often.”
I wish my introvert batteries hadn’t been so low by that point; I might have asked him more about himself (he did tell us he liked manga) and given him some information to help him find the local writing community, if he wanted to. I remember very well the feeling I had when I was a young reader that authors couldn’t really be ordinary people that one could meet and talk to; I didn’t meet any until I was an adult.
Hi everyone! It’s been an incredibly busy month of promo, travel, and deadlines. I finished the first draft of Mercutio, but it needs revision, and I have other projects on the go. So I’ll keep this short!
I’m at the World Fantasy Convention and the Ottawa International Writers Festival later this month, and at Can*Con in early November. Details on my updated events page.
The smaller paperback edition of The Valkyrie is out in the UK as of Oct. 10, and will be out in North America on Oct. 22. Available wherever books are sold! To celebrate, I thought I’d excerpt the first few paragraphs, below.
Yesterday, The Tapestry of Time hit shelves in the UK and many export markets, and the audiobook and ebook versions are available now in much of the world, including Canada. The print edition hits shelves in Canada in a few days, on Oct. 1. (A reminder that the US edition will be out in June.)
It's a novel about four clairvoyant sisters in the summer of 1944, fighting the Nazis for control of the Bayeux Tapestry. It's based in part on the true story of the tapestry during that summer, so it follows the events of real history, but as usual for me, there's some fantastical weirdness going on as well. I hope it honours, in some small way, the real people who have given or risked their lives to resist fascism in many generations and countries, and those who do so today.
A few hardcovers of The Tapestry of Time. The cover artist is Toby James.
September is turning out to be very busy, which is a mercy, because my next book releases at the end of the month, and the busier I am, the less chance I have to worry about how well the book will do. The UK release date for The Tapestry of Time is Sept. 26 (hardcover, ebook and audiobook narrated by Frankie Porter). Many export markets will get it that day too. In Canada, the release is Oct. 1, just a few days later.
An update on the U.S. release: it’s going to be June, 2025. Sorry for the delay, U.S. folks! Sometimes publishing works in mysterious ways in different markets.
If you’re interested in suggesting it to your book club, you can download a three-page kit from my website that has an introduction to me, plus discussion questions, suggestions for music mentioned in the book to play before and after, and a list of non-fiction related reads.
One reason I’m so busy is that I’m the new Writer in Residence for the University of Ottawa! It’s pretty surreal to be a writer in residence at all, and it’s especially sweet to have it be at the university where I did my undergraduate degree, a quarter-century ago.
Almost 10 years ago, in September 2014, I had what is known as “The Call” with a literary agent: the conversation that precedes an offer of representation.
I had spoken to agents a few times before (including two long calls back in 2008 with an agent who had chosen not to sign me as a client, but took the time to chat with me about my writing anyway, a kindness I’ll never forget). I had also had a few agents and small-press editors get close to the point of offering after reading my manuscripts — I’d had some exciting recommendations, some high praise from mentors, some “we’re doing second reads” or “we’re having internal conversations” emails. But I’d never made it to The Call. I’d dreamt of having a novel published since I was a small child. It was my only real life ambition. I was 37 years old, had been trying more or less continuously, and it just never happened.
To put my state of mind in 2014 in perspective, I have to go back a couple of decades. I finished my first novel in 1996, when I was 19 years old and in my second year of undergrad. It was a contemporary, realist coming-of-age literary novel. I can’t remember now who I sent it to. Not many places, since it cost an arm and a leg to print out. I know a few publishers were in the mix, and possibly a few agents. I knew almost nothing about publishing, and there was not much on the internet yet to help. Also, the book was not very good. So that was that.
Over the next 18 years, I wrote four more novels. In the meantime, I went to grad school, got a fulltime job as a journalist, bought a house, moved out to the country with my partner, had a child. And every few years, I’d finish a novel, and query it, to no avail. I started the querying journey with a dot-matrix printer and SASEs (self addressed stamped envelopes), so I don’t even have email records of half of it. My querying continued into the email era. It never occurred to me to keep a spreadsheet or anything like that, and I pre-date query-tracking websites. I have no idea how many queries I sent out over those 18 years, but it is somewhere in the hundreds, probably the high hundreds. I had reached the point where I wasn’t even telling anyone about my writing anymore, because I hated the look of pity I’d get in response.
There’s a trick to make award ceremonies (a little) easier on the nerves: pick another writer on the ballot and root for them with all your heart. I first learned this trick from the wonderful (and multiple-award-winning) Sarah Pinsker, and I do it every time. On Sunday, at the Aurora Awards, I didn’t even have to make the slightest effort to root for someone else. Indeed, I was rooting for all the other writers on the list to various degrees.
I never think it’s likely I’ll win an award I’ve been nominated for, but my level of expectation runs on a spectrum to “hell no, never going to happen” to “probably not.” On Sunday, I was way over at the “hell no” end of the spectrum. For one thing, I won the same award last year, for The Embroidered Book, and I thought back-to-back victories for best novel would be unlikely, especially for someone still fairly early in their career, as I am. (I haven’t won any awards other than the Aurora, although I’ve been nominated for some.) For another, The Valkyrie, while it has done well, hasn’t made the same splash or reached the same level of sales as The Embroidered Book. Most importantly, I was sharing the ballot with successful writers I greatly admire, any one of whom would have been a completely unsurprising winner (Waubgeshig Rice, Jessica Johns, Andrew F. Sullivan and Silvia Moreno-Garcia. Go read their work!)
So I don’t think I’ve ever been as surprised in my life as I was when the fabulous hosts announced that The Valkyrie won. You can watch my acceptance here at about 1:22. It’s hilarious — that 10-second pause after they say my name, when I’m just blinking and looking around and it looks like I can’t find the right browser window, or I’m trying to get off mute, or my feed’s delayed? Yeah, none of that was happening. My total lack of reaction is apparently what happens to my face when I am utterly stunned. I was sure that I had misheard, my audio had stuttered, something like that. (Being a writer, I have now filed this look on my face away for the next time I need to write someone’s stunned reaction. Everything goes into the pot!) It was a very different reaction from last year’s gasp of joy when I won for The Embroidered Book, which was also surprising, but this one, for some reason, just totally bowled me over and made me unable to speak or react.
The town of Stratford, Ontario, shares a name with Shakespeare's birthplace, and it leans into that hard. In 1952, it became the home of the Stratford Festival, which has grown into a Canadian institution. It runs April to October every year, and puts on a number of Shakespearan productions as well as other plays and musicals.
I've been to the English Stratford, a long time ago, but I'd never been to the one here in Ontario, even though I was born very near it, and even though it’s a half-day's drive down the highway from where I live now. So last month, I made a road trip of it with my 14-year-old. We did a tour of the enormous warehouse and archives, full of costumes, sets and props from decades of productions.
And we saw two plays: Romeo and Juliet and Cymbeline, both fairly traditionally staged. Well, it's not very traditional for Cymbeline to be staged at all, which is one reason I chose that one; how often do you get the chance to see Cymbeline? It's not a play I even know very well; I might have read it years ago, but I couldn't have told you the plot if you asked me a few weeks ago.
Hello, all! A lovely bit of news since my last letter: my novel Assassin’s Creed: The Resurrection Plot is on the shortlist for the Scribe Awards, in the Original Novel—Speculative category. These awards are determined by a panel of judges and given out by the International Association of Media Tie-in Writers; the winners will be announced later this month at San Diego Comic-Con.
I’m thrilled for a few reasons! This is my first Scribe Award nomination, and it’s always wonderful to have one’s work recognized by one’s peers. It’s an extra nice surprise to get a nomination for book 2 in a duology. Also, I worked really hard on this particular book, in collaboration with my patient and wise editor, Gwendolyn Nix. It was a big challenge to make sure all the elements were working together—the book 2 character arcs, the known history across several countries and a couple of decades, the invented plot, the videogame canon, the political themes—all within a tightly defined word count and on deadline. I wanted to make it accessible not only to those who knew nothing about Assassin’s Creed, but also to people who hadn’t read book 1 (The Magus Conspiracy). I also wanted to make it satisfying for the fans of the franchise, and especally for the amazing, supportive fans of the first book.
Tie-in writing sometimes gets portrayed as an easy paycheque for writers, but that has not been my experience. It’s made me a better novelist and has helped me to understand other strains and traditions of modern storytelling, and has introduced new readers to my work. (Also, it has helped me send even more people down historical rabbitholes on Wikipedia.) The most heartfelt and touching reader mail I’ve ever gotten comes from my tie-in books.
So a big thank you again to Gwendolyn and the whole team at Aconyte Books, to Bastien Jez for the cover art, and to everyone at Ubisoft who supported this book and created the world it’s set within. And to my agent, Jennie Goloboy, without whom my books would just be files on a hard drive. And a shout out to everyone else on the Scribe Awards ballot—it’s an honour to be in your company.
My partner and I recently watched Chimes at Midnight, the Orson Welles film about Falstaff that reinterprets pieces of Shakespeare's plays about Henry IV and Henry V. Until recently, it wasn't easy to find a copy. In 2006, Roger Ebert had to scare up a DVD from Brazil to rewatch it for the first time since 1968. He wrote:
"The crucial point about 'Chimes at Midnight' is that although it was rejected by audiences and many critics on its release, although some of the dialogue is out of sync and needs to be adjusted, although many of the actors become doubles whenever they turn their backs, although he dubbed many of the voices himself, although the film was assembled painstakingly from scenes shot when he found the cash—although all of these things are true, it is a finished film, it realizes his vision, it is the Falstaff he was born to direct and play, and it is a masterpiece. Now to restore it and give it back to the world."
It has been restored and re-released since, and we were able to find it pretty easily, thank goodness.
The Wikipedia article about the film includes this quotation from Welles, from a BBC interview:
There are so many good novels coming out, or recently out, and I can't read any of them now because I am up to my eyeballs in research books at the moment. I love research, though, and I thought I'd use this edition of the newsletter to talk about how I find answers to historical questions, using one recent example of a question I had, and how I went looking for the answer. Research is something I get asked about a lot, and these days, it's getting harder to do well online.
I've got a few topics on the go for my novel Mercutio at the moment: astrology, ships, playing cards, city-state politics, maps, food, clothing, philosophy … This week I spent a whole day reading about travellers from China to Europe in the 13th century. Sometimes I need to know a lot about a topic and sometimes I just have a question or two. And sometimes what I learn is that there is no definitive, findable answer.
Where possible, though, I like to find the answers to my questions as accurately and fully as I can, both because I think it's a useful service to be as accurate as possible, and also because the real, weird complexity of history makes for better fiction than just replicating assumptions.
Here's an example of a specific question I had earlier this month and how I approached it.
I've always been interested in the history of the Second World War, and I talked to my grandpa about it a fair bit in the last years of his life. Although he'd been (narrowly) evacuated from Dunkirk with the rest of the British Expeditionary Force in 1940, by 1944 he was nowhere near France (he was posted in Iraq, doing vehicle inspections as Armament Quarter Master Serjeant.) That's why the memoir he wrote for his family in 2000 doesn't talk about D-Day except in passing. But it does include a long passage about his worries that "the present generation" might not realize how terrible the consequences might have been if the fascists had won the war. My grandpa and I were indeed from different generations, and there are lots of things he might not see the same way I do. But I agree with him wholeheartedly about that.
One reason I wanted to write a novel set in the Second World War was to add my tiny contribution to the ongoing work of keeping that history alive and real, or at least spurring a reader or two to find out more about it. History can be forgotten–and more immediately, it can be suppressed or twisted to the ends of those in power, or those trying to take power.
My novel scheduled for publication in September, The Tapestry of Time, is about the abuses of history, and how fascists tried to take control of the historical narrative then as they continue to do now.
Hi everyone! The news is out about the new book I’m working on:
I’ve wanted to write about Mercutio forever — and specifically, about John McEnery’s portrayal of Mercutio in the 1968 film of Romeo & Juliet, which got under my skin decades ago and has been part of my creative brain ever since. I’m so pleased to be working again with Jane Johnson (my editor at HarperVoyager UK for The Chatelaine, The Valkyrie and The Tapestry of Time.) I’m mid-way through the draft now, and I plan to send it to Jane before the end of this calendar year. This is a standalone; the second book in the deal will be for something unrelated.
The last two books before this one were really difficult for me process-wise, so I’m glad to say this one is coming more easily, at least so far. It’s also tremendous fun to write. I’ve been very deliberate about finding the joy in it, and taking my time.
