“What place is so proper as the assembly-room to see the fashions and manners of the times, to study men and characters…” Thomas Wilson, Dancing Master, An analysis of Country Dancing, 1811, pg. 6 of The Dancing Master.
Vanessa here,
It was late. The lights had dulled. I turned to leave, and there across the crowded bookstore, I saw it. A book like no other.
Timed to the subtle Barnes & Noble background minuet, I stepped near and ran a finger along it’s fine spine. It whispered a blurb just for me.
Finding himself the man of the family, London dancing master Alec Valcourt moves his mother and sister to remote Devonshire, hoping to start over. But he is stunned to learn the village matriarch has prohibited all dancing, for reasons buried deep in her past.
Alec finds an unlikely ally in the matriarch’s daughter. Though he’s initially wary of Julia Midwinter’s reckless flirtation, he comes to realize her bold exterior disguises a vulnerable soul—and hidden sorrows of her own.
Julia is quickly attracted to the handsome dancing master—a man her mother would never approve of—but she cannot imagine why Mr. Valcourt would leave London, or why he evades questions about his past. With Alec’s help, can Julia uncover old secrets and restore life to her somber village . . . and to her mother’s tattered heart?
Filled with mystery and romance, The Dancing Master brings to life the intriguing profession of those who taught essential social graces for ladies and gentlemen hoping to make a “good match” in Regency England.
The Dancing Master by Julie Klassen
It had me at Finding. With The Dancing Master tucked firmly in my grasp, I gave the attendant my coins and fled to a carriage, content in the knowledge I’d found a joy to keep me warm through the frigid Atlanta night.
Vanessa: Today at R&R we have Julie Klassen joining us. Julie, it is my pleasure to welcome you back to Regency Reflections. The Dancing Master ‘s premise really intrigues me. Normally, we see Regency books with the hero as a duke, a barrister, a spy, or maybe a doctor, but a dancing master, not so much. How did you come up with this idea?
Julie: In Regency England, dancing was one of a limited number of ways young men and women could spend time together or court one another. It was considered such an important social skill that parents hired dancing masters to come into the homes and teach their sons and daughters to dance. “Every savage can dance,” Mr. Darcy says, but unless one wished to dance very ill (Mr. Collins comes to mind) lessons were crucial. So, as an author of half a dozen other books set in the Regency era—and someone who loves to dance–it was probably only a matter of time until I wrote about a dancing master. As I say in my author’s note, I learned to dance the box step standing atop my dad’s size 15 triple E shoes. Later, I went on to take every ballroom dance class I could sign up for at the University of Illinois. I even taught a few dance classes of my own through community ed. I enjoyed drawing on all of these experiences to write this book. Like ballroom dancing, I find English country dancing exhilarating, joyful, and just plain fun. I hope to express that joy in the novel.
Vanessa: Wow, Dad has some big shoes to fill. Poor Mr. Klassen, has his work cut out for him, between dad and all of your romantic heroes. Tell me about what kind of research you conducted. Hopefully plenty of dancing.
Julie: I read instructional guides and journals written by dancing masters of ages past, and watched reenactors perform English country dances online. But the best and most enjoyable kind of research was actually learning dances from that period. My dear, long-suffering husband and I went English country dancing several times.
Julie Klassen at the Ball
I also attended the annual general meeting of the Jane Austen Society of North America, held in Minneapolis in 2013. There, I took two more dancing classes to polish my skills before the “Netherfield ball,” complete with live musicians and costumes. It was a wonderful experience to dance with fellow Austen fans from around the world.
During the conference, we also watched a BBC production: “Pride And Prejudice: Having A Ball.” In this program, a team of experts recreated a private Regency ball, complete with historical food, costumes, music, and dances. Unlike most of the sedate dances we see performed in period movies nowadays, in reality many of the dances of the era were fast paced and lively. Those of us watching were surprised how energetic the dances were, and how the performers (trained dancers in their twenties) were breathing hard and perspiring after a few dances.
By viewing the program and taking the dance classes, I gleaned several details to include in The Dancing Master. For example, when a couple reaches the top or bottom of a long-ways set (line of dancers) they stand out for a round before working their way back up or down the line. This gives couples a breather, and more importantly, a chance to talk and flirt with their partners!
If you’d like to learn more about the JASNA conference, here’s a fun video my publisher took of me (in costume) at the event. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5KmFKlJlfk
Vanessa: Ok, enough of the pleasantries. Julie, tell me about dreamy Alec Valcourt.
Julie: Alec is capable, loyal, and determined to support his mother and sister. He is a sharp dresser, prefers to keep his hands clean, and wields a fencing sword far better than an axe or spade in a rural village where most men are farmers or miners. As you can imagine, this leads to several painful scrapes along the way.
Vanessa: Why is Julia Midwinter the perfect foil to Alec?
Julie: Julia is a bit reckless, flirtatious, and difficult. But like many people in real life, there is more going on beneath the surface—and in her past—that has made her who she is. As the story unfolds and secrets are revealed, Alec begins to see the vulnerable, wounded soul beneath the brash exterior. He learns to understand her and becomes fond of her, especially as she begins to grow and change, and I hope readers will follow his lead.
Vanessa: Growing and changing. Sigh. I know I’ve made a few mistakes on that road. What spiritual truth would have made a difference to Julia, if she had realized it at the beginning?
Julie: All her life, she had been seeking a father’s love and approval. And if she could not have a father’s love, then any man’s approval would do. She had strived so long and so hard to gain attention in the wrong ways and from the wrong people…. If Julia had realized earlier that even though her earthy father failed her, her heavenly father loved her and highly valued her–she might have avoided some of the foolish things she did to try to fill the void left by the absence of a father’s love.
Vanessa: After reading Julia’s and Alec’s story, what else do have for us. There will be more cold nights in Atlanta.
Julie: I am currently working on rewrites for my next Regency-era novel with Bethany House Publishers. It’s a mysterious romance called The Secret of Pembrooke Park, and is due to be released December 2014.
Vanessa: Julie, The Dancing Master, is an amazing book. Asking this of any author is unfair, but if you could sum up the spiritual journey in one word what would it be?
Julie: Grace. I enjoyed weaving in grace in its many forms–social graces, grace in dancing, and most importantly, God’s grace—and I hope readers will be reminded of His amazing grace for us all.
Vanessa: Thank you for being a great sport and sharing this special book with us.
Julie: Thank you for having me here!
Julie Klassen is going to give away a paperback or e-book copy of The Dancing Master to one lucky commenter. Share with us your favorite dance, dance scene, or dance disaster. Mine took place at last year’s RWA conference when I tried to do a reel. There’s video….
Any way, here’s an excerpt from The Dancing Master:
“May I help you with something, Miss Midwinter?” Alec said officiously, hoping to chase the self-satisfied grin from her face.
“Yes, actually.” She clasped her hands. “I’ve come for a dancing lesson. Here—since Lady Amelia would never allow it in the house.”
He licked dry lips and felt his pulse rate quicken. Part of him relished the notion of being alone with Miss Midwinter. Enjoying her company and her undivided attention. Taking her hand in his to lead her through a private dance in a deserted churchyard . . . His chest tightened at the thought.
But he knew all too well the possible consequences of such stolen moments. Such seemingly innocent beginnings.
She took a step forward, and he stepped back. She performing the chassé, and he performing the dance of retreat.
He said, “Miss Midwinter. Before we proceed any further, I must tell you that I have a strict policy against any romantic involvement with my pupils.”
She blinked, momentarily taken aback. “In that case, perhaps I ought to reconsider becoming a pupil of yours.”
JULIE KLASSEN loves all things Jane—Jane Eyre and Jane Austen. A graduate of the University of Illinois, Julie worked in publishing for sixteen years and now writes full time. Three of her books have won the Christy Award for Historical Romance. She has also won Christian Retailing’s BEST Award and has been a finalist in the Romance Writers of America’s RITA Awards. Julie and her husband have two sons and live in St. Paul, Minnesota.
We here at Regency Reflections wishes each of you a safe and happy 2014. I’m very proud of my colleagues. We’ve got some exciting Regency books releasing this year. New projects to crow about, but I thought today, I’d let you in on a secret, but don’t tell anyone.
Some of our authors are multi-talented.
Naomi Rawlings has her second book coming out, The Wyoming Heir. Since its by Naomi, their must be memorable kisses: The Wyoming Heir:
Given a choice, Luke Hayes wouldn’t ever leave his Wyoming ranch. Yet when his estranged grandfather dies, leaving him everything, he’ll travel to Valley Falls, New York—but only to collect his sister and his inheritance. He won’t be roped into saving a floundering girls’ school, no matter what mathematics teacher Elizabeth Wells says.
Elizabeth has defied social convention and her own family for the sake of her beloved Hayes Academy. Luke is pure rancher, from the tip of his Stetson to the scuff on his boots, yet he’s also becoming her unlikely ally. Only he can help save her job and school…but how much will she lose when the time comes for him to leave?
For more information about Naomi and her novels, visit her website at www.NaomiRawlings.com.
Now, its not a Regency, so don’t tell anyone you learned about it from me.
Laurie Alice Eakes, has her twenty-first, or hundredth book coming out. She writes so many I’ve lost track. The Professor’s Heart:
Mia Roper has what she always wanted
Her independence, her career and her home back East. But when a train wreck strands her in Hillsdale, Michigan, the town she once called home, Mia begins to wonder if she made the right choice to leave Hillsdale—and her true love—behind.
Rescuing injured passengers, Professor Ayden Goswell can’t believe his eyes. Could that really be Mia, the woman who once owned his heart, emerging from the wreckage? Long ago, Mia and Ayden chose their careers over love. But God, it seems, may have other plans for them….
A wreck, a reluctant heroine, what’s not to love, but since it’s not a Regency don’t tell anyone you heard it from me.It’s available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble or CBD.
Ok, I got those secrets off my chest. I feel better, probably won’t need a mustard plaster. There probably will be more books, non-Regencies that my wonderful friends here will be releasing this year: Kristy, Camy, Ruth, etc. That I won’t be telling anyone about :), but I am so proud of the gaggle of authors here, I just couldn’t help spilling the beans.
PS. Tweeting this is not the same as verbally telling.
To step away from my desk, from writing, usually takes intention—an obligation, an appointment, an event.
But this weekend, instead of rushing back to my hotel room to work, I took a walk in the city that never sleeps
.
New York City is magic. The lights and screens can mesmerize for hours. The hustlers are everywhere, each chasing their own dream with a specific kind of determination. I melted into the crowd—a sea of people, heads tilted down, grimaces in place, walking like they’re late to a very important date.
And yet, as I shuffled forward, I walked with purpose. Certain of my own hustle. Certain that, like the waves of moving feet around me, I’m going somewhere important.
Even though these times feel tense and nerve-wracking, this too shall fade. The question is: Who will you be when revival comes?
I suggest you should be out walking. Walking to your own tune. Strolling between memory lane and adventure street.
We can’t let depression and deadlines keep us trapped on a treadmill to nowhere. We need to be out, moving, seeing the sights, meeting the moment head-on.
Downtown New York. Times Square—it’s still vibrant, still electric with people, places, and possibility. One of the places I wandered off to was Broadway. I scraped up pennies and last minute tickets to take in a Broadway Show. My daughter and I caught Gypsy.
Gypsy—the revival—is based on the memoirs of burlesque star Gypsy Rose Lee. Originally adapted by Arthur Laurents, with music by Jule Styne and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, the show first hit Broadway in 1959.
Gypsy follows the struggles of a showbiz mother, Rose, and her two daughters: the sweet, spotlighted June and the awkward Louise. Rose devotes her life to making them stars in a vaudeville world that’s fading fast.
Rose is the ultimate dreamer—the pushiest of mothers, hell-bent on creating success in a season that’s disappearing as quickly as a stripper’s costume.
Gypsy—the cast, the costumes—and especially Audra McDonald—blew us away.
Six-time Tony Award winner, now the most-nominated performer in theater history, Audra stepped into the iconic shoes of Momma Rose—a role made legendary by Ethel Merman, Angela Lansbury, Patti LuPone. And she did it with poise, passion, and a voice that reached the heavens.
For the first time, Rose and her daughters are being played by Black women.
And it feels right.
After all, I grew up with a Mama Rose of my own—down South, with big dreams and high expectations. She had color, attitude, ambition, and love. All of that minus the Gypsy Rose stripping.
And in the legendary Majestic Theatre, we, my daughter and I, took in the chandeliers, the molding, the velvet drapery. The lights dimmed. The orchestra began. And we were swept away—into songs we half-remembered, dances we instinctively tapped to, that wonder that fills you when you let the noise fall away and become part of the show.
This was my daughter first show and she loved every moment.
And sadly, if one doesn’t count off-Broadway shows and church basement productions, this viewing was my first too. I loved it but it’s bittersweet to think of the moments I missed because I chose a different, probably work related path.
And yet I refuse to beat myself up on the Shoulda, would’ve could’ves that befall us. I went with my daughter now. That’s what matters. And as we left we hummed:
Together, Wherever We Go
Wherever we go, whatever we do,
We’re gonna go through it together.
We may not go far, but sure as a star,
Wherever we are, we’re stronger together.
I tweak the lyrics. What can I say, but I’m a writer.
Everything’s Coming Up Roses
I had a dream, a wonderful dream about you.
It’s gonna come true.
They think that we’re through, but…
Nothing’s gonna stop us ‘til we’re through!
Everything’s coming up roses for me and for you!
And now, as I sit on this plane, writing to you, my weekly essay, I hope I’ve passed on something else too.
That it’s okay to take a walk.
That it’s okay to step away from duty, from deadlines, from stress—even just for a few minutes.
That rest and joy are worth chasing just as hard as success.
That it’s okay to fail, as long as we keep dreaming.
My hope is that we all learn to capture that feeling—that joy of being lost in the moment. Of humming. Of strumming our fingers to the rhythm of wonder. Of letting the songs in our soul rise again—when we take care of ourselves.
Even if it’s just with a little walk.
Books that can help you disconnect in meaningful ways are:
Talks about rest as a form of liberation, especially for Black women.
Listen to the album, Sing Happy by Audra McDonald and the NewYork Philharmonic
Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I’m highlighting Bookmarks NCthrough their website and Bookshop.org
You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com under the podcast link in the About tab.
Let’s keep resting and rising together—please like, subscribe to stay connected to Write of Passage
Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley.
This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe
Vanessa here, writing with tongue in cheek about Regency transportation.
News of the heroine’s abduction has made its way to the hero. With a quick prayer for strength, he yanks on his tailcoat and readies to chase after the villain and reclaim the lass. How will the hero get to his sweetheart in time? It all depends upon the hero’s fortune and location.
I was introduced to Modern Regencies, you know the ones written by after Austen, Heyer and Veryan while in college. Nothing I liked more than to unwind with a witty, Regency with everything on the line in the story after calculus.
One novel, A Proper Marriage by Debbie Raleigh is one of my favorites. I reread it each year, at least once.
What’s not to love about A Proper Marriage. First, the hero and heroine are married, to each other. Not a marriage of convenience (those are great) or gun-induced wedding from a compromise, but an arranged marriage one year in between noted war scholar, Adam Drake and the formerly free-spirit, Adele Morrow.
Here’s Adam explaining to Vicar Humbly, the man who wed the two, the problem:
Adam winced in spite of himself. “No, I made very certain before we wed that she understood I would not tolerate the scandalous behavior of her parents,” he admitted. “I made a precise list of what I expected in my bride. I even chose her wardrobe to ensure she would not be an embarrassment when we arrived in London.”
“And Addy agreed to this list?” he (Humbly) at last demanded in carefully bland tones.
Adam waved a restless hand. “What choice did she have? Her parents had managed to squander their fortune years ago and only survived in the knowledge they would receive a settlement when Addy and I wed.”
“Ah.” The Vicar nodded in a knowing manner. “Well, you should be pleased. Addy has become a most proper lady.”
“Yes, I should be delighted,” Adam agreed grimly.
“But you are not?”
Adam polished off the brandy in a single gulp. He thought of the months with Addy in his home. No, he was not bloody well delighted. No man would be delighted to possess a shadow that slipped from his grasp whenever he reached out to take hold.
“It is not pleasant to live with a woman who is clearly miserable,” he conceded with a pained grimace.
Second a smart but bored heroine:
Here’s Addy dealing with a rake.
Addy reached out to reclaim her fan. “I am sensible enough to know you are a reprehensible rake! If you wish to polish your fatal charms you should choose a more gullible victim.”
“You have it wrong,” he (Barclay, the rake) protested. “I have been felled by your beauty.”
She rolled her eyes heavenward, but before she could take him to task for his foolishness, a sudden shadow fell over her.
A familiar tingle of awareness rushed through her and slowly she turned to confront the glittering gaze of her husband.
Third, real arguments about cross-purposed souls with the richness of history, duty, and commitment that you don’t always find with unmarried couples.
He (Adam) had thoroughly ruined her evening and worse, he had wounded her pride with his blunt confession he did not trust her.
Dash it all. It had been uncomfortable enough living with Adam in a state of polite, frozen courtesy. She might have disliked guarding her every word and being abandoned for hours in this great tomb of a house, but at least she did not have to worry over sudden squabbles and sharp words that seemed to cut her very soul.
Through the vicar’s counseling, Addy and Adam manage to reconcile and even find love, with each other. I adore this book so much, I even cut a trailer for it.
So, if you are looking for a good Regency to curl up with try this old Zebra Regency Romance, A Proper Marriage.
There is a time and a season for everything.The real question is: Are you ready to move?
Right now, it’s a scary time to be a Black creative. Honestly, it’s a scary time for everybody in the arts. I’ve shared in a previous episode how the Canva bots came for me — they told me that the word slavery was political and banned in their system of tools.Banning books is all the rage. Banning concepts or ideas — stopping the writer or artist at the very beginning — is unfathomable.
Vanessa speaking at the Conyers Book Festival.
You might say, “Vanessa, AI and bots are just part of the times.” And yes, there are many great uses for AI in research and algorithmic approaches. But until we figure out how to train AI without stealing from artists and writers, we are going to continue to have a problem.
If you tell me that the season we’re in now involves AI writing novels and creating drawings and graphics to replace artists, I will encourage you to consider the following:Nothing can replace human creativity, authenticity, and zeal.Those impacted by theft or imitation must press boundaries, pursue legal actions when necessary, and most importantly — outlast the wave.Sometimes, winning is simply about longevity.
Outlasting your haters is definitely one way to gain victory.
For those who follow me, I’m Vanessa Riley. I write in three genres: historical fiction, historical romance, and mystery.
Lately, in the book world, I’ve seen so many friends — so many writers like myself who focus on history — getting hurt. Series are being cut short. Book options aren’t being picked up. Doors that were once wide open are now being slammed shut.
The reasons are many:They tell us the market is soft.They whisper there are “enough” Black books now.They say history—the kind that reveals hidden figures and rich, complicated lives—is suddenly being gutted, looted, or dismissed.
For someone like me, who loves history and is just now finding my footing in historical fiction, it’s dark. It’s absolutely terrifying.
The visual arts, films, and TV have also suffered. In January, I heard similar feedback from filmmakers.
Hollywood is still “recovering,” they say.Budgets are tighter. Risk tolerance is low.Historical pieces, they say, are too “hard to place”—too expensive, too niche.
And then—everyone gets dazzled by Ryan Coogler’sSinners, a historical piece set in the 1930s that genre-bends horror and drama.The film is a hit.
Annie and Smoke from the Movie Sinners shot by Eli Joshua.
At the time of this podcast, Sinners has grossed over $161 million and is now projected to gross between $300–400 million. A diverse audience of moviegoers—Black, White, Asian, and more—people from all walks of life are coming together to experience this masterpiece of storytelling.
Ryan Coogler, I salute you. You had a daring vision, found or created the systems and opportunities to execute it, and made magic.
Now is the time of opportunity.
We have to shake off our fears and create.We must figure out new ways to tell the stories burning in our souls.To innovate. To evolve. That is pathFinding way through the wilderness is the answer.
Sinners showed us the way—not just by being excellent in storytelling, photography, cinematography, and research—but by knowing exactly who the story was for.
Ryan and his team pushed the right buttons—the necessary buttons. The heart of the film is Black-centered storytelling: Jim Crow South, inclusivity, and vampires.
Because when you know who you’re speaking to and what you want to say, you don’t have to dilute the truth to make it palatable.
As a Black creative, I’ve often been pressured to center pain and trauma in my stories—because that is what some believe (and still desire) is what sells.
Ryan Coogler’s Sinners proves that de-escalating trauma works.It sells.Even in the scariest genres.
He took care in how the story was told.Care in how every scene was shot.Care in the research, the respect.
He cast with authenticity—from hair to skin to clothes to dialogue.He didn’t slap diversity on just for clout—the script lived it.
To succeed only by limiting our stories to an audience that believes in our humanity through our suffering is inexcusable.
We must push boundaries, push different buttons.And I believe it is our mission to find new ways to share the lessons of the past—without reducing ourselves to victims or spectacles.
And if Sinners has taught us anything, it’s this:Audiences will reward care.They will reward newness.They will reward stories told with humanity, dignity, and love.
When I first started writing, my mission was simple:Educate the world about the history of Black people across the diaspora.Show our humanity through love stories.
But missions shift with the seasons.Right now? For me—and this pen or keyboard—it’s time to move, to be more daring, to try new approaches to story.
Looking back, I know there were times I softened words, edited scenes, chose tenderness over rawness—because I wanted to make sure readers were comfortable.I wanted the message to reach as many as possible.And I don’t regret the stories I told. I’m proud of every one of them.
But the filter is gone now.And here’s the hard truth:If you still need convincing of my humanity in 2025, I say this with all respect—You probably aren’t going to get it.Keep your coins.Find your own Damascus road.You need divine intervention.
I’m not St. Peter.I’m not standing at the gate any longer, waiting to explain myself—or my people—to you.If you want my knowledge, you’re going to have to do the work yourself.
This new season? This new phase?My stories will be as unapologetic and as free as they’ve ever been.
Because I am a storyteller.And with that comes a duty:To honor my people.To carry the sagas of our ancestors.To bridge the distance from “over yonder” and back to “right here.”
Of course, I want everyone to feel welcome reading my books.I understand I live in a system I didn’t build—but I’m here, and I intend to win.
But my stories?They’re for my people.
And if you’re still listening, you are my people.I write for you.I labor for you.I see you.
I’m ready to move and adjust.And I will be your guide—to happy-ever-after, happy-for-now, or to some bigger definition of freedom and faith. What say you?
What say you?
Some books to guide you in your quest for more authentic storytelling:
“We Do This ‘Til We Free Us” by Mariame Kaba — Essays on abolition and hope, but also about how storytelling and imagination drive social change.
“The Prophets” by Robert Jones Jr. — A deeply poetic novel about Black love and resistance set during slavery but centered on love and humanity, not suffering.
“Bloodchild and Other Stories” by Octavia Butler — Speculative short stories about survival, community, and power dynamics.
“Ring Shout” by P. Djèlí Clark — A daring, genre-bending novel mixing horror, history, and Black resistance during the Jim Crow era (very much like Sinners).
“Island Queen” by Vanessa Riley — A real-life figure’s story told with dignity, richness, and depth.
You can find my notes on history and writing on my website, VanessaRiley.com.
Enjoying the vibe? Go ahead and like this episode and subscribe to Write of Passage so you never miss a moment.
Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley.
This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe
I am all a twitter, (not the recently IPO’d kind) but excited about planning a baby shower for a dear friend. As I become steeped in color choices and decorations, the need to play games or not to play games, I begin to think about childbirth or the expectation of childbirth during the Regency.
Bibs and nappy cake for a Girl -Wiki Commons
Sadly, I couldn’t find any corollaries to anything we know today as a baby shower. No cards, or nappy cakes, no diaper genies unless you count the wealthy woman’s servants.
No one seemed to plan any kind of celebration for the expectant mother. What we now call baby showers have their roots in Victorian times.
Why No Regency Celebration?
Let’s face facts. It might be a little hard to plan a tea or invite friends and family over to celebrate an event that had a 20% or greater chance of killing you. Poor hygiene, lack of knowledge of difficult pregnancies, unsanitary practitioners, bloodletting, the discouragement of using midwives (ladies versed in how save women, turn babies coming breach) etc. all played a role in the not so great outcomes for pregnant women during the Regency.
Moreover, the pressure to have a male child could be daunting. Knowing the dire need to produce an heir to protect your husband’s entailed property (and your future comfort upon the death of said husband ) had to decrease the need for pre-birth celebrations.
Boy’s diaper cake – Wiki Commons
Though Aristotle (384BC to 322BC) tried to clear things up with his theory of men determining the child’s sex, it was still easier to blame the woman for the child-rearing failings. Good thing science cleared that matter up. Just in case you are new to the world of scientific discovery, the male’s X (female) or Y (male) chromosome determines the sex.
Yet, I did find celebrations or at least acknowledgements of surviving childbirth. People would gather and offer support. They brought food to the mother. During the Renaissance and still practiced during the Regency, visitors (the gossips -Middle Ages term for women and family who gather during the birth) gave painted trays with words of encouragement for the women. Some trays were so pretty, they were hung along the walls to surround the mother during her confinement . With confinement potentially lasting up to 40 days, seeing these kind words and beautiful images had to lift the new mother’s spirits.
Painted for the Birth of Lorenzo de Medici – 1449, Wiki Commons
As baby shower details are finalized, I will be looking to add a few Regency touches. I’m sure my friend will enjoy these little sentiments to make her prenatal and postnatal time encouraging.
What are some encouraging words or gifts that you would offer to a first time mother?
“If you get… me out of this … Lord…” No, she was not supposed to bargain with God. “Please God?”
The shrub tore a little further. Only Honore’s arms and hands clung to the earth. Only two thread roots still clung to thin soil. So, apparently God did not please. -A Reluctant Courtship
We have all been there, begging God to get us out of some trouble, something horrid we wrought upon ourselves. Laurie Alice Eakes showcases a fallen woman, Honore Bainbridge, whose past mistakes make her shunned in society and threaten to steal her chance at true love.
This is the gripping tale, the concluding story of the Daughters of Bainbridge House Series, A Reluctant Courtship. The rich message that God’s forgiveness is real, even when we don’t feel it, is meshed with this suspenseful romance.
Hanging from a Cliff
When we meet Honore this time, she’s literally hanging on to a cliff, trying to save her life. The memories of her past sins wash before her eyes. A part of her heart tires of the shame, causing her to wonder if it would be easier for everyone if she just let go.
Now, Honore’s crime was heavy for the 1800’s. She’s been caught kissing two bad men, a traitor and a murder. Everyone ostracizes her, yet God still gives her a caring chaperone as a friend. God never leaves or forsakes us, even when we think He has.
No one wanted to marry Honore, any longer. If her escapades with a handsome rake during her first Season hadn’t been bad enough, getting caught kissing another gentleman in her brother-in-law’s organgery—and then that man turning out to be a murder—sent Miss Honore Bainbridge flying beyond the bounds of acceptability. -A Reluctant Courtship
Everyone has those moments of discouragement when we know we aren’t good enough. The taunts are unforgettable.
You’re not good enough. You are worthless. No good, just like your father.
Even the hero, who has questions of his own character, judges poor Honore (Pot and kettle syndrome).
“Such beauty and courage shouldn’t be connected with a morally suspect character.” -A Reluctant Courtship
Neighbors and peers judge Honore.
Not a yard away, the Devenish ladies tittered behind fans or gloved fingers.
“Little more than she deserves,” was followed by “Worst misalliance yet.” -A Reluctant Courtship
Fans a Twitter
So, she loved a few bad men. Who hasn’t? But in the 1800’s, connections in the war weary England meant everything. With her earthly protector (her father) gone, Honore has to withstand shunning and evil gossip, even at church. At one point, Honore internalizes the guilt.
I make so many mistakes I think God no longer listens to me. -A Reluctant Courtship
But Laurie Alice doesn’t leave Honore or the reader without hope.
For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God -Romans 3:23
She allows the saving grace of Jesus Christ to touch Honore.
You are not alone. God promised to never forsake us, and His promises are true.
Your willfulness does not stop God from loving you. -A Reluctant Courtship
Finally, Honore allows God’s hope to shine through her.
“I do not deserve Your help, but I am asking for it anyway. This time I am simply going to believe You are here with me.” -A Reluctant Courtship
When Honore surrenders to the fact she is forgiven by the One Person that matters, she is able to focus on doing what she does best, throwing her whole heart into saving the hero. Hopefully, she’ll live long enough to know the love of a good man.
I asked Laurie Alice, what she wants the reader to take away. Her message is clear:
No matter what you have done, no matter how many mistakes you have made, God’s love reigns supreme and He loves you regardless. Nothing is beyond redemption.
May everyone be blessed with this understanding.
For a chance to win a $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble gift card today, answer the question below in the comment section. If you answer the question, your name will also be entered into our Regency Grand Prize giveaway in honor of the release of A Reluctant Courtship. The giveaway includes a tea cup, a package of tea, a box of chocolates and a $10 gift card (to either Amazon or Barnes and Noble).
A Reluctant Courtship
Today’s question: Have you ever made mistakes you think are beyond God’s redemption? If you can, we would be blessed to learn how the Lord worked in your life.
Last week was a weird one. The algorithms—the bots—seemed to come for me. Canva, of all places, led the charge. It made me feel like I wasn’t just wrong in opinion, but wrong in essence. As if the characters I write—rooted in history, full of breath and heart—were somehow unworthy. Handcuff me now, because it felt like I was being told it was a crime to write them at all.
Caption: Two Scaredy-Cats watching the must see movie, Sinners.
And in this current climate? That kind of doubt sticks. There’s so much anti-DEI noise. So much effort to “protect” people from truth. Heaven forbid someone learns something. Heaven forbid someone dares to be better, more moral than their ancestors.
I thought I’d shaken it off. Thought I’d moved on. I got back work on my manuscript and typed out another 6,000 words. Then came another note from Canva, gently suggesting I find another word—something less “triggering”—than “enslaved” to describe Jacquotte of the upcoming Fire Sword and Sea, who had in fact was enslaved. So I turned to friends and asked them for other ways to phrase “enslavement.” Here’s what we came up with:
* Bond servant
* Stolen laborer
* Forced job training
* People in the condition of slavery
* Held in captivity
* Kidnapped
And y’all—I laughed to keep from crying. Because all I could think of was: Lord, have mercy.
I might have sinned right then—if not in word, then in thought. I wanted to cuss out the machine. I was disappointed in technology. That’s a hard place to be for a data girl. Yet, I was more disappointed in me for even entertaining the idea of appeasing the bot—the faceless, soulless thing that some biased, flawed, or agenda driven human had created and enabled it to think it knows what’s best.
Surrendering is not how we honor truth or the stories we’re called to tell.
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Welcome to the Write of Passage family. Now, back to the podcast.
Fear is a seductive thing. It whispers: Don’t speak too loudly. Don’t shine too brightly. Don’t center stories on Black truth, Black joy, or Black progress.
And lately, I’ll admit—it’s been taking me longer to bounce back. It’s getting harder to hold on to the vision of a brighter morning just ahead when everything feels handcuffed and ready to be jailed or deported.
In the past forty-eight hours. The visuals that I allowed my eyes to see have been, stunning, heartbreaking, and even holy.
On Easter Sunday, my church goes all out for a dramatization of the Crucification: lights, drama, music, the whole thing. But this year, there stood a Black Jesus—bloodied, whipped, brutalized. It hit different, terrifyingly different. Then came Black Simon, stepping in to carry the cross, basically taking on his shoulders the oppressor’s burden given to Jesus. I’m watching it and something cracked, fracture into hundreds of pieces on the inside.
It’s been a long time since I cried in church. The first time was when I said the sinner’s prayer and I admitted that I was scared and I needed salvation.
Side note: Did you know the “Sinner’s Prayer” doesn’t actually appear anywhere in the Bible? There is no biblical record of anyone praying those exact words. It emerged around the Protestant Reformation and took shape in the early 20th century—barely 125 years ago. For context, the Civil War officially ended 160 years ago. Both of those things are not that long ago.
On Easter Monday, I saw Sinners—the Ryan Coogler film with Michael B. Jordan, Wunmi Mosaku, Hailee Steinfeld, Li Jun Li, Miles Caton, and Delroy Lindo. On a gorgeous widescreen, I watched this emotionally rich tale saturated with period details and truths. Spoilers alert: Two brothers are seen watching the sunrise, just in awe of the majesty and their freedom. Then I focused on people dancing, singing, loving.
Then comes destruction.
The movie has all types of monsters. The obvious hate-filled men of the Klan, who are hungry for blood and money. Then monsters disguised as your own kind. The evil is often invited in. He feasts of fear and death.
The violence didn’t make me jump. The gore wasn’t any worse than the makeup used at church for the crucifixion. Eventually, dread arrives. It settles in your chest. It steals all joy before the next morning can come. I found myself waiting for that other foot to fall, for when that bad was coming.
So what does this all mean? Anticipating doom or consequence can be as draining as when the threats or violence comes. We can’t surrender in advance.
It means we must guard our eyes—not to shield them from truth, but to make sure they still see beauty, even in chaos. Still see family. Still see hope.
We must guard our ears—because false praise can lull us into stillness. It can lie to us that we are safe and leave us vulnerable to brokenness. Yet we need music, sweet music, true music, ancestral rhythms. All can cut through the noise and remind us who we are, who we are striving to be.
We must remember:
This little light of mine… I’m gonna let it shine.
A light can be seen.A light reveals what’s nearest—what needs our care.A light casts shadows, warning us of what’s creeping in the distance.A light tells the truth of our circumstances. And it gives us the chance to see the true face of things lurking in the dark.
So keep your light burning. That is your protection.Keep your voice strong. That is how you inspire hope.Then revel in each new day, letting your truth-telling, joy-making, world-building self be known.
To help encourage your soul, try:
Call Us What We Carry by Amanda Gorman – Poetry that engages with history, hope, and the responsibility of bearing witness.
Sula by Toni Morrison – A meditation on Black womanhood, loyalty, and community through beautifully painful prose.
And of course, go see Sinners in the movie theater. Watch creativity and inclusiveness on the widest screen you can find. Thank me later.
The winners will be those who kept their light shining, who believed in truth. And who dared to cry out: It’s me. It’s me, oh Lord, standing in the need of prayer.
Darkness is real. We tend to invite into our life, our work, our sanctuaries.But remember dawn is also real. Dawn, I hear comes with new mercies, too. I pray we find them.
Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I’m highlighting The Book Cellar through their website and Bookshop.org You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com under the podcast link in the About tab.
Help fight the bots by hitting like and continuing to share this podcast. You are essential to its growth.
Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley.
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I stepped out on my porch to a slight breeze. The air kissing my cheek had abandoned all hints of Atlanta’s signature heat. After a summer of mostly Seattle like-weather full of rain or horrid humidity, I looked up to spy rain clouds. Nothing. Only sunshine beamed overhead. I guess summer has passed. It’s autumn’s turn to color my world.
And what colors! Soon reds, yellows, oranges will surround the deep emerald greens of my evergreens.
Fall Leaves Wiki Commons
In Madeline’s Protector, I used the change to warm-coloured, cozy Autumn to contrast the hero and heroine’s chilly relationship.
If Madeline’s eyes were daggers, she’d be a widow.
“I suppose you won’t show me your hall of Hampshire sculptures.”
Her lovely jade eyes clouded, and she looked away.
He balled up his leather evening gloves. “Pray let’s start over.”
She gazed at her dainty slippers. “Why? Are you afraid to disappoint my father?”
Now that strike hit close to home. “I like to pass tests. That’s what my father impressed upon me.” Justain swallowed a deep breath. “What will it take to restore your opinion?”
She stuck her chin in the air. “To get this visit over as soon as possible.”
He peered through the window. “The leaves are starting to turn. I hope the good folks of this county take the time to admire the colours. The hillside’s striated in three shades of red. This is stunning country, not the moors of Devon, but beautiful.”
“Why are you tormenting me with a place I’ll never see?” She released a heavy sigh. “The tree roots cling to different sections of the steep ridge adding to the variety. Watch the sunset.” She pointed to the clouds. “Sometimes the sky tries to match the hues of autumn.”
Perhaps as the sun came closer to earth, it’d thaw the frost between them. “Magnificent,” he said. It was simply beautiful. “God’s paintbrush, I think you called it.”
I asked my brethren, my fellow Regency writers, what lets them know Autumn has arrived, and they were kind enough to share:
Naomi Rawlings
Trees – Wiki Commons
The first sign of autumn for me is the leaves changing. We almost always have cool
nights and warm days where we live, but it seems as though the leaves start
changing the beginning of September. Right now, half the leaves across the road
are already yellow. School starting is another good indication. In Michigan,
school doesn’t start until after Labor Day . . . right about the time I notice
the first bit of color on the trees.
Personal Note: Why does school start so early? Back in my day….
Susan Karsten
For my family, fall arrives on the heels of an interesting weather phenomenon. Almost every year, there’s a day on which we feel fall arriving. The scenario is this: we’ve had week after week of hot (80s or more) weather, then we’ll have an out of the blue cold/cool day. Sometimes the cool day has come while we are at the lake. On those occasions, we somberly ride around on our boat, feeling summer slip away and remarking on it.
Boating in Autumn Wiki Commons
For me, individually, fall arrives when I notice crunching leaves underfoot. That takes me back to the days when I walked to and from school, crunching through elm leaves. Other signs around here are the apple orchards opening their salesrooms, the Canada geese assembling at the nearby wetlands, and for my husband’s business, there’s often a flurry of activity in the real estate business around this time.
Apple Orchard – Wiki Commons
Kristy Cambron
The first sign of fall for me is not Regency
related. I admit that I love a good college football game and when my team takes the field for that first game, autumn is officially here! It’s okay to
break out the sweaters, drink apple cider, and write books where heroines walk through a fiery-skied and leaf-blown twilight! : )
Laurie Alice Eakes
Autumn is one of my favorite times of year. Only one of my books is set over the summer, to autumn time, and they, as I do, look for the way the days cool off sooner and get hot later, especially since I moved to Texas. I love the way the breeze goes from hot, to a hint of coolness. Back in Virginia, the humidity dropped and the smell of the air turned crisp. I haven’t yet noticed a difference in the fragrance to the air here (in Texas).
Kristi Ann Hunter
Happy Birthday Wiki Commons
For me, the first sign of fall is a sense of new beginning. I moved around a lot growing up so when the weather turned cold always changed, but the new start was always there.
Even though I’m out of school there is still a sense of the new year actually starting in September. Could possibly maybe have something to do with my birthday…
Do you love Autumn? Share an Autumn memory with us, then get out and enjoy the colors.
loves to dance–it was probably only a matter of time until I wrote about a dancing master. As I say in my author’s note, I learned to dance the box step standing atop my dad’s size 15 triple E shoes. Later, I went on to take every ballroom dance class I could sign up for at the University of Illinois. I even taught a few dance classes of my own through community ed. I enjoyed drawing on all of these experiences to write this book. Like ballroom dancing, I find English country dancing exhilarating, joyful, and just plain fun. I hope to express that joy in the novel.
JULIE KLASSEN loves all things Jane—Jane Eyre and Jane Austen. A graduate of the University of Illinois, Julie worked in publishing for sixteen years and now writes full time. Three of her books have won the Christy Award for Historical Romance. She has also won Christian Retailing’s BEST Award and has been a finalist in the Romance Writers of America’s RITA Awards. Julie and her husband have two sons and live in St. Paul, Minnesota.
