Happy Holidays!
As the year draws to its close, I look back to celebrations in the 1940s (because of course I do).
A Second World War Christmas
Although none of the scenes in the current version of The Third Letter are set explicitly at Christmas, there were a couple in previous drafts. And this meant I was able to research just what the holidays were like for people trying to create a sense of cheer despite the rationing of food and loved ones away from home.
One fact I soon learned was that Allied soldiers in camps near towns often hosted Christmas parties for local children, sharing with them some of their food (which was better than the British public received) and handing out small gifts.
I decided to have a little fun and set a scene at a Christmas party for local children in December 1943 with all my main characters: Clara is there to help her schoolteacher sister, Letty, and has dragged along best friend Reenie, who is only interested in which soldiers are at the party. And, of course, among those soldiers are William, Clara’s boyfriend, and Ifan, who William has warned Clara to keep away from, calling him “trouble”.
Extract from a deleted scene from The Third Letter
“Clara followed Reenie into the market hall, stopping short at the sight that greeted them.
It hadn’t looked this good in years, the painted paper chains of old newspaper hiding the cracks that ran along the walls and snaked their way to the ceiling. But where had they found that much tinsel – real tinsel – to tie around the holly sprigs dappled with Epsom salts in imitation of snow that hung at each window?
A scent of fir drifted across the hall from a Christmas tree so tall its top had been bent over to fit it in place. Laughter and chatter filled the hall as the children snatched the crackers scattered precariously amongst the tree’s lower branches, those higher up left untouched – for now. The tree quivered to its tip with each assault.
Letty appeared at their side. ‘Would you two be able to round up the stragglers?’ A frown marked her face as she rubbed at a grubby mark that might have been a handprint on the front of her skirt. ‘Oh, we’ll never get Musical Chairs started at this rate!’
‘Remind me again why I agreed to this.’ Rolling her eyes as Letty left to supervise the games, Reenie linked arms with Clara. ‘Let’s take a walk. We can round them up while we see who’s here.’ Reenie’s eyes scanned the room, her gaze seemingly more on the many adult – and male – occupants of the hall.
Over by the tree, a small gang of children hovered, expectant, by an enormous pile of presents, each wrapped in brown paper. Behind them, the wall was decorated with a giant mural on sheets of newspaper tacked to the wall. Some clever artist had painted a Father Christmas who bore a striking resemblance to Winston Churchill, complete with cigar.”
It was fun to be able to sprinkle in a few of the details that I learned about how Christmas decorations were made at home during the war. In the following scene, we learn that Letty has decorated their home with painted paper chains made by the pupils in her class.
What I’ve been up to recently
How is the plotting coming along, you might ask? Let’s move on to the next topic, shall we?
Suffice to say, I don’t think I will ever be the mistress of plotting.
I did try, but I find that my peculiar brain works much better if I put my characters in a situation and see where they head as I get to know them better.
That said, I do have a more rounded sense in my head of what this story is now. I wouldn’t say I have an outline, but I do have some sort of framework on which the story sits. So that’s something.
I also have a name for the love interest in this new novel, though, thanks to the voting in my poll on Instagram. Sneaking in with 43% of the votes (and just beating Oskar at 40%) is Nils.
So, Nils it is.
And I know now what he looks like in my head. Time to get that onto paper, because if there’s one thing that my critique partners are always asking, it’s “what do they look like?”
For some reason, describing my characters is one of the hardest things for me to write. They look like they do in my head, alright?
But I learned my lesson the other day when one of my critique partners said that she imagined a certain one of my characters looking like Ralph Fiennes. Dear reader, I absolutely do not picture him as looking like Ralph Fiennes. (He’d wish!) So, now I need to go back through my early pages and weave in little details as to why this man looks nothing like Ralph Fiennes. (How many times can I type Ralph Fiennes – and after how many attempts will I type it correctly the first time?)
Anyway, if you need me, I’ll be other here creating the antithesis of Ralph Fiennes.
On the bedside table
The Berlin Letters – Katherine Reay: A dual-timeline hist fic novel set in 1960s East Berlin and 1990s Washington DC, following the story of one family separated when the Berlin Wall went up.
Butter – Asako Yuzuki: Look at me, reading some contemporary fiction. Joking aside, I’ve read great things about this book, but I think my mind is just not in the right place for it at the moment. It’s due back at the library shortly and I think I might need to pick it up again in the new year, when I can give it the attention it deserves.
Darling – Helena Dahlgren: Hist fic in Swedish about the love affair between Prince Bertil of Sweden and the woman who eventually became his wife, more than thirty years after they first met.
You can check out what is on my TBR or pick up copies of my recent reads at Bookshop UK (affiliate link) if any have piqued your interest.
If you’ve enjoyed reading this, why not tap the heart up there at the top or down at the end of this email ❤️
Until the next time, have a wonderful holiday season, and I’ll see you in 2025!
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