RHYS REVISITS HER RESEARCH

RHYS BOWEN:  I'm currently in Arizona where it is unusually cold (yes, I know you East Coaster will laugh when I tell you it's in the fifties and we had a frost warning this week). I showed you the picture of our house yesterday and those incredibly high ceilings mean it's hard to heat. This was not a consideration that popped into my mind when I first saw the house and thought how amazing that high ceiling was.

Luckily I am in pre-launch status for ABOVE THE BAY OF ANGELS, doing about an interview a day and talking about my experiences in Nice. So I have to keep checking the photos I took the last time I was there to remind myself what it was like. And I thought I'd share a few today to warm us all up. That coastline is one of the most stunning on Earth.

 When you drive from Nice to Monte Carlo one vista opens up after another. (taken from a speeding bus so a little wobbly)

Luxury yachts sparkle on blue water. This is in St. Jean Cap Ferat, which was close to our apartment and one of our favorite places to go for lunch. (It was also featured in my book as King Leopold of the Belgians built a villa there for his young mistress, and very savvily also bought up most of the land. Today an apartment there sells for millions.


This was the view from where we rented an apartment to do my research. It's in Villefranche-sur-Mer. (so called because the town helped keep the area free from pirates long ago and thus acquired a tax-free status)

And this is where I spent a lot of my time, up in Cimiez, where Queen Victoria stayed and most of the buildings date from her time there. This is from the Roman Amphitheater that actually plays a small part in my story.

This is a man-made waterfall, part of the city's original water supply, that was one of Queen Victoria's favorite outings. The bus ride up to it is hair-raising as it zig zags up the hillside extremely fast. But the view from it is worth the danger!

Lastly here I am, slaving away for my craft. (one does need a little time away from libraries, antiquarian bookshops and Queen Victoria's haunts. (yes, those are oysters)

Aren't we lucky to have these brilliant photographs that can take us back to places we've loved. I see the tiny black and whites of my childhood and they don't evoke memories in the same way. What is the best place where you've ever done research?

The Making of a Story: Rhys reveals the truth behind Above the Bay of Angels.

RHYS BOWEN: I exactly one week today my new book, ABOVE THE BAY OF ANGELS, will be published. It's set in the city of Nice on the French Riviera and it is a story about Queen Victoria and a young woman who cooks for her.

So how did I get involved with Queen Victoria. My usual focus is on the first half of the Twentieth Century, especially the two great wars. I had no intention of going further back in time and no particular interest in Queen Victoria. So this story came about entirely by lucky accident.

I was in Nice a few years ago and visiting Roman remains up on a hillside above the town. We saw this beautiful big white building stretching across the hillside. It had the words Excelsior Regina on it. A gardener was working in the garden and I asked him if it was a hotel.
"No Madame," he said. It was now apartments but it used to be a hotel because it was "built for your queen."
"For Queen Elizabeth?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No madame. For Queen Victoria."

That was the first time I learned that Queen Victoria had visited the South of France. So I started delving into this and discovered that she had spent her winters there during the latter years of her life. So a clever businessman had built this hotel for her, hoping to lure the rich and famous from the rest of Europe to Nice as a winter destination. Victoria came on a private train with her bedroom furniture, her maids, footmen, cooks, ladies and gentlemen... oh, and a regiment of Highland Pipers, and then said, 'I don't want anybody to know I'm the queen."

Don't you think the private train, retinue of 100 and the pipers were a bit of a give-away?

Then she said, "I want to be known as simple Lady Balmoral while I'm here." Yes, right.
I found all this fascinating. The more I dug, the more I realized I had the makings of a good story. In 1897 there was scandal as she insisted on bringing her Indian servant, Abdul Karim with her. Her gentlemen realized he was a dangerous man who was privy to too much sensitive information and passing it along to the head of the Muslim League in India. In spite of their threats she still brought him with her and there were discussions on how to get rid of him! Also her son, the Prince of Wales, thought she'd gone senile and was trying to come up with a way to remove her from the throne.
So plenty of intrigue to write about.
Then I thought: she's coming to a new hotel with French chefs AND she brings her own cooks. How stupid is that? And I went one stage further: what if one of her cooks was a young woman with a terrible secret and becomes involved in a murder plot? And so Above the Bay of Angels was born!

I came back to Nice and started research in detail. I found a helpful librarian and the main library who dug out amazing stuff including the plans and brochure when the hotel was first build and who stayed on which floor.  Then I really hit pay-dirt. In a small bookstore in Antibes I found a locally published volume on Queen Victoria in Nice. It listed who accompanied her, who she visited, who came to stay, where she went on excursions etc etc. Perfect.

So we have a young woman with a secret
Queen Victoria
The French Riviera
French cuisine
A whiff of royal scandal
A hint of danger
Would you say that's a perfect recipe for a book?

So a lot of what you will read in this book is true historical fact. And I'm interested to know: do you like to learn real history from historical novels? Does it upset you if the writer gets something wrong?

What We're Writing: Rhys and Royals

RHYS BOWEN:  Once again I'm writing about the royal family, only this time it's Queen Victoria and the year is 1897. She is an old woman who now spends her winters on the Riviera in Nice, in a splendid new hotel built for her. She travels on a private train with a retinue of her own staff including her own cooks, some highland pipers, her Indian secretary and all her own bedroom furniture.

My story features a young woman who becomes her cook and then encounters various problems, one of which appears in the excerpt below, proving that it wasn't ever easy to be a female in a man's world. But my heroine's problems go beyond sexual harassment to being blackmailed and becoming mixed up in a couple of plots.

And I can't give you a title yet, because we don't have one. So let's just call it QUEEN VICTORIA'S COOK... probably not VICTORIA'S SECRETS!

I was halfway down the grand staircase when I heard footsteps behind me. I paused and glanced around to see the Prince of Wales following me. I flattened myself against the wall, allowing him to pass, but instead he drew level with me.

“What’s your hurry, bright eyes?” he asked. He was looking at me with a sort of half-smile.

“I have to get back to my duties, Your Royal Highness,” I replied, my voice scarcely more than a whisper. “I have to make the puddings for dinner.”

“Nonsense.” He chuckled, a deep, throaty chuckle. “Nobody can complain if the queen kept you, can they?  Or even if the Prince of Wales kept you.” He took a step closer to me. Rather too close to be comfortable. “What a delightful little creature you are.” He raised a hand and stroked my cheek. “Do I detect a wisp of auburn hair under that severe white cap?” And before I could do anything he had whipped the cap from my head. To my mortification my hair tumbled over my shoulders. The prince’s eyes let up. “I was right.” He picked up a curl and toyed with it. “I have a distinct softness for red hair. Red heads are supposed to be fiery and passionate, aren’t they? Are you fiery and passionate?”

“No sir,” I mumbled. “I’m sure I’m a most quiet and well behaved young woman.”

He laughed, tugging on my hair. “That’s because you haven’t met the right man to wake you up yet. I bet you’ll be a little tiger one day.”

I could feel my cheeks burning, trying to think how I could possibly get away. But he had me pinned against the wall and one can hardly give the heir to the throne a good shove.  “Please sir, let me go,” I whispered. “I really should get back to the kitchen.”

“I’ll wager you have more talents than making scones,” he said.  His eyes were challenging me.

I could sense what he was hinting at, but I replied, “Perhaps I do, your highness. I am told I have a light hand with pastry”

This made him throw back his head and laugh heartily. “What a sweet innocent you are. I can’t wait to--I can’t wait to taste your pastry, young woman. Or experience your light hands. Why don’t you come and cook for me?

Oh dear--how do you say NO to the Prince of Wales. Unfortunately this is just one of the difficulties my heroine faces, including being accused of murder! It's all fun on the Riviera.
The book comes out next February and hopefully we will have a title by then. Suggestions gratefully received! 

What We're Writing: Rhys and Queen Victoria

RHYS BOWEN: I seem to be going back in time with my writing. After writing two stand-alone novels set in WWII, my next book, coming out this February, is called THE VICTORY GARDEN and is about the Women's Land Army in WWI.

However, my work in progress, actually only just started, is going to be about Queen Victoria and the time she spent in Nice. When I was staying in Nice a few years ago, actually writing Naughty in Nice, I was surprised to learn that Queen Victoria spent the winter there, during her latter years. I hadn't known this. An enormous hotel had been built for her--the Hotel Regina Excelsior. It stands on a hillside above the city with fabulous views. She took over a whole wing with a retinue of 100. She brought her own bedroom furniture and chefs on a private train from England.... however, she didn't want anyone to know she was the queen. (I think they might have guessed with a regiment of Highland pipers accompanying her). She told everyone to call her Lady Balmoral.

So the working title of my book is LADY BALMORAL'S CHEF. And it's about a young woman who cooks for the queen and there's a murder and a lot of intrigue.

This is how it begins:

Lady Balmoral’s Chef

Chapter 1

London, September 1897

If Helen Barton hadn’t stepped under an omnibus, I might well still be sweeping floors and lighting fires in that dreadful house in St. John’s Wood. But for once I had followed my father’s advice.

“Carpe diem,” was one of my father’s favorite sayings. Seize the day. Take your chances. He usually added ‘because that might be the only chance you get.”

He spoke from experience. He was an educated man, came from a good family, and had known better times. As a second son of the junior branch he could expect no title or property that went with it, and was sent out to India to make something of himself.  He had married my mother, a sweet and delicate creature he met on one of his visits home. It was soon clear that she couldn’t endure the harsh conditions of Bengal, so Daddy had been forced to bring her home to England.

Daddy had received no help from the family but at last had fallen on his feet in a way and had held what was considered a prestigious position: he was a receptionist and greeter at the Savoy, London’s new luxury hotel.  His ability to speak good French and know how to mingle with crowned heads had made him popular at the hotel. He had patted the hands of elderly Russian countesses and arranged roulette parties for dashing European princes, for which he received generous tips. We had lived quite happily in the small town of Hampstead, on the northern fringes of London. My sister and I attended a private school. We had a woman who came to clean and cook for us. It was not an extravagant life, but a pleasant one.

            Until it all came crashing down when the demon drink overcame my father. He worked at an establishment where the alcohol flowed freely among the guests. He was invited to take a glass and it would be rude to refuse. So who would notice if he finished off a bottle?  His visits to the public house became more frequent. And one day he was found drunk on the job. That meant instant dismissal. He tried in vain to find another position but with no reference no respectable establishment would want him. We watched him sink lower and lower into depression and drunkenness. My mother died around that time. She was a genteel and sweet person who adored my father. They said she died of pneumonia but I think it was of a broken heart.

            We moved to a squalid two room flat above a butcher’s shop, with only cold water and an outside lavatory. Father occasionally picked up work writing letters for the illiterate, tutoring in French, but nothing that kept the wolf far from the door. And so it was, just before my fifteenth birthday, that he announced he had found a position for me. I was to leave the school that I adored and to become a servant, so that I’d earn money to feed father and Louisa and someone else would have to feed and clothe me. I was more than shocked. I was mortified. We might not be rich but I was from a good family. And the house to which I was sent was that of a nouveau-riche man who had made money in the garment business. His factories turned out cheap blouses for working girls. He and his wife were loud-mouthed and common.

            I pleaded with my father not to do this.

            “It’s only for a short while, Bella,” he said, patting my hand. “I promise you as soon as I’m on my feet again I’ll bring you home. Until then you are helping to make sure that your little sister does not starve.”

            What could I say to that? He always was a great manipulator.

I'm dying to get on with it, but holiday shopping, decorating and parties keep intervening. However I shall enjoy spending time with Bella Waverly, Queen Victoria and a cast of naughty and nice characters. 

Queen Victoria and I explore Nice

RHYS BOWEN: Yesterday I talked about research for The Tuscan Child and today I'm going to share my initial research for a book I want to write next year that has to do with Queen Victoria and her time in Nice. Most people don't realize that, in her latter years, Queen Victoria spent her winters on the French Riviera. She tried several places: Cannes, Menton, Grasse, but finally settled on Nice.

The local inhabitants so appreciated the stature she brought to their town that they built an enormous new hotel for her. The Regina Excelsior. it stands on a hill, overlooking the town and the bay. The queen came here for four years in a row, bringing a retinue of 100, including Highland pipers, her bedroom furniture and a pony and trap and took over an entire wing of this hotel, including her own kitchen staff to cook for her.

It seemed too good not to write a story around this. I'm not going to tell you what the story is but I do want to share how I filled in the pieces for this story:

First I visited the area with the hotel, now luxury flats:

Then I browsed local used bookstores for books and photographs of the era. I found several brilliant books: one on the history of Cimiez (where she stayed), another on the British on the Riviera, one on the villas of Nice and their history. I found plenty of old postcards showing me the city in 1890 as well as the Carnival procession, the parade of flowers, which are destined to play a part in my story. The queen loved to throw flowers at handsome young men! I have so many good tidbits for my book already!

In the central library I found a really helpful librarian who hunted diligently and finally struck gold: The brochure published when the Regina Excelsior was opened. It had images of all the public rooms, the floor plans, the list of servants that the queen brought with her.. in fact everything I needed. Hooray for librarians (but it is lucky that I have a degree in French).

I rode a bus up to the waterfall which she loved to visit. So now I know the layout of the place where I want to set the story. All I have to do is to write it... but that has to wait until next year.

So dear Reds and Readers, how do you set about researching a setting for your books? Do you feel it's necessary that you have to visit the place in person?

And the winner of Dianne Freeman's book is RAMONA. Ramona, please email me at authorrhysbowen@gmail.com and I'll put you in touch with her.

Rhys on Research

RHYS BOWEN: Last week Karen gave you her report on our workshop in Tuscany. At the end of the ten days we went our separate ways and I headed north to Lake Maggiore to do research for my next Royal Spyness book.  I thought you might be interested to see what such research entails. When I’ve told people that I was heading to Nice or to Italy to do research, I see them grinning and thinking, “Right. Research. I don’t think.”

                Actually I do work quite hard, albeit in lovely surroundings. When I was writing Naughty in Nice I spent several days in the main library looking through old postcards and maps. After all streets and their names are always being changed in France. Princess Grace Boulevard would not have existed at the time I write about. I spent a fabulous morning at the hotel Negresco, wandering hallways and peering around corners, with the blessing of the management who suddenly decided I should be given free rein when I produced a card that said I was a bestselling author. I took lots of pictures and wandered streets (and ate and drank local food and wine, of course. All part of the research of bringing a place to life!)

.

                This time in Stresa I was most interested in finding a villa and gardens that matched the setting I wanted for Lady Georgie’s stay. I was fascinated by some of the villas that must once have been grand and have now been allowed to fall into ruins. (Tempted to buy one and restore it!) But I did see one lovely villa that would fit the bill and then there were gardens at Villa Tarranto and on the Isola Bella, both of which are incorporated into my Villa Gloriosa.

Also I was interested in the details of the conference that took place in Stresa in 1935 between Italy, France and England, deciding what to do about the Nazi threat. Where was it held? Who was there? I always like to bring real history into my stories and this conference was a gift—right time, right place. Then there was the train and steamer up to the Swiss part of the lake, as that also has to be part of my story. Where might there have been a famous clinic in 1935? And of course the Grand Hotel where Ernest Hemmingway stayed when he wrote “A Farewell to Arms”. Surely there was a way to bring that into the story!

                Above all I try to get the feel of a place: when I sit in the little square and drink coffee what do I see, hear, smell? It is deliciously cool in the shade of the sycamore trees. Sound echoes from the surrounding alleyways. Italians in conversation always sound as if they are about to break into a fight. And then there is the weather: morning clouds draped over the mountains. Wisps of cloud attached to the peaks like strands of sheep’s wool caught on a fence. The far side of the lake swallowed into blackness during a storm. Weather is always important in a story so I take pictures and make notes of every weather change.

                When I write a book my aim is to take my readers there, not tell them about it. If I’ve experienced it then hopefully they will took.  Watch out for the book next year. It’s called “On Her Majesty’s Frightfully Secret Service.”