Mining the Archives

 LUCY BURDETTE: I got to thinking about how long this wonderful group of writing women has been blogging, how many posts we've written over the years. That's 5261! And you've written 239,029 comments, if you believe Blogger's stats! Wow! First of all, we’ve shown our delight when a new book arrives on bookshelves. We've also had hundreds and hundreds of amazing guests, mostly authors but not always. Plus blog posts on so many topics from the mundane to the utterly serious. We've kept each other going during those horrible pandemic years, and through tragic losses, and everyday doldrums. We've celebrated so many happy occasions and traveled all over the world and eaten amazing food. It's kind of a shame to see the older posts fall into obscurity so I thought I'd ask all the Reds to recap a couple of their favorites. 

I love to write about traveling and share photos–I promise this blog about the Galapagos is better than a relative’s slide show--it's also lessons I learned while traveling. And here's one more, probably the most mind-blowing trip I will ever take--to India.

We've also gotten the men behind the Red women involved in blogging. Here's one about what happened when my hub retired. And this is an oldie but really goodie when we asked our husbands to blog. For some reason Julia's Ross didn't make it into that blog so he got his own...

And one more in which the Reds dish out (rather good) marriage advice…

HALLIE EPHRON: So much fun stuff out there! This was hard. As usual I defer to food…… an homage to canned soups and fruit cocktail.

And because it seems as if I completely lack any ability to remember what’s in my rearview mirror, this one that posted during Covid lockdown… I share it here because somehow it feels better to remember when things were worse, if even microscopically, than they are now. And I can always go for a good kvetch.

DEBORAH CROMBIE: So much fun scanning through the blogs! I love the blogs about food, and writing, and just weird stuff that only we could come up with.

This particular blog, from May 2017, I'm always going back to because I love Hallie's shrimp pancake recipe and I make it every summer when the zucchini is in season!

Here are a couple that jumped out at me from not long after I joined the REDs. This one, because I am in the midst of our very own Texas version of SAD, waiting for August to end. 

And this one, because it was so interesting to see some of our writing influences.

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN:  It's definitely hard to tell if we blog more about writing or more about food.  My very fave is my Christmas morning story, and ‘Twas the Night Before "poem,but I won't post those until the time comes round again.

But here's a midst-of-the-pandemic about dinner disasters. I still feel the same way about spaghetti squash.

Here's our happy fifteenth blog—and this photo was taken in Dallas, the last time we were all together in person before the pandemic hit. So that's unsettling.

Remember Wordle? Ha. Here's Where I tried—and failed—to convince you to play Tradle. Which I tried again TODAY, and still didn't win.

And here's one on food cravings, which I totally stand by.

And the memory of a life-changing experience.

JENN McKINLAY: So many blog posts to choose from! Ack! 

I went with an older one that I thought was poignant at the time. While it still is, I had no idea when I wrote it how much more life was going to throw at us all. It’s entitled MOTHERHOOD IS NOT FOR THE WEAK.

And the second one, is newer and skewed humorous. Now it seems more like a cautionary tale, given the rise of AI and what not. It’s called THE ROBOTS ARE COMING.

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: When I joined Jungle Reds, I expected it to be a great way to keep my name in front of the reading public, and to network with other authors. I had no idea it was going to turn into a living journal of my life with my family over a twelve year period (and counting!) I’ve written about teaching your teen to drive, and welcoming them back on midwinter break. I’ve shared my kids’ college tours and tours of duty.  We’ve had graduations from high school and from basic training. And, of course, I’ve shared my dear Ross - in his own words - and shared what it was like to be widowed at 56. 

The ups and downs of a perfectly ordinary life, captured in words and pictures right here. I’m looking forward to the posts about engagements, career successes, weddings and someday (fingers crossed) grandkids… 

Red Readers: Are there particular favorites that you all remember? I'm a huge fan of the 'what we're writing' weeks, but we'd love to hear what kind of posts do you most look forward to?

Keep Calm and Write On, a guest post by Jessica Ellicott

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: As most of you know by now, I love historical fiction. I majored in history in college, focused on early colonial history for my grad degree, and even wrote my law school thesis on 17th century law codes in Massachusetts. History is a story - it's no wonder it's had such appeal my whole life. 

And I used to wonder, what was it like to live through this time or that time? How did people live through political disruptions,  economic crises, war and plague? 

Well, now I know. Now we all know. But a lucky few, like historical mystery author Jessica Ellicott, actually get to spin gold from the mounds of straw we've all been dealing with.

 

 

Over the past couple of years, I’ve been very interested in the different ways that writers have experienced the pandemic. For some, the circumstances made work almost impossible. For others it provided conditions that fostered the most creative and productive period of their lives. For me, the situation created an unexpected learning opportunity.

 

At the beginning of 2020, before any of us knew what was about to unfold, I was hard at work on the novel that would become my new release, Death in a Blackout. Although it was not my first historical mystery, or even the first I set in the UK, I had yet to write a novel that took place during wartime.

 

I have to admit, I felt daunted. After all, how could I begin to put myself in the shoes of people who faced such overwhelming uncertainty, in so many areas of life, for years on end? How could I possibly understand what it was like to feel that the whole world had changed overnight and that life as everyone knew it, was suddenly upended?

 

Which is, of course, where the opportunity came in. Just as the enormity of the pandemic became clear I had begun research that involved spending day after day poring through back issues of the Hull Daily Mail circa 1940. As I read those old editions of an English newspaper it occurred to me that an insatiable craving for up-to-date news on global events was something I could now completely understand. Informational notices about new rules and regulations scattered throughout the pages from 1940 eerily echoed the ones I eagerly consumed from that day’s Washington Post or NYT.

 

A sense of interconnectedness, of how the impact on far-off places could be felt locally was another point of similarity. Articles enumerating the toll advancing troops had taken on the economies, freedom of movement and even on life itself in cities across the globe struck new chords in me. Even something as mundane as a trip to the grocer snapped some of the war years’ experience into focus. The small, but shocking, amount of inconvenience and discomfort brought on by notices announcing rations on meat or cleaning products, or toilet paper left me with a far greater sense of how unrelenting years of such deprivations could have worn a population down.

 

Enforced distance from loved ones was another thing I had been lucky enough not to experience regularly until March 2020. Knowing how it felt to be unable to simply set a time to meet up with a friend or family member added so much to my understanding of the lives of my characters. Holidays spent apart drove the lesson home even more, especially as one year turned to two with no guaranteed end in sight.

 

But I think what taught me the most and urged me on as I wrote the novel was living with so much uncertainty. One of the most challenging things, at least for me, about writing historical fiction is that, positioned as I am in the future, is to remember that my characters have no idea how things will turn out. They do not know that the Allies will be victorious or for how long the war will last or how many people will lose their lives any more than we knew the path of the pandemic when it all kicked off. Uncertainty was our constant companion as much as it was theirs.

 

Although I hope never to write another novel under similar circumstances, I am very grateful for the opportunity to feel a deeper connection to people of the past, to experience intense emotions that added to my work and to feel encouraged and uplifted by the example of others who found ways to make the best of a difficult situation.  After all, isn’t that the ultimate purpose of stories?

JULIA: Has the pandemic - or another event in your life - made you feel more connected to the past, dear readers? One lucky commentor will win a copy of  DEATH IN A BLACKOUT!

 

Agatha award nominee Jessica Ellicott loves fountain pens, red convertibles and throwing parties. She lives in northern New England with her dark and mysterious husband, exuberant children and a precocious poodle named Sam.

When away from her desk, she obsessively knits wool socks and enthusiastically speaks Portuguese with a shocking disregard for the rules of grammar. She indulges her passion for historical fiction and all things British by writing the Beryl and Edwina Mysteries and the WPC Harkness Mysteries.

 

Jessica’s books have received starred reviews from Publishers Weekly as well as from Library Journal. Her first novel won the Daphne du Maurier award for mystery. As Jessica Estevao she wrote the Change of Fortune Mysteries. When inspiration strikes, she writes contemporary mysteries as Jessie Crockett.

 

She loves to connect with readers via the Wickeds blog, FB, Instagram or through her newsletter.

What, This Old Thing?

 Julia Spencer-Fleming: I got the Christmas season Talbots catalogue the other day, and tossed it on top of its LL Bean, Boden and J Crew sisters on my special catalogue library, aka, the shelf by the toilet. I confess, I love clothing catalogues, which style outfits in ways you usually don't see on their websites, which concentrate on zooming in and giving you the front and back of every single item. (The days of purchasing from the catalogues themselves is long gone, though I understand you can still call LL Bean and get a friendly, helpful Mainer to take your order.)

Usually, this time of year, I'm circling items and letting the kids know I'd love this sweater or that scarf. Or in stores, while shopping for others, I'd snap outfits I like and share the picture in our group chat. (When Ross was alive, I'd send the picture to one of the girls, who would physically take him to the store and guide him to the item. Thanks, girls!) I LOVE winter clothing, and let's face it, winter lasts a long time here in Maine. Show me some red and black checked pants or a cardigan with a fur collar, and I'm a happy woman.

But this year?

Nuthin'.

I mean, I asked for some heavy-duty socks to wear when walking the dog, and a new pair of gloves because I never seem to keep both together for more than two years in a row. But a sparkling sweater perfect for wearing to the symphony? Don't need it. Adorable half-boots for meeting friends for brunch? Don't need those. New earrings? Forget it, they just get tangled in my mask.

It's amazing to realize how few clothes you really need when you never go anywhere. I have a Zoom shirt - what else am I going to wear to dress up? I have yoga pants and flannel pajama bottoms and knit leggings for indoors, and jeans for dogwalking and working outside. I look at Talbots adorable plaid ankle length pants, but even at 50% off...

Besides, who wants to wear a waistband in the house?

I suppose the real lesson is that I never did need twenty pairs of pants and thirty shirts and I-can't-even-count how many sweaters. I wonder, when this is all over, if we'll all become a bit minimalist when it comes to our wardrobes. Maybe we can emulate the French, who famously have a few pieces of clothing of excellent quality. When putting my summer clothes in the attic and bringing down my winter things, an annual ritual for cold-weather climes, I realized I had THREE pairs of black dress trousers. Why? I picked one and put the other two on the Goodwill pile.

So despite the allure of cute and cozy winter knits, there will be no clothes on my Christmas wish list. With quarantine stretching out until at least the summer, and perhaps longer, I simply can't justify the expense (not to mention the eternal issue of storage space.) I work at home, I walk the dog, I got those covered.

Although I did see an amazing set of cashmere lounging pajamas...

How about you, dear readers? Is your wardrobe growing, shrinking, or maintaining?