I’m very excited to unveil the
cover of my forthcoming novel, Bronte’s
Mistress:
 |
| Bronte's Mistress, Finola Austin (2020) |
If you want updates about its publication
in 2020 then make sure you sign up for email alerts using the form below.
Saturday 23 November 2019
Neo-Victorian Voices: The Doll Factory, Elizabeth Macneal (2019)
My Neo-Victorian Voices series is
dedicated to books written in the twenty-first century, but set in the
nineteenth. Last time, I reviewed Marley,
Jon Clinch’s 2019 novel about Scrooge’s business partner from Charles Dickens’s
1843 A Christmas Carol. This time I’m
writing about Elizabeth Macneal’s debut novel, The Doll Factory, which is set in 1850s London.
The Doll Factory is
the story of Iris, who spends her days painting dolls for a laudanum-addicted
shop owner, and working alongside her disfigured twin sister. Her life changes
forever after meeting two men—Louis Frost, fictional member of the real-life
group of artists known as the Pre Raphaelite Brotherhood (PRB), and Silas, a
lonely taxidermist and curator of curiosities. Iris has artistic aspirations of
her own and so agrees to model for Louis, despite her parents’ and sister’s
opposition and concern for her virtue. Meanwhile, Silas grows increasingly
obsessed with her, fantasising about adding her to his morbid collection.
 |
| The Doll Factory (2019) |
The novel is dark and certainly
not for the squeamish, but there are moments of levity too. The PRB’s dinner and
pub conversation is well wrought and believable, and their quirks add colour
and interest. Macneal includes anecdotes both real and apocryphal about William Holman Hunt, John Everett Millais,
Dante Gabriel Rossetti et al., from
imperilling their models by posing them in bathtubs to killing an unfortunate
wombat that ate a box of their cigars.
I also found a secondary point of
view character, Albie, particularly compelling. He’s a single-toothed street
urchin who brings Silas dead animals and dreams of one day earning enough money
to buy a set of fake gnashers (that or saving his sister from prostitution). The
conclusion to his story was one of the best paragraphs of a beautifully written
book.
But the heart of the novel is how
well Macneal paints Silas, with his delusions, fixations and obsessions. If you
enjoy getting into the heads of creepy and amoral characters, this novel is a
wonderful exercise in understanding a disturbed mind. If you’d prefer to stick
with the heroes, this won’t be for you. In this regard, the novel reminded me
of Catherine Chidgey’s 2005 The Transformation,
which I also reviewed for this series and very much enjoyed. The denouement of The Doll Factory, which brings Silas and
Iris together, keeps you guessing and is hard to put down. Warning: you might
miss your subway stop.
 |
| Elizabeth Macneal (1988- ) |
There’s just enough time and
space dedicated to the technicalities of painting for readers with a particular
interest in the art. And the Great Exhibition provides a wonderful historical
backdrop to the vents of the novel. If I had to quibble, I’d say the love story
isn’t as successful as the rest of the book, but this may be a question of
personal taste. No spoilers here, but I was longing to see Iris choose for
herself vs. being chosen and yearned for an even greater contrast between Louis
and Silas’s desire to own her, especially towards the end. Overall, The Doll Factory is more than worthy of
the attention it’s received. If you love the Gothic and Victoriana that’s more macabre
than Christmassy, this one’s for you!
Do you have recommendations for
which novel I should review next as part of my Neo-Victorian Voices series? Let
me know—here, on Facebook or by tweeting @SVictorianist.
And if you want email updates
about my own forthcoming novel, Bronte’s
Mistress, which tells the story of Lydia Robinson, the older woman who had
an affair with Branwell Bronte, sign up for my mailing list below.
Thursday 14 November 2019
Writers’ Questions: How do I find a literary agent?
I’ve been blogging about
historical fiction for the last six years, but, in August 2020, my own debut
novel, Bronte’s Mistress, will be released by Atria Books (more on
this here). In this series, Writers’ Questions, I’m sharing some advice about
the writing and publication process to help fellow writers. Last time, I wrote about ‘thought verbs’ and how filtering language might be
harming your novel. This time we’re talking the first step towards being traditionally
published—finding a literary agent.
For most genres, being
represented by an agent is crucial for landing a deal with a large publishing
house. But how do you go about finding the agent(s) who are best for you?
Below, I lay out some avenues to explore.
 |
| Browne & Miller Literary Associates - the agency I signed with |
The Acknowledgments of novels you like
At the back of almost all novels,
writers thank the people in their lives who made writing and publishing their
books possible. Unsurprisingly, agents are often at the top of these lists.
You’re already reading widely in your genre (aren’t you?), so make sure you
read the Acknowledgments of recent novels that seem similar to yours and
research the agents mentioned there.
Querytracker
This website is a huge database
of literary agents, which you can search (e.g. by genre and location). What’s
more, there’s extensive crowd-sourced data about agents’ response rates and
times, which you’ll love if, like me, you get a little obsessed while in the
query trenches. Submit your own rejections and requests to keep track and share
info with fellow writers.
PW.org
The Poets & Writers website
also houses a (shorter) list of agents, detailing their preferred genres, some
existing clients and query format preferences.
Agent Query
A third database is Agent Query.
I still found this site helpful, although the user interface isn’t as easy as
Querytracker or PW to navigate.
Manuscript Wish List
The Manuscript Wish List website
is a wonderful resource for those seeking representation. Here, agents and
editors list not just genres but more specific details of about the books on
their submissions ‘wish lists’. Use specific search terms (e.g. I looked for
terms including “Bronte” and “Victorian”) to find agents who might be your
perfect match. You can also search “#MSWL” on Twitter to surface agent tweets
about what they’re looking for. Double up search terms e.g. “#MSWL historical”
to get the lay of the land for what agents are seeking in a genre.
Writers' & Artists’ Yearbook
My agent, like me, is based in
the US. But when I was querying I researched both American and British
agencies. If you’re in or linked to the UK, the Writers' & Artists' Yearbook
should be your bible. This book comes out annually and gives you an overview of
all British literary agencies and their submission preferences.
Interviews on writerly websites and podcasts
Writing-related publications
often profile agents, especially those earlier on in their careers who are
actively looking to grow their client list. Writer’s Digest is a great place to
start to find these interviews but read/listen widely to find other relevant
content.
Writing conferences
Many writing conferences give you
the chance to pitch live to agents (for a fee). Conferences are an expensive
option but may be worth it depending on the attendees and agenda. Do your
research to find the conferences that are relevant and achievable for you. I’ve
personally attended and enjoyed the Writer’s Digest Annual Conference and the
Historical Novel Society Conference but found both more useful for connecting
with other writers than those in the publishing industry.
Contests
Another paid option is entering
contests for unpublished writers that boast a literary agent judge. Just do
your due diligence about the contest organisers and format. You don’t want to
be scammed or to sign away the rights to your hard work by not reading the small
print.
So there you have it—a variety of
ways you can go about finding your agent. As part of this series, I’m also
planning posts on why literary agents are so necessary and the querying
process, so let me know if you have other questions you’d love me to answer on agents.
As ever, you can connect with me here, on Facebook, or by tweeting
@SVictorianist.
And if you want updates on
Bronte’s Mistress, make sure you sign up for my email newsletter below.
Monday 4 November 2019
Neo-Victorian Voices: Marley, Jon Clinch (2019)
The latest novel I’m reviewing as
part of my Neo-Victorian Voices series of novels set in the nineteenth century,
but written in the twenty-first, was a delight. Jon Clinch’s Marley breathes life into Ebenezer
Scrooge’s deceased business partner, who returns to haunt him in Charles
Dickens’s beloved A Christmas Carol
(1843).
How did Scrooge and Marley meet?
How exactly did they make their money? And what turned Scrooge into the
decidedly un-festive miser we meet at the start of Dickens’s novella? Clinch
answers all these questions and more in his assured double portrait of the two
characters and their combative partnership.
 |
| Marley (2019) |
Products of a brutal boys’
boarding school, Marley makes the money, while Scrooge keeps the accounts and
asks no questions, until the latter’s sweetheart demands their firm exit the
slave trade. Scrooge is soon following the thread to unravel the lies Marley
has been spinning for him throughout their acquaintance and learning that his
partner goes by more than one name.
This is one of the greatest joys
of the novel—how Clinch creates cameos for other Dickensian characters in
Marley’s many aliases. We don’t just learn the backstories of clerk Bob
Cratchit and Scrooge’s nephew, Fred. We see a whole new side to Bleak House (1852-1853)’s Inspector
Bucket, who may just be acting on the wrong side of the law. Indeed, Marley/Clinch’s
fictional characters and companies are so well named that it’s hard to identify
which are the Dickensian and which the faux-Dickensian.
 |
| Jon Clinch |
But this isn’t just a great
imitation. Clinch’s tale of greed and fraud reads as relevant and modern. His
cityscape is darker than Dickens’s and his ending can afford to be brutal. This
is in part because readers can choose to imagine the familiar conclusion of
Scrooge’s tale in A Christmas Carol
if they want to escape the bleakness.
Dickens tells us, “Marley was dead: to begin with.” But Clinch creates a new beginning that
brings even more pathos and drama to a Christmas classic.
Which novel would you
like to see the Secret Victorianist review next as part of my Neo-Victorian Voices series? Let me know—here, on Facebook or by tweeting @SVictorianist.
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