Snow Moon at Eyre Hall, is not the last novel in the series (I’m in the process of writing Book 6), and although it’s Book 5, I realised as I wrote it that Snow Moon is the most important novel in The Eyre Hall Series, because it contains the climax and resolution of the Blood Moon Prophecy announced in Blood Moon at Eyre Hall.
Its dramatic and cathartic moments make it the most gut wrenching and revealing novel of them all. Snow Moon at Eyre Hall is free today, but In this case, I strongly suggest you read the previous novels in the series first. But that’s no excuse not to download the novel today! Once you start this unputdownable series, you’ll get to Book 5 in no time!
There have been plenty of morally unforgiveable and legally criminal actions, malicious lies and dark secrets revealed in The Eyre Hall Series. But they didn’t all come exclusively from my own overactive imagination. Many of them were inspired directly from the evidence, clues, and hints I found rereading the many spaces between the lines of Jane Eyre.
From Pantser to Plotter and back to Pantser
As I told you in a previous post, All Hallows was unplotted. I just followed my character’s needs, feelings, and instructions, most of the time. The following novels were plotted, in my mind mostly. I knew what was going to happen from start to finish, because before I started writing I had ‘spoken’ to the characters and woven my story. Snow Moon was different. I was writing with no specific preconceived plan. By then, I knew my characters so well, it was easy and liberating to just ‘let them get on with their lives‘.
I soon realised that the characters and events in Snow Moon were taking me to a dark place, one that had been expecting me from the beginning: the attic at Thornfield Hall. And it all clicked; I understood that Bertha Antoinetta, mostly silent in my novel, needed to be heard and reinstated after centuries of physical and emotional abuse and accusations of madness (Although in Blood Moon, we read part of her diary, but I don’t want to give away too much!).
When I finished writing Snow Moon, I realised events narrated in this novel are the real reason I wrote this series. They contain the secret to understanding Jane Eyre, the novel, and Bertha Antoinetta Mason, the silent, invisible, abused, ignored, yet ever present, essential character. There is no Jane Eyre without Jane, but there is no Jane Eyre without Bertha Antoinetta, Jane’s emotional, psychological and material antagonist, and her dark double.
I decided to extend the initial Trilogy, because I realised it was incomplete, but I didn’t understand why until I finished writing Snow Moon. The circle has finally closed and the amends Bertha Antoinetta deserved are made.
Book six, Midsummer at Eyre Hall, fulfils other aspects of the characters evolution and needs, and moves the story on in a new direction, but more about Midsummer in future posts.
I hope to have the chance to read Snow Moon, and if so, I’d love to know your opinion on Bertha Antoinetta Mason and her retribution in this novel.
Thunder Moon at Eyre Hall is Book 4 in The Eyre Hall Series, but even if you haven’t read the first three books I’ve mentioned in earlier posts, Thunder Moon is free today on Amazon, and I’m sure that when you’ve read the previous books in the series, you’ll be impatient to read Thunder Moon, too, so don’t miss out!
And those of you you read the first three books in the original Eyre Hall Trilogy are in for a treat, as your favourite characters are back for books four and five! And book 6 is coming in 2027.
As you must have already gathered, I love drama and dramatic twists, and I warn you, Thunder Moon is not for the faint hearted. I pushed my love of drama to the limits. It is, at times, a very dark novel, the darkest in the series, as the name suggests.
I had a hard time researching and writing parts of Thunder Moon, but it’s where the previous novels’ events and the characters’ situations and intentions drove my narrative. Victorian times were not easy for a wealthy widow with powerful, ruthless, and dangerous enemies, and what happens to Jane in this novel was not infrequent, in fact it’s based on real events I’ll be discussing in a future post.
But worry not, Dear reader! You won’t be clutching your kindle with white knuckles all the time, fortunately, Jane also has loyal friends, unconditional love, and magical moments I know you’ll love.
Please, Lord, do not let me lose my mind in this dreadful place. Help me preserve my sanity. I must return to Michael and Helen at Eyre Hall. I have been removed to this terrifying house in a fraudulent manner, deprived of my freedom, and caged in an infernal cave like an animal.
I was dragged to this disturbing place and ensnared in a cage twelve nights ago by a group of armed men who barged into Eyre Hall while I was alone. I resisted, but they forced me into a carriage and brought me here in the dead of night. I do not know where I am, except that it is over four hours’ drive from home.
I have been maliciously confined, and even if I managed to escape, I do not know in which direction I should flee. There are thick woods to the north, east and west, and I have no idea what lies to the south, as I have not yet seen that part of the house or grounds. Although I have only been here for a short time, my captivity is already proving unbearable.
My first days were distressing. I was not allowed to wash or wear clean clothes. They said they were waiting for my trunk, but I told them I did not want a trunk, because I wanted to go home, and they brought me a grey flannel dress, which was so long that the skirt dragged along the floor and so coarse that it scraped my skin like sandpaper.
When I asked Mrs Mills, the person who seems to be in charge of us, if I could wash, she laughed and said the showers were only for those who caused trouble. I was given a basin and some cold water; no soap or ointments. My face was dry and my lips were parched, so I asked for the toiletries I was accustomed to using, and that was when I discovered where I was. Mrs Mills laughed again and told me it was not a guesthouse, but an asylum for the mentally insane.
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And so the drama begins… Pick up your copy today! You’ll be thrilled, appalled, shocked, relieved, overjoyed and captivated by Thunder Moon at Eyre Hall.
I hope to have the chance to read Thunder Moon, and if so, I’d love to know what surprised or shocked you most about the events and characters’ reactions.
In my previous post I told you about the very first novel I wrote, All Hallows at Eyre Hall, originally Book I of the Eyre Hall Series. Six years later, I published a prequel, to the series, Blood Moon at Eyre Hall, so now it’s book II, and today I’d like to tell you about the second book I wrote, which is now Book III in the Eyre Hall Series, Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall which I’m immensely proud to announce is currently at number 9 in the Bestselling rank of Amazon’s Historical Thrillers!And today Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall is free on Amazon!
All Hallows, as I mentioned a few days ago, was my first naïve attempt at writing a novel, which involved a great deal of insecurities, nail-biting and rewriting, but then came Twelfth Night, and it was like a breath of fresh air! I didn’t consciously become a plotter, the whole story took over my mind, literally. I even dreamt with the characters and the scenes I later wrote, and although that happens to me often when I’m caught in the creative burst of writing a novel, it was a new experience for me. All I had to do was write the story that had overtaken my mind. Of course I had to edit and polish the first draft, afterwards, but writing that first draft was glorious. I’ll never forget the sense of power and freedom I felt as the words flew first from my pen onto paper and then onto the screen. First I’d scribble rough notes of what I had literally ‘seen’ in my mind, and later, I’d type it all out on my computer, in a fuller, more polished version.
Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall has everything you love in exciting and dramatic historical novels: romance, heartbreak, pirates, transatlantic journeys including pirates, criminal activities in Victorian London, as well as scenes at Eyre Hall in Yorkshire, supernatural elements, stolen identities and dark secrets revealed, a murder investigation… What can I say? I had such fun and angst writing it and I’m sure that you will too!
In an ideal world, as it’s book three, you should have read books one and two first, but hey! It’s not an ideal world :) You could read the previous books later, if you’re that curious, but I bet you’ll want to continue with Book 4,Thunder Moon at Eyre Hall! Not because there’s a cliff hanger, because there isn’t, but you’ll be dying to find out how the series continues, and I promise you it’s an unputdownable continuation, even if I do say so myself! But more on Thunder Moon soon!
I hope you have the chance to read Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall, and I’d love to know what you enjoyed most about the story.
I published All Hallows at Eyre Hall, my very first novel, twelve years ago, I had read hundreds of novels, taught literature to undergraduate students and secondary school English teachers, but I later realised, I had no idea how to write a novel.
I had a protagonist, Jane Eyre, a place, Eyre Hall (rebuilt on the site of Thornfield), A time, twenty-two years after she became Mrs Rochester, and an antagonist, Richard Mason, and I started writing…
I stepped out of the carriage onto the soggy gravel, adjusted my cloak and hat, and looked up to the rebuilt mansion for the first time.
Twenty-three years had passed since my last visit to another house in this same spot, when I was bitten by a raging lioness fighting to preserve her offspring and her reason. My bones shivered. My sister had been wronged, my niece had been wronged, and my mission was to settle the injustice before the funeral.
The sharp smell of burning coal reminded me that there were fireplaces in this gloomy, damp climate, in which I could not envisage my ancestors ever having lived.
My eyes travelled up to the top floor and tower, wrapped in a vaporous cloud, and down again to the ground floor casements, which rose from the ground, symmetrically sliced into squares, stood out like prison bars. I could sense the witch was there watching me. I fancied her slight shadow floating over the curtains, and imagined curious fingers pulling back the heavy dark fabric in an effort to catch a glimpse of my arrival. I had received no answer to my message requesting an encounter, but I prayed she would be curious enough to converse with me.
I took an instant dislike to the sturdy valet who announced my visit. He had no business staring at me as if he were my equal when I told him my name and the purpose of my visit. His eyes bore into my back as I entered, instead of leaving at once.
The woman who was waiting for me looked exactly the same as the last time I had seen her, slight and ethereal, a trembling debutante underneath her pathetic white veil.
She slid towards me as if she were floating over the dark, Persian carpet, held out her hand limply and spoke.
“What brings you here, Mr. Mason?” She asked coolly.
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That is the final polished version of the first paragraphs I first wrote in the summer of 2013. I had no plan, so I became a ‘pantser’, for the first and only time. It was a wonderful experience, but it was also frustrating because it led to a great deal of rewriting. I’m no longer a ‘pantser’, but I’m not a strict plotter either. I’ve written seven novels since then, six in English and one in Spanish, and I still start my novels with only four things on my mind: a character, a place, a specific time, and an antagonist, which can be a person or a circumstance, or the best of both worlds, a person who brings a problem, and the bigger the better! I love reading and writing drama. It keeps me both turning and writing pages! And that’s as far as I plot, at least at the beginning.
Once I reach the end of Act I, for me that’s about 30-40,000 words, when I can see my story becoming a full length novel. At that point, I start thinking of possible complications and solutions, plot points, twists and turns, more characters and places, backstories, etc…
I plot as I go, one step at a time, until I ‘see’ the final scene, or end, and then I get serious about making sure it all flows smoothly and coherently, based on my characters wants and needs. I ask them what I need to know and listen to their answers carefully, because they drive my story. I write as honestly as I can. For me that means I let them grow and change their minds, but I never betray them.
And so we come to the next part of the first scene, when Richard Mason, who narrates this chapter, replies to Jane’s question:
***********************
It took me a few seconds to reply, taken aback by her unprecedented assertiveness and waiting for the defiant-looking servant to leave. I glanced his way and coughed, but he stood unmoved, like a guard dog, waiting for a sign from his mistress.
“I have some urgent business with Mr. Rochester.”
“He is not receiving any visitors at the moment.”
“Yet, I must speak to him.”
“That will not be possible. In any case, I cannot imagine what business you should have with my husband.”
She had been suitably lured and was eager to discover the reason for my visit. “I would not wish to bother you with certain unpleasant matters, madam.”
“I am afraid you will have to deal with me from now on, Mr. Mason, so proceed.”
‘They are private matters,’ I added, glancing once again at her sentinel, who was still ready to pounce.
I wondered how much she had already discovered about her husband’s finances and offences. He was a dark horse, if ever there was one.
‘Thank you, Michael,’ she smiled at her watchdog, who unclenched his fists and took a step backwards. ‘Could you ask Beth to bring us some tea, please?’
He nodded and left, not without shooting me a threatening stare. How dare he? Who did he think he was? I would be dealing with his insolence shortly. Little did he suspect his days at Eyre Hall were numbered.
“Please sit down, Mr. Mason.”
**********
And that was when the magic happened and the fictional love of my life was born.
At first, her valet, Michael Kirkpatrick, was just an ally Jane needed in that first scene. But over the six-book series he has gradually become the second main character, and in the final book in the series, which I am currently writing, he is the main protagonist.
That’s the magic of part-time-pantsing; for a while, the writer has no idea what might happen…
Although I wrote All Hallows at Eyre Hall, in 2013, I later revised the whole series, and in 2020, All Hallows became book two. I wrote ‘Blood Moon at Eyre Hall‘, the prequel to All Hallows, and the series, because I realised that many readers hadn’t actually read Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, and they needed some more back story.
However, if you are one of the lucky readers who knows all about Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, All Hallows at Eyre Hall is a great place to start reading the series, and today, Both Blood Moon and All Hallows are on offer as free e-books, and if you’re still reading this post, I’m positive you’ll love the Eyre Hall Series. And if you do download and read it, I’d appreciate a review, or even better, let me know what you think by replying to this comment.
I love writing haiku. The only thing that I find remotely similar, but far quicker, is snapping photos. Both actions try to defy time. They capture an instant and freeze time. This creates the illusion that I’m stopping the clock. However, I’m not, because we can’t. We can’t even remember most moments in a single day.
Think of how immense the task would be if we tried to remember every moment. There are 86,400 seconds in a day. There are 604,800 seconds in a week. My calculator tells me there are 31,536,000 seconds in a year. Just wow!
A haiku is magical. It makes the instant eternal. The moment we capture lasts forever. That’s the power of a haiku.
How Haiku help me be a saner, more reflective and observant person, and a better writer
Apart from capturing the moment I love haiku because that help me in three ways:
Calm down when I’m stressed out: I look at photos on my phone. I also look at photos around me wherever I am. Believe me, it’s possible. I hate the travelling by Tube, but even so, I’ve written loads of haiku inspired by the surroundings, as I waited to get out to fresh air.
I ‘see’ and ‘hear’ and ‘feel more’. When I go for a walk with the goal of taking a photo, or getting inspiration for writing, I actually ‘look’ at the world, nature or otherwise with the intention of being present. I notice more, and I feel more attuned to my surroundings.
Improve my writing skills. I constantly fight against my verbosity. My aim is to be concise and precise in my fiction. Writing flash fiction and haiku has been a tremendous help. It still is. I’ve learned that every word counts. Every single syllable counts too. I make an effort to translate the strategies of brevity and variety into my fiction.
Now for the nitty gritty, which you already know, but just in case…
Structure, Rules and Recommendations
That said, before we start, haiku also have a structure and rules. You probably know these rules. Just in case, here are six basic rules and the same number of recommendations.
RULES & STRUCTURE (these are all flexible, but let’s try and stick to the first one, at least!)
17 Syllables
Line 1: 5 syllables
Line 2: 7 syllables
Line 3: 5 syllables
Rhyme: No rhyme.
Based on observation: usually, not exclusively, of nature.
RECOMMENDATIONS
Theme: Often, but not exclusively, nature-based, like focusing on a season, the sky, etc.
Present tense: Usually written in the present tense, capturing a brief moment.
Juxtaposition: Haiku often juxtaposes two images or ideas. This creates a deeper meaning. It evokes a feeling or provokes reflection in the reader.
A moment of insight: The haiku conveys a single moment. It is when the poet suddenly sees something significant. The moment can also be when the poet realizes, remembers, feels, or thinks about something important.
Vivid images: The idea is brought vividly to life.
The haiku usually has two parts: The first two lines create a scene or an image. The final line suggests the poet’s interpretation of the first image. This is often a break or contrast with the first part.
Now I need your help!
I love writing haiku. However, I often encounter trouble with the final turning point. I also have doubts with the realisation or punch line, as I like to think of it.
So, here’s my version, but I’ve listed 10 alternate last lines. Would you help me by choosing the one you prefer or even suggesting another final line!
If you have an August haiku you’d like to share, I’d love to read it in the comments. Please post a link in the comments, too, if you’ve published it on your blog.
Last month marked the 5-Year Anniversary of the 2020 lockdown
It was a hard year for all of us. In my case it came with family hardships—my mother’s illness, my eldest daughter’s divorce, my youngest daughter’s pregnancy and childbirth, the lockdown, and the fear of losing everything I valued: my life, my children, my grandchildren, my health, my hopes and dreams for a quiet retirement. It was a time of overwhelming fear, not just for myself, but for everyone I knew and the world at large. The uncertainty and doubt were paralyzing, yet most of us pulled through. We survived, but not unscarred.
Lessons Learned
The lessons I learned during that time are ones I hope I’ll never forget, although my memories are often selective and choose to forget the pain. But I want to remember what I learned and how the lessons were learned. Now the storm has passed, those who have survived, must soothe our weeping hearts, reliving the pain, hearts dare not forget. I’ve grown wiser, kinder, and less careless with my fragile feelings. I’m more grateful for the life I feel fortunate to still have.
I longed to feel the warm hugs of family and friends I hadn’t seen for months. I remember the silence—a strange, empty silence that was as terrifying as my fear that it would never end. It was a silence I pray I’ll never hear again, the silence of death and loss and emptiness.
Hardest Moments
One specific moment that stands out was when I had to travel from the South of Spain to the North to visit my mother who was taken ill in hospital. I was allowed to spend most of the day at the hospital with her, but it was a traumatic experience. I wore two masks (at the same time, just in case), washed my hands obsessively, and lived in constant fear of getting COVID. My children called me daily, urging me to be careful. Fortunately, my mother recovered, and was able to leave the hospital, and I never caught the virus, but the fear was a dark shadow at my side.
Shortly after, I had to travel to Munich because my fifth grandson had just been born. If any of you flew in the summer of 2020, you will remember there were very few flights, scarcely populated airport lounges, and we weren’t able to sit next to anyone, anywhere in the building, or on the plane, plus, of course the dreaded masks. The silence on board was as ominous as the silence in the streets.
How I coped
Through it all, I learned that we are stronger and more resilient than we think. We pulled through, in spite of the fear, and in many cases, loss of loved ones. This proven resilience shows how much we can endure and overcome in challenging times.
How did I cope? I walked—a lot. Most days I walked 10,000 steps without leaving home, pacing up and down the stairs and around my small garden as I chatted or listened to podcasts. I couldn’t sit still; the nervous energy was overwhelming. I started meditating and journaling daily, a practice I still keep up. Reading on my kindle and listening on Audible, as well as writing filled many of my hours. Chatting to loved ones on the phone also helped immensely. I watched films and series on streaming platforms and followed many youtubers. Fortunately, I wasn’t alone—my husband was by my side, sharing the same fears and struggles, although at least he seemed much calmer than I felt, but who knows? We all express our worries in diverse ways, don’t we?.
You’ve Got This!
The pandemic was a giant storm, but we face smaller storms every day. It’s through these storms that we grow. Life’s difficult moments teach us the most important lessons. Life is a miracle, and we are all part of this miracle. As long as we hang on to our hopes, dreams will happen. We did it once and we can do it again; we can make the world a better place for us all.
However dark the night, the sun will always rise at dawn. We can make our lives a little better every day. We can overcome the little storms that try to spoil our days. Compared to the great storm of the pandemic, these are just puddles on the sidewalk. You’ve got this!
How did you cope during the 2020 lockdown and what lessons did you learn?Share your experience in the comments.
It’s been raining cats and dogs for weeks here in Andalucia, Spain—a soggy rebellion against our usual 300 days of sun. I’m starting to think the clouds have forgotten they’re not supposed to be here so long! Normally, I’d soak up the inspiration—rain’s a writer’s best friend, especially with a book by the window—but even muses can overstay their welcome, and my boots and raincoat are begging for a break. This morning, though, I caught myself staring at the raindrops over my coffee, mesmerised by the show the relentless little daredevils put on, hurling themselves at windowpanes, ricocheting off leaves, bouncing off cars and umbrellas like ping-pong balls. I decided they deserved a tribute, so I brewed up a haiku for all the brave drops trembling on the edge before they take the plunge. What would you tell these noisy poets of the storm? I’m half-tempted to whisper, “Isn’t it time for your siesta!”
Enjoy, stay dry and take care! By the way, if you’re looking for an engaging historical saga set in Victorian England, you might like to check out my Eyre Hall Series
