Make Jell-O, make your husband happy
Immersing myself in 1916
May was a tumultuous month. My baby boy (I think he’s about seven years old now?) graduated from college. My baby girl (who must be five years old) moved to DC for the summer to be a congressional intern. While I’m very happy for both of them, I hope they remember to take naps when they’re cranky, to use their words, and say “please” and “thank you.”
This is not one of my children, but since I won’t post their pictures (read: they won’t let me), I’ll post one of my favorite DC friend.
I’ll think of something…
about shopping for research
I hate shopping. I find it utterly painful. Clothes? Meh. Shoes? Double meh. Do not send me into a store (unless of course it’s a bookstore, which problematic in every way for my wallet).
I do have one weakness though. Shopping online (or in person, if I can find them) for vintage magazines. There comes a point in the writing of each novel when I deem it necessary to own such magazines. Yes, many are online. Yes, it’s a frivolous purchase. Yes, much of this info could be found elsewhere. But there’s nothing like holding them, paging through them, feeling the glee that these copies were read over a century ago by the human to whom they are addressed.
I try to get into my characters head, as if she were reading these. What would she pause at? What recipe would she cut out? What piece of furnishing would she covet? How would she react to the editorials? I recently went on a shopping spree, purchasing three Ladies’ Home Journals from 1916 and 1918 and two House Beautifuls from 1916 and 1917. My work-in-progress takes place from 1911 to 1927. I chose these magazines because the 1916 ones show me life before the U.S. entered the Great War and the 1917/1918 ones let me see what it was like during the war.
The magazines are difficult to read, and I mean this literally (although, as a feminist, I suppose I mean it figuratively as well). The typeface is ridiculous and the Ladies’ Home Journal measures 15 1/2 inches by 11 inches, which means you have to commit to sitting down at a table with it; no idly reading in bed or on a couch. But then, of course, what wife and mother worth her salt would ever layabout in bed or on a couch, so I suppose the size of the magazine didn’t really matter.
Magazines are the best way to research history, with newspapers a close second. Things garnered from magazines: recipes, fashion, housework, furnishings, food, cost of items, beliefs, government affairs, the sense of humor of the time, slang and current language, and so much more. It’s a way to learn what was important to folks of a different time period.
The major downfall is how long I’ll spend in the magazines, reading way past what I really need. Then I want to share everything with friends who could not care less about it.
Me: Look at this ad! Making Jell-O for your husband will make him happy he married you. Isn’t that wild?
The world: Uh huh.
Me: I’ve got twelve other things to show you from just this page!
The world: Uh…
So, if you need me, I’ll up in my office, living life in 1916.
about live music
While we were on the West Coast for my baby boy’s graduation, I had the opportunity to see a good friend, S., who I met my freshman year of college and have stayed close to since. (I even dated her brother against her admonitions, but that’s a story for another day.) We didn’t get to spend a lot of time together, so it was a hurried catch-up while at Huntington Gardens. Off-handedly she mentioned that her brother-in-law and his wife were arriving in town that night.
“They are so ridiculous. They are flying in just for some dumb ‘80s concert.”
Naturally, as soon as I left S., I googled “dumb ‘80s concert.” And then I texted her a thank you. Because there was no way the husband and I were going to miss it. Yes, we had our children to think of. Yes, my own brother-in-law was in town as well for the graduation. Yes, I wasn’t going to get see all the people I wish I could have seen. Because hell if I were missing this festival, which took place in the town we were staying, the day before the graduation.
So we ditched the kids and went to the Cruel World Festival. The weather was pretty gross. The parking insane. Ditching the kids a little guilt-inducing.
Was it worth it? Hell, yes, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Next year I’ll be the one flying in to attend this festival. As any sane Gen Xer would do (sorry, S., the world agrees with me, not you).
Who did we see? Oh, some small name groups. Blancmange. Alison Moyet. OMD. Madness. Garbage. The Go-Gos. New Order. (The husband and I split up for some it so he could see the Stereo MC’s, Buzzcocks, Nick Cave, and The Death Cult [which is really The Cult].) These are two of my favorite bands that played:
If anyone wants to fly out next year, we can meet up at the “dumb ‘80s concert!” (S.? How ‘bout you? Want to meet us out there?)
about Bailey
Lucy has left us, so now Bailey can rule the roost once again.
Until next time, make good choices.
jennifer
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Vintage magazines are my favorite source of research for historical fiction, hands down!
Magazines are brilliant and I now must acquire some! #NoDak