As I write, I’ve got 40 minutes to get inside before I could potentially be arrested. San Jose, California has a covid-related curfew that makes it unlawful to be out between the hours of 10pm and 5am. I’m not sure how strictly the curfew is being obeyed, not to mention enforced. It was the latest increasingly strict measure required by people not obeying the previous measure.
When I was growing up in Somerville, Massachusetts, it was well-understood by all us kids that the time to come in the house for the evening was when the streetlights turned on. The lights were controlled by a photocell, so we all got longer after-dinner play times during the summer. It was a simple system based on an indirect measure of the tilt of the Earth’s axis and it worked. Pleas for longer time were rarely granted.
Being a writer, I ponder the origins of interesting words that I encounter. Recently, I came across a picture of a brass fireplace implement called a “curfew” and wondered how it related to the modern meaning.
The curfew was a metal or terra cotta dome that was placed over the remains of the coals in the hearth or stove to prevent the fire from spreading while also preventing the coals from being extinguished. (“Curfew” stems from the French “couvre-feu”, to cover the fire.) It was a fine line between the disaster of a house fire and the hassle of re-kindling a cold fire in the morning. A bell would toll announcing the curfew—-the time to cover up the hearth fire for the night. The practice is ancient and predates the Norman Invasion in England.
Of course, now the curfew is meant to get everyone out of the bars and in their home to limit the spread of the coronavirus. Let’s hope that don’t need either type of curfew for very much longer in the future.
As part of Smashwords’ “Authors Give Back” sale, I’ve reduced the price of the first book in the Airship Flamel Adventures series, “The Secret Notebook of Michael Faraday” (e-book version) to FREE until April 20, 2020.
Here’s the synopsis:
Nicodemus Boffin rose from a boyhood in the ash heaps of East London to reach the pinnacles of British science when he is mentored by the great scientist, Michael Faraday. When Nicodemus finds a secret laboratory notebook in which Faraday has described incomprehensible experiments, Nicodemus wonders if his mentor has discovered a new science, or lost his faculties. Nicodemus’s rival, the Viscount Whitehall-Barnes, seeks to gain the notebook by any means necessary to study the descriptions of a strange orange mineral with unusual properties which he believes is the alchemists’ Philosopher’s Stone. Realizing that the Viscount must never learn the secrets of the orange stone, Nicodemus takes action to keep the knowledge hidden, protect his family, and preserve the legacy of his mentor.
Available in many e-book formats: epub mobi pdf lrf pdb txt html
Sale ends on April 20, 2020.
I hope it gives you a bit of an escape in these anxious times.
On Thursday, 22 November, the United States celebrates Thanksgiving. While, I’m guessing, no other country celebrates giving thanks for what one has on the Fourth Thursday of November (Even Canada celebrates Thanksgiving in October, which I’ve always attributed–perhaps wrongly–to the shorter growing season in the Great White North.), most cultures have some sort of thanks giving holiday.
Google has published an interesting article using the plethora of data they acquire through people asking questions like, “How do I cook a turkey?” or maybe, “Where can I buy a pre-cooked turkey?”, if they were caught short with the unusually early Fourth Thursday in November this year. However, a couple of interesting trends emerge from Google’s analysis. First, pretty much only the northeastern US actually roasts turkey. I grew up in Massachusetts where those religious refugees, the Pilgrims, apocryphally celebrated the first Thanksgiving, and I can’t think of preparing turkey any other way than roasting. What Google categorizes as “Fried”, I have to think must be deep-fried, and I would like to watch that happen, if only for the potential pyrotechnics.
Apple pie, another New England tradition, falls to third place behind pumpkin and pecan. Pecan I’ll leave to the southerners. I don’t even like nuts in my fruit cake. The number one Thanksgiving pie is pumpkin, which I know some people (like my wife) love. I find the very idea of making a pie from the same slimy thing I carve up for Halloween disgusting.
As I was writing this afternoon, I discovered that this paragraph had appeared on my computer screen:
“And what about me, Nicodemus?” asked Jane. “This is the second time in this book series that I’ve been locked in a dungeon!”
I didn’t mean for Jane Boffin (née Faraday) to suddenly become so meta, but there it was. I’ll go back tomorrow, repair the broken fourth wall, and rework the scene, toning down Jane’s impertinence just a bit. (She is imprisoned in a dungeon after all.)
This book (the third I’ve written in the Airship Flamel Adventures series) has been listed on my NaNoWriMo page as having the working title of “There Be Dragons Here”. Although that phrase is encountered in the novel, the story has evolved away from the pirate-y connotation that phase implies. I’m still deciding on a final title. There will be dragons though.
An interesting take on popular history television shows. I wish we could get this program(me) here in the States (not absolutely sure we can–must check), but I’d probably alternate between gazing at the screen in rapture and yelling at it in frustration. Really, how hard is it to get facts straight?
A guest review by LH member Laurence Scales, of the new Channel 5 series.
Feeling a bit lost at present on Saturday nights without a Swedish murder to mull over I turned to Channel 5 and its series, ‘How the Victorians Built Britain’, fronted by Michael Buerk The viewer is invited to bask in the glow of beautifully restored steam engines, magnificent dams and tiled Turkish baths. Land of Hope and Glory is playing in my head even if you cannot hear it. Yes, Victorians were wonderful in many ways. We should all know, of course, that they were frightful in many others. Victorian novelist Thomas Hughes invented ‘rose tinted spectacles’ and we are definitely wearing them here.
It may be that a few more things have been restored to their original glory today, but I doubt that otherwise this series would stand much comparison with a repeat…