Snares & Nets, written under the pen name Catriona McCuaig, is Carol's latest novel, published by Robert Hale Ltd, November 2009, price £18.99. To order a copy, see www.halebooks.com
A Tudor mystery, Snares & Nets features her new series character, midwife Nesta Davies. The year is 1533, and Nesta is working in Oxford. Her son, Jack Davies, is a cordwainer in the fictional hamlet of Hollyhill, where his wife is slowly dying of consumption, known to us today as tuberculosis. Desperate for help, he sends for his mother to come to their aid. Shortly before Nesta's arrival the local midwife is foully murdered, and when the women of the hamlet call on Nesta to attend them in labour she finds herself drawn into a web of intrigue. She is puzzled and annoyed when several local men insist that their coming babies must be sons. Everyone knows that the king has abandoned his first wife because she is unable to give him a living heir, but what has this to do with ordinary men? Nesta decides that there is more to this than meets the eye. And who is the mysterious child who tries to lure poor Sue Robinson to her death? Some people believe that her husband is behind the attempt on her life, while others think that the girl tried to commit suicide. Then there is young Blanche Bellefleur. Refusing to go through with an arranged marriage, she leaves her bridegroom standing at the altar. When her cloak and shoes are found on the riverbank it is assumed that she has followed Sue's example, for if she is still alive, where is she now? When the constable fails to get to the bottom of these mysteries, it is Nesta who manages to uncover the truth of what is happening at Hollyhill.
A conversation with the author:
Q. Why did you select the name Nesta Davies for your leading character?
A. Actually this was the name of my high school English teacher! Some of the Tudor princesses in medieval Wales were called Nest or Nesta, and as Snares & Nets is set in Tudor England this seemed appropriate. Also my character is of Welsh descent, although this fact is not revealed in this first book.
Q. Why did you choose to make Nesta a midwife?
A. There had to be some means of giving her access to any home in this class-conscious society. In the sixteenth century the midwife, by reason of her job, was welcomed into any house, from the poorest to the most exalted. Had she been a maidservant or an ordinary housewife she would not have had the freedom to roam the countryside investigating crimes!
Q. The year 2009 is the 500th anniversary of Henry VIII's accession to the throne. Is this why you decided to write a book set in his lifetime?
A. No. I've always had an interest in the Tudors, and I've been planning this for some time. Other novels being published this year deal with the royal family and the well-known events at Court, but Snares & Nets chronicles the lives of ordinary people, with the Tudor dynasty providing the background.
The author at work.
Readers sometimes ask Carol where she works, and how many hours a day she puts in. Although she no longer spends 12 to 15 hours a day at the keyboard as she formerly did, she still spends six days a week at her craft. Some time ago she shared this information about her working environment.
When I'm working in my small upstairs office, I may be observed by any number of interested spectators. In addition to the dog in the sagging armchair and the cat perched on the printer, various Canadian birds and animals often peer in at me in the manner of visitors at a zoo.
The computer table stands beside a window, nine feet wide, with an amur maple growing outside. The colour of its leaves, changing with the seasons, provides a glorious backdrop to my work. As I write the tree is quivering under the weight of a family of chipmunks, busily stripping seeds from the red keys to add to their winter cache.
Such arrivals provide welcome distractions from the work on hand. When I hear a timber wolf howling on the edge of the lawn, or notice an osprey swooping down on the nearby pond, I grab the binoculars and rush to take a look.
The sightings can often be translated into magazine articles. Several hours spent watching courtship of a pair of turkey vultures, birds with a six -foot wingspan, atop the peaked roof of my garage, resulted in an article published in Bird Watcher's Digest. Few people have been privileged to witness such a sight, and I didn't have to leave my chair!
An account of the courtship of a pair of red foxes, seen through the window over a two-day period, later featured in The Country Connection.
For some years I've had a relationship with a family of raccoons. These intelligent little animals climb the shrub and, standing on their hind legs, gaze at me with their long black fingers pressed together in supplication. They happily accept a bread crust or apple core from my hand and eat quickly, before tapping on the window for more.
Birds, some of them rare visitors, come to the window on a regular basis. One summer a barn swallow built a nest under the eaves, oblivious to the writer nearby. Another writing day went by the board while she taught her brood to fly, instructing them in the art which would take them to South America just weeks later. The smallest swallow, too frightened to leave the nest, teetered on the edge for a log moment until his exasperated mother smacked him with her wing. She literally knocked him flying.
My work space also has a dormer window facing south past a tall spruce tree. A session at the computer was interrupted one autumn day by an almighty thump when a bear fell off the roof. After a dry summer there was little food for wildlife and bears became a nuisance as they foraged closer to houses. Bruin had scaled the spruce and gone out on a branch too slight to hold his weight. He skidded down the roof like an athlete on a bobsled run.
For a few moments the bear lay on the ground in a state of confusion before struggling up and limping away. My cats in their screened playroom below were found in an agitated state with the fur puffed up around their necks. Having a four-hundred-pound weight crashing down a few feet from your nose is never a happy way to be roused from sleep.
One winter evening I glanced away from the keyboard and glimpsed a small white animal with a black-tipped tail. But all my cats are either ginger or grey! As it squeezed under the bookcase I realized that it was an ermine. I could guess how it got in; Rusty, my Gordon setter, was an expert at unlocking any door or window in the house, using his strong teeth and agile paw. He never learned to shut a door after himself. The real mystery is where the ermine went. It has never been seen again.
Then there was the day when a terrible smell wafted in. A skunk, digging up turtle eggs, was startled out of its equilibrium by an approaching porcupine. I had to stop work. What editor would say yes to a foul-smelling manuscript?
My office is a delightful place in which to work. I produce articles and books, fiction and non-fiction, secure in the knowledge that writer's block will never be a problem, because inspiration is only a glance away.
Email: juniper2@nrtco.net