Alison Morton Author

Debbie Young – 'Linguam latinam disco'

I’m delighted to welcome Debbie Young back to my writing blog, especially on subjects dear to my heart – Latin and learning languages! Debbie writes funny, feel-good fiction set in the English Cotswolds, where she’s lived for nearly 30 years. Her latest novel, Murder Your Darlings, the sixth Sophie Sayers Village Mystery, has fun with another branch of the classics, when Sophie, armed with a copy of Homer’s Odyssey and a Greek phrase book, joins a writers’ retreat on a small Greek island off Ithaca. Murder Your Darlings is now available in paperback and as an ebook in all the popular ereading formats.

Until recently Debbie was the commissioning editor of the Alliance of Independent Authors’ prestigious blog and is a general independent fiction champion.

Over to Debbie…

No, linguam latinam disco isn’t a new dance craze – it’s evidence of my new hobby. “Disco” is Latin for “I learn”. Who knew? Not me, until this year, when I started learning more about this fascinating language that gave so much to my native tongue, English. If you’re wondering why I’m currently learning Latin at my age, blame Alison Morton! (Oops!)

In 2013, when Alison published INCEPTIO, the first in her Roma Nova series, and used a Latin word as its title, she planted a seed of regret in my mind that I’d never continued the Latin lessons I began at school. After taking evening classes in holiday Greek, (I spent a lot of time island-hopping in the Ionian,) I was enjoying recognising the Greek roots of English words. Surely Latin would offer similar rewards? Albeit it without the sun-kissed sailing trips.

I knew, like Greek, that Latin needn’t be difficult. In my teens, as a pupil at a girls’ grammar school in London, I’d expected Latin to be difficult, because we’d been streamed for our choice of a second language after the compulsory French. Although ostensibly invited to choose Latin, German or Spanish, it soon became clear that the more academic were directed into Latin, regardless of their preference. What I didn’t expect was that it would be fun and funky.

The first phrase we learnt was “Salve, Magistra!” to greet our teacher, Miss Dowding, as she entered the classroom. This sweet, gentle lady exuded an old-fashioned air, but her teaching resources proved bang up to date when she handed out funky-coloured illustrated pamphlets instead of conventional text books –tangerine for the first course (well, this was the 1970s), azure for the second, emerald green for the third.

Rowan Atkinson a shoo-in for the role of Caecilius if it ever goes to Hollywood?

The brand-new Cambridge Latin Course was hailed by academics as revolutionary. Never mind grammar, they plunged us straight into story, with a high ratio of illustration to text. The narrative, though simple, smacked of reality, detailing the daily life of one Lucus Caecilius Iucundus, an actual citizen of Pompeii. Maybe knowing that Caecilius was about to buried under Vesuvius’s deadly ash was meant to add to a sense of excitement and urgency to our studies. Quick, learn the language before the volcano blows!

However, Caecilius was still alive and kicking when we parted company prematurely. At the end of my second year of Latin, my family moved from London to Frankfurt, where I joined Frankfurt International School, whose language curriculum was restricted to English, French and German. (I took all three.)

Over sixty nationalities were represented on the school roll, with dozens of native languages between them, but sadly not a single Roma Novan, although I think Roma Nova’s diplomats’ children would have been right at home in this European banking capital. (Ita vero!)

The only exercise my Latin had at FIS was on a history field trip, where I stunned my teacher, a native New Yorker, by casually translating the inscription on an ancient Roman arch.

Only recently did I find a way to fit Latin studies into my busy life, when my teenage daughter introduced me to the free Duolingo online app. She’d been using it to maintain her GCSE French, and to learn Italian, German and Gaelic (her father’s Scottish) from scratch. Other options include Esperanto, Klingon and whatever it is they speak in The Game of Thrones.

The little green owl, Duo, makes learning languages feel like an online game. Duolingo is highly addictive, its league table bringing out my competitive streak. The lessons are short and simple, although the phrases taught are sometimes not the obvious ones you might need to get around ancient Rome.

Drunken parrots and dirty weasels feature frequently. For more bizarre examples of unlikely phrases in all its languages, follow the Twitter account @shitduosays, which makes me weep with laughter. (One of my favourites – Alison)

Fun as Duolingo is, I was still hankering after something more formal, so on a whim, I looked up my old school texts online, hoping a vintage books stockist might have one tucked away gathering dust. To my surprise, nearly fifty years since its launch, the Cambridge Latin Course is currently Amazon UK’s bestselling Latin book! It has become a classic. And that makes me feel about as ancient as a Roman.

Even more remarkably, when I posted about this discovery online, a friend alerted me to an episode of Doctor Who, set in Pompeii in its final days, featuring – you’ve guessed it – Caecilius and friends. Enjoy it on Netflix or sample the episode on YouTube

Now I’m finding opportunities to use my growing knowledge of Latin on an almost daily basis, whether understanding the origin of an English word for the first time, glad to know why phrases such as caveat emptor mean what they do, rather than just taking it on trust, or hearing Latin words and phrases on television programmes such as Upstart Crow, in which snobbish Robert Greene mocks Shakespeare for his lack of a classical education. (See Series 1, episode 6, from 1m43secs in for a prime example)

I’m also discovering more Latin books to help me expand my knowledge, such as a beautiful hardback copy of Cicero’s Orations, stumbled upon in the Bookbarn. The Latin text has a parallel English translation, with alternate lines in original Latin and English translation throughout. An idea for a future foreign language edition of Alison Morton’s Roma Nova novels, perhaps?

Bring it on, I say! Or rather, quaeso, scriptor!

(Forsan et haec olim facere juvabit Debora!)

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Connect with Debbie:
Website: www.authordebbieyoung.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorDebbieYoung
Twitter: www.twitter.com/DebbieYoungBN
Instagram: www.instagram.com/DebbieYoungAuthor

The ebook of the first Sophie Sayers adventure, Best Murder in Show, is currently free to download.

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Read Debbie’s latest book

When Sophie Sayers joins a writers’ retreat on a secluded Greek island, she’s hoping to find inspiration and perhaps a little adventure. Away from her rural English comfort zone, she also takes stock of her relationship with her boyfriend Hector.

But scarcely has the writing course begun when bestselling romantic novelist Marina Milanese disappears on a solo excursion to an old windmill. First on the scene, Sophie is prime suspect for Marina’s murder. When a storm prevents the Greek police from landing on the island to investigate, Sophie must try to solve the crime herself – not easy, when everyone at the retreat has a motive.

As she strives to uncover the truth about Marina’s fate, Sophie arrives at a life-changing decision about her own future.

Buy Murder Your Darlings:
Download the ebook for any ereader: https://books2read.com/u/mZKZDJ
Order ebook or paperback via Amazon: viewbook.at/MYD

Alison Morton is the author of Roma Nova thrillers – INCEPTIO, PERFIDITAS, SUCCESSIO, AURELIA, INSURRECTIO and RETALIO. CARINA, a novella, and ROMA NOVA EXTRA, a collection of short stories, are now available. Audiobooks are available for four of the series. NEXUS, an Aurelia Mitela novella, is now out.

Find out more about Roma Nova, its origins, stories and heroines… Download ‘Welcome to Roma Nova’, a FREE eBook, as a thank you gift when you sign up to Alison’s monthly email newsletter. You’ll also be first to know about Roma Nova news and book progress before everybody else, and take part in giveaways.

Is doing your highlights in time of crisis important?

We are scared. We feel unsafe. Our routine is shot. Our friends are distant. We can’t hug our children, parents or friends who live in other houses. No trips to the restaurant, pub or club. Not even a quick coffee with a friend before getting on a train to a meeting or show. And research trips and conferences are off. We won’t even be able to see our first grandchild (due early May) in the UK until it’s all over.

Gods, it’s dismal, isn’t it?

Which begs the question: why did I put a packet of hair colourant in my trolley when I ventured out for an authorised foray to buy food in the supermarket? The cashier gave me an odd look when I placed it on the conveyor belt at the checkout among the apples, courgettes, chocolate and loo roll. She didn’t say anything; she looked too tired to care much, poor soul.

Yes, we all want to present our best side to the world, but who is seeing us now part from during the odd Zoom or Skype session? And relatives and true friends won’t care if your roots are showing.

Some theories

The lipstick effect is the theory that when facing an economic crisis consumers will be more willing to buy less costly luxury goods. Instead of buying expensive designer clothing, for example, people will buy expensive lipstick. The underlying assumption is that consumers will buy some level of luxury goods even if there is a crisis, but goods that have less impact on their pockets. People may not afford a holiday in exclusive resorts, but they can still manage a night out at an affordable place.

Well, a packet of hair dye is definitely cheaper than a visit to the hairdresser, however pleasant the hairdressing experience is. But mine shut two weeks ago with the lockdown, so it was Hobson’s choice. I’m pretty sure he’s going to tut when he sees the results…

Data collected by Kline & Company, a market-research group, showed that lipstick sales sometimes increase during times of economic distress, but have also been known to grow during periods of prosperity. In other words, there is no clear correlation with that particular product.

In a 2012 study by four university researchers, the effect is attributed to evolutionary psychology: “This effect is driven by women’s desire to attract mates with resources and depends on the perceived mate attraction function served by these products. In addition to showing how and why economic recessions influence women’s desire for beauty products, this research provides novel insights into women’s mating psychology, consumer behavior, and the relationship between the two. … Although the lipstick effect has garnered some anecdotal lore, the present research suggests that women’s spending on beauty products may be the third indicator of economic recessions—an indicator that may be rooted in our ancestral psychology.”

Hm, so they think it’s a ‘lizard brain’ reaction to attract the best mates when the species is threatened with extinction.

In a 2017 Guardian article, Toby Clark at Mintel reported that in the last downturn home baking goods sold well, even though it can be more expensive to make a cake at home. “In many ways, home baking is a luxury purchase but you don’t just get cakes” Clark added. “You get an experience, the satisfaction of making something and family time. Even if you spend more than you would on a tray bake from the local supermarket you feel you get more bang for your buck.”

Post highlights at home

So it seems we are not only looking for reassurance that we can still access the little extras of our previous way of life and in a way ‘deny’ the harsher time we now live in, but also that some aspects of our normal life will continue, including our self-presentation and self-image.

The lizard brain is in full steam, instinctively pushing to prioritise our attractiveness to others so they will like us and protect us.

And even though we have to buy sugar, flour, fat, eggs, etc. perhaps baking cakes also reassures us in two ways: harking back to safer times when we created something earlier in our life in the kitchen with mother, and feeling the nostalgic wartime spirit of our parents.

Me and the hair dye?

Probably a combination of all of the above, a wish to cheer myself up plus a dollop of vanity.

Yes, it's a confinement post #RestezChezVous

I haven’t posted about Covid19 epidemic before – I leave the medical stuff to the experts. As an ordinary person, a ‘civilian’, I can see it’s an unknown killer that can sneak up on you for up to 14 days before it shows itself and against which we have no known cure. Effects vary from light flu-like symptoms to death. This makes it massively unpredictable and is ant the root of most anxiety.

We’re just finishing our second week of ‘confinement to barracks’ here in France which is an effort to create a medical firebreak in the spread of the disease. Here at Château Morton we’ve settled into a routine not much different from the usual one, but one coated with a hefty layer of wariness.

At the time of writing…

What we can’t do:

go out to a restaurant (which have all been closed since 15 March) or most shops
have your hair done (not the end of the world)
meet up with friends for coffee or dinner at their or our house
take long journeys
go to association meetings, the library or education courses
make non-essential visits to older relatives (we are the oldest in our family, so not a problem)
otherwise congregate

Yes, we have loo rolls in the supermarket!

What we can do

go to the local supermarket for food shopping – all marked up with one entrance and exit – red and white tape abounds
take a walk for up to an hour – no hardship in our rural part of France – with a dog if you have one (we don’t), but no further than a kilometre
go to medical appointments/collect prescriptions, etc.
work from home – no change there for this writer
dig up weeds, mow lawn, carry out those DIY projects that kept being ignored
read – I am blasting my Amazon Kindle account
interact via Skype and Zoom and, of course, by Facebook and Twitter

People can go to work within the legal restrictions, i.e. it must be essential and where you will be a minimum distance of a metre apart. If you’re called to go to court, you’re allowed to travel for that! And there’s that glorious French catch-all:

Participation à des missions d’intérêt général sur demande de l’autorité administrative.

Almost untranslatable across the cultural barrier, but generally meaning “Participating in activities for the general good at the request of the appropriate administrative authority.”

Armed with our permits for our daily walk

Paperchase

And being France, you have to carry a piece of paper and your identity card even if you go out for a walk in the back end of nowhere! You self-certify each time using an official Ministry of the Interior form. But woe betide you if the gendarmes or police check you and you haven’t bothered to complete one and bring it with you – you’re in for a 135 euro fine rising by large steps if you don’t pay it within a certain time.

So how do we feel about all this?

Yes, we are anxious; we’d be mad not to be. It’s also boring, but not a hardship. For others, it means being cooped up with possibly fractious children in a small house. For some – mercifully few – it’s downright dangerous if there is a history of domestic abuse.

Children have been sent home with schoolwork to complete and the Ministry of Education is streaming classes. Children all do the same lesson at the same time all over France, so they follow the same syllabus. Teachers are delivering tutorials online either from home or from schools acting as centres for keyworkers’ children. Public broadcasters are supporting this with complimentary material.

Economically, it’s hard for small traders and artisans. However, when it initiated the lockdown the government implemented a minimum wage based package for them plus they have undertaken to pay 80% of employees’ wages. All sorts of taxes, and social charges have been suspended – I can’t put it all in here! It’s going to be rough, but we will get through it.

Like everywhere else, there is a shortage of protective materials and gel, the health workers are working their socks off, retired medical and nursing staff have been recalled and the scientists are working flat out on remedies, tests and vaccinations.

Currently, we have just under 33,000 confirmed cases and nearly 2000 deaths in France. (Update: 44,500 and 3,024 on 30 March) And the peak is expected to be next week. Although very anxious about the virus, the public is backing President Macron’s measures.

My hands are dry and flaking and resemble something unearthed at midnight in a zombie movie; but they’ve never been so clean. I have a pair of stretch decorating gloves for when I go out to the supermarket – not very keen on touching the trolley or card payment keypad. Needless to say, the gloves get thoroughly cleaned when I come back.

If we have to do another two weeks, or three, then so be it.
UPDATE: the French Government has just announced an extension of confinement to 15 April.

Luckily, we have digital communications to help us in so many ways, but more than that, people here have stepped up to do shopping, run errands and support the health sector. The posties say they’ll stop delivering post if it means they can keep their service checking older residents running.

But then, with a few unscrupulous and unfeeling exceptions, humans do tend to care about each other.

Stay safe, stay at home. #RestezChezVous

Post-completion let down...

This week, I finished self-editing a 92,600 word draft of a new book. Much celebration/relief! It’s both an exhilarating and a sad feeling when you write that last scene. Of course, this is only the beginning of the process of producing a book. 😉

I drafted it last year, did a first read through, then put it aside (as you do) and then came back to it in early February. The first page has seen n revisions; sometimes you need to write the whole story before you really know the best way to start the book.

This manuscript goes to the editor later this month. Next, I need to write the specification for the cover designer, then think about how and when I’m going to launch it, who I think would like to read it…

But wait.

I find I’ve lost a little enthusiasm. How strange, you may think. Completing a full-length novel is exciting, and it’s an achievement just to finish it. But I can’t settle to getting on with anything. I’m currently living in dither central. I think there are two things at work here.

Withdrawal symptoms
I didn’t know I’d feel so bereft. Writing in a book world requires obsession, possibly addiction. You know the characters, what they like, how they act and interact with their world. You’ve thrown vile things at them, put obstacles and betrayals in their way and cheered them on to deal with them and struggle through only to find another barrier to their goal. (Yes, writers are horrible to their characters.)

I’ve sweated hours over her adventures, her troubles, her victories, her fears, her doubts, her joy. It’s like I’ve lost a dear friend, a small death. The ordinary, Real Life, world seems so, er, ordinary.

Desperate for energy
Yes, it’s that old chestnut, needing to recharge one’s batteries. I don’t mean with food, sleep or fresh air, all of which are very good ideas. It’s more a case of clearing out your brain and taking notice of your desk, your cat and your partner. Listening to podcasts, spending some time on social media that isn’t book related, catching up on streamed programmes, or dare I mention, actually reading a book. And seeing friends in the flesh. Hopefully, they are still there. Really good ones remember to bring cake!

And this isn’t the time to draw up a detailed market plan or run a thorough analysis on your advertising. This is time off. As writers, we are mistresses/masters of our own fate and can step off the 24/7 world for a short while.

So I’m taking a few days to do ‘normal stuff’ and then I will pick myself up, stop wimping and get on with writing the next book.

em>Find out more about Roma Nova, its origins, stories and heroines… Download ‘Welcome to Roma Nova’, a FREE eBook, as a thank you gift when you sign up to Alison’s monthly email newsletter. You’ll also be first to know about Roma Nova news and book progress before everybody else, and take part in giveaways.

Nothing quite like a French market

Goodies from the market

I’ve just got back from a morning at our local market. I say “local” but it’s reckoned to be the third largest/busiest in south west France. Both buyers and sellers travel hours to get here, even thugh it’s a small country town in the middle of France profonde.

The sun is out, the ramparts are looking martial and the place is packed. Even more so inside the vast market hall. You only make very slow progress along the aisles.

French markets are a bit of a cliché perhaps, but the meat, fresh and charcuterie, and vegetables are shining, the bread is crusty and mouthwatering and that’s not even mentioning the cheese, dried fruit, honey, olives and so on. You know who the best traiteurs are from the queues in front of the counters…

Outside you can buy every household item you’d ever want – handbags, mattresses, flowers, front gates, upholstered chairs – and clothes, glitzy fashion boots. Then you can munch on every sort of local takeaway specialities.

And of course, there’s the atmosphere – householders, farmers, artisan producers, meeting old friends, relatives and that cousin who only emerges once a year. News and gossips are exchanged, lunch set up, coffee and cake arranged… Ah, la belle France!