#MyrtleMondays: Myrtle in Germany, part 2

I’m very excited to share the news that Premeditated Myrtle’sGerman publisher, Von Dem Knesebeck, has also picked up How to Get Away with Myrtle! To celebrate, today I’m sharing some magnificent images of 19th century German travel. Enjoy!In How to Get Away with Myrtle, Myrtle and Miss Judson (and Peony, of course) take a holiday to a seaside resort. The seaside was just as popular in Germany:

Nordeseebader means “Northern seaside resort” and Sylt was (and is) a booming holiday town

Male swimmers enjoy the services of bathing carts (and their attendants) in 19th century Norderney

A sunny beach day at Wyk auf Föhr around 1890

Norderney’s Promenade included splendid luxury tennis courts (1895)

In a more curious vein…

19th Century Dresden milk bar. 1883 engraving of people drinking fresh milk in the central hall of a milk bar (Milchkuranstalt) in Dresden, Germany. | In a world where pasteurization had yet to take hold, the appeal of very fresh milk is understandable.

German chocolatiers Theodore Hildebrand & Son produced a series of lively lithographs predicting Family Amusements of the year 2000:

The caption reads “Water Walking in the year 2000”

Myrtle would be more interested in this advanced police technology: an X-ray camera!

And what German holiday would be complete without a stereograph of the making of sauerkraut?

The Library of Congress has many German stereographs in their magnificent collection.

I’ll share more details of Myrtle’s German tour as they become available!

Prost!

3 Responses to “#MyrtleMondays: Myrtle in Germany, part 2”


  1. Barbara A Mischke
    I just discovered you…how fun!

    My husband is from Germany so I will share these pictures with him.

    I wonder about the year 2000…is that a mistake?

    Barbara

    Reply


    • Elizabeth C. Bunce
      Thanks for stopping by! The chocolate cards were predicting what vacations would be like in the year 2000. (My water-walking shoes are 21 years late! LOL)

      Reply

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#MyrtleMondays: Black Police in Victorian England

Last week we talked about some of the first professional policewomen in England. This week, in honor of Black History Month, we’ll have a look at 19th century Black law enforcement officers. They’ve been protecting their fellow Britons since the very earliest days of English policing.Parish and census records from 19th century England don’t typically record race, so the contributions of many Black Britons have been overlooked (and often obscured) by history. Thanks to the diligent efforts of historians, many more of their stories are being unearthed and shared, giving us a more complete picture of life for ordinary English people in the Victorian era.

A modern painting of 1830s Carlisle constables, including John Kent (Cumbria Guides)

The modern British police force grew out of a tradition of night watches and other patrols organized on a local or parish level, alongside private services, such as the railway police we meet in How to Get Away with Myrtle. Police departments steadily grew more organized, centralized, and professional throughout the 18th and early 19th centuries. London’s Metropolitan Police was founded in 1829, and many more cities added official constabularies throughout the 1830s and ’40s. By 1851, England and Wales were patrolled by around 13,000 professional policemen—including people of color.

20th century badge (worn on the helmet) of the Cumbria police, including the city of Carlisle, featuring the royal cipher of Queen Elizabeth II. (Lakeland Arts Trust)

John Kent, Carlisle

The Carlisle City Police, established in the 1820s, employed one of England’s earliest Black constables. Born near Carlisle (northwestern England) around 1795, John Kent was the son of a formerly-enslaved man from the Caribbean who worked as a sailor. Kent began his law enforcement career as parish constable for the industrial town of Maryport, before joining the force in Carlisle in 1837, where he served as constable for seven years. His lengthy career in policework included further positions as a court bailiff, parish constable, and railway policeman. Read more about Kent’s career—characteristic of the early days of English policework—here. 

SUPERINTENDENT ROBERT BRANFORD, London

2017: Representatives of the Metropolitan Police and St. Lawrence Church hold a commemorative service at the grave of Superintendent Robert Branford (photo by David Lamming, Little Waldingfield History Society)

We know the story of Superintendent Branford of the Metropolitan Police thanks in part to the 1893 memoirs of a fellow officer: Scotland Yard Past & Present by retired Chief Inspector Timothy Cavanagh. He described working under Branford in the 1840s and ’50s:

“Not an educated man: but what to my idea was of much greater importance, he possessed a thorough knowledge of police matters in general. I should say [Branford] was about the only half-caste [mixed race] superintendent officer the Met ever had.”  –Chief Inspector Timothy Cavanagh, 1893

Branford was born in rural Suffolk around 1820. No photographs of him have been found, and little is known of his ancestry. But he served as a London police officer for almost 30 years, from 1838-1866, and would have experienced—and likely even helped drive—the evolution of modern policing. He retired as a Superintendent, a senior rank. Cavanagh’s statement raises the intriguing possibility that there were other officers of color among the Met’s early ranks whose stories are waiting to be uncovered.

PC James Gore, Salford (Greater Manchester)

The Salford Police service record of James Gore (date of this document is not given)

The dashing bobby whose portrait graces the cover graphic for this post is PC James Gore of Salford (a suburb of Manchester), the earliest known Black officer in the records of the Greater Manchester Police Museum. Born in either Leeds, UK, or Jamaica around 1880, before his career in the police, Gore served in the British Army’s Royal Garrison Artillery. Gore’s 30-year police career spanned the first decades of the 20th century, showing that Black constables continued to join police departments all throughout England. The GMPM has an intriguing interactive exhibit that takes viewers through the details shown on Gore’s service record (above).

The men featured above are undoubtedly not alone; in fact, records of the Old Bailey (London’s Central Criminal Court) include testimony of an unnamed “Negro Constable” in a theft trial as far back as 1746(The defendant was found guilty and sentenced to transportation.) It’s clear that Black Britons have been a part of England’s law enforcement foundations from its earliest days.

Why is so little known of these pioneering Black constables? In part, it’s because this achievement wasn’t necessarily seen as unusual. Because official records of the era typically don’t include race, the exact Black population of Victorian England is not known, and historian Stephen Bourne, co-founder of the Black & Asian Studies Association, suggests, “In some instances there would have been less overt racism in England at that time because there were so few black people, so they weren’t yet perceived as a threat, and someone like Robert [Branford] would have been able to become a Met officer.” (Interview about Branford in The Southwark News, 2016) (This is certainly not to suggest that there was no racism, and 19th century Britain has its own legacy as a slave-trading colonial power to contend with.)

Joining the Met in 1968, Jamaican-born Sislin Fay Allen is considered to be England’s first Black policewoman —but it would not be surprising for further research to uncover even earlier examples whose stories have not yet been told.

For more information on the achievements of Black Britons throughout history, check out the following resources:

Black Presence Exhibit at The National Archives

Black & Asian Studies Association

Black History Month UK

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#MyrtleMondays: True Detectives-Real-Life Female Sleuths of the Victorian Era

In How to Get Away with Myrtle, Myrtle is surprised and overjoyed to meet a professional female investigator, fellow railway passenger Mrs. Bloom. We’ve discussed the literary history of fictional female detectives here, but what about their real-life counterparts? Were there any?

Contrary to what you may have heard on recent television programs from otherwise eminently respectable sources (coughMasterpieceTheatercough), there in fact were professional female private detectives working in the Victorian era in England and the United States. Quite a lot of them, too!

Portrait of Kate Warne, the first female detective employed by the Alan Pinkerton National Detective Agency, 1866. Chicago History Museum

In England, private investigation became a booming enterprise in the middle of the 19th century, thanks in large part to 1857’s Matrimonial Causes Act. Prior to this, obtaining a divorce took an act of Parliament and was essentially impossible. Afterward, men could sue for divorce based on adultery, and women on adultery combined with abuse. Double-standard aside, this meant that unhappy spouses now only needed proof of their partners’ indiscretions—and there were all sorts of professionals lining up to provide it. It took both male and female operatives to observe their targets’ movements and get the goods. Female agents were lauded for their sensitivity and discretion, vital qualities in an era concerned with scandal and respectability.

Historians Clare Clarke, Nell Darby, and Lucy Worsley have individually uncovered some of the stories of these pioneering female sleuths. Among the most celebrated (or at least the most visible) of Victorian detective agencies, Henry Slater’s London agency boasted their female staff in 1890s advertisements:

Marketed to lawyers, issues of The Solicitor’s Journal featured adverts for Slater’s Lady Detectives, alongside ads for brief-bags, safes, and bookcases—suggesting that a private detective was a crucial accoutrement to a law practice of the day. (1897)

If the advertisements are to be believed, Slater’s (sadly unidentified) agents “have proved a wonderful success… in preventing wrongdoings in business and domestic matters,” and “can arrange for… any character in life, from a crossing-sweeper to a princess.” (One suspects that the princess bit might be an exaggeration; they keep pretty good track of their royal family in England.)

American Pinkerton agent Kate Warne has become well-known for her role in preventing an assassination attempt against newly-elected President Lincoln in 1861. By that time, Warne had been a Pinkerton for several years, investigating everything from embezzlement to espionage to murder. From the first female Pinkerton agent, Warne went on to work as Superintendent of Female Detectives, coordinating the efforts of those who followed in her footsteps.

In 1919, the Women’s Metropolitan Patrol began admitting women to the ranks of Scotland Yard’s forces, but it took a few more years for them to gain full independent policing powers

Official law enforcement agencies were slower to catch on to what female operatives had to offer.  According to Nell Darby, Scotland Yard (the London Metropolitan Police) employed an “anonymous female detective” in the 1870s to pose as a nurse with families suspected of crimes, but women would not be hired on as full officers until 1919. The Old Police Cells Museum in Brighton has a splendid look at what police work was like for these early female coppers.

The daughter of the St. Louis police chief, Phoebe Couzins was not only the first female U.S. Marshall, she was one of American’s first female attorneys. Myrtle would be impressed!

In America, the title of “first professional female law enforcement officer” is harder to pin down, with women from Chicago to California carrying badges in the late 1880s and ’90s. It’s telling that these opportunities opened up primarily in the Western U.S., where many people went to redefine themselves… and America.

Sanitary Inspectors circa 1900 (Wellcome Library)

Women worked as professional investigators in other capacities, as well. Cities employed health officers to investigate housing and environmental conditions that affected public health; insurance firms (some founded by women) needed to prevent fraudulent claims; hospitals checked up on discharged patients. Many of these roles were taken up by women.

Victorian women might not have worked side-by-side as constables with their brothers in blue—but there was nothing stopping them from setting up shop as private detectives, and making a thriving career as investigators.

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#MyrtleMondays: Myrtle & The Rue Morgue

Why yes, I have been wondering how I might work that title in to the series somehow—and last week, Mystery Writers of America gave me the perfect opening. I am beyond excited to share the thrilling news that Premeditated Myrtle has been nominated for an Edgar Award!

This is the highest honor an American mystery writer can receive, and past Edgar honorees have included Phyllis Whitney, Richard Peck, Willo Davis Roberts, Virginia Hamilton, Joan Lowry Nixon, Nancy Springer…. All those amazing authors whose mysteries I loved growing up (and still do!). The boxed set of Willo Davis Roberts mysteries my big brother and I shared was a prized possession in our house. (And I have it now, nyah-nyah-nyah...) You might also be familiar with some of the honorees for adult mystery fiction, like Ellery Queen, Patricia Highsmith, Mary Stewart, Ken Follett, Stephen King…. Yes, an august company, indeed! (An Auguste company, perhaps?)

Why “the Edgar,” you ask? It’s named, of course, for 19th century author Edgar Allan Poe. Poe is well-known now as the quintessential master of horror, having given us such indelibly haunting works as “The Raven,” “The Tell-Tale Heart,” “The Pit & the Pendulum,” and one of my favorites, “The Cask of Amontillado.”

Posthumous portrait of Edgar Allan Poe by Friedrich Bruckmann, 1876, which has a story as fascinating as everything associated with Poe

But Poe was also a pioneer of detective fiction, one of the earliest writers from America—or anywhere else—to establish the time-honored elements of the genre. Poe introduced such features as the amateur sleuth, the chronicling narrator, the focus on police procedure, and the uncanny observational skills of the detective. The oft-quoted claim that Poe was writing his detective tales before the word detective entered the English language is not quite true, but it wasn’t yet ubiquitous. Poe called them stories of “ratiocination” (which rolls off the tongue so euphoniously, it’s amazing we don’t still use it).

Many laudable candidates have been put forth as the “first” modern mystery (including Wilkie Collins’s The Moonstone from 1868, or Charles Dickens’s Bleak House from 1853, among others), but Poe was ratiocinating even earlier. “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” is clearly in the running for first American detective story.

By the time Byam Shaw illustrated his 1909 edition of “Rue Morgue,” the story was already a classic on both sides of the pond.

Published in 1841 in Graham’s Magazine, edited by Poe himself, the story still has the power to captivate and stump even the most attentive reader. Once you’ve read it, you will never forget the culprit of the gruesome titular crimes, and while you’re reading it, you’ll never guess whodunit. Poe’s crime-solver, intellectual dilettante C. Auguste Dupin, is much cleverer than you. But along the way, you’ll be treated to some of the earliest and most brilliant examples of the mystery tropes we have come to love and even expect, nearly 200 years later.

Here, for your reading pleasure, courtesy of The Poe Museum, is the reason there is not only an Edgar Allan Poe Award, but the literary field of American mysteries. Click the purple links below:

“The Murders in the Rue Morgue” by Edgar Allan Poe 

Or listen to it here at LibriVox.

Arthur Rackham’s madcap illustration from 1935 belies the horrors yet to be discovered in “The Rue Morgue”

Enjoy!

2 Responses to “#MyrtleMondays: Myrtle & The Rue Morgue”

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#MyrtleMondays: A Sneak Peek at Cold-Blooded Myrtle, coming October 6

This week, I got to experience one of the most exciting parts of publishing a new book: seeing the proofs (or typeset pages) of Myrtle Hardcastle Mysteries Book 3, Cold-Blooded Myrtle! If you are a Myrtle fan, you already know how beautiful the first two books are. Designer Carla Weise continues to do an amazing job on this series, helped along with some lovely interior artwork by Brett Helquist.

I can’t show you everything, but I am dying to share a little glimpse at what Book 3 is bringing. Enjoy this sneak peek at the Cold-Blooded Myrtle layout and design, and don’t forget to pre-order your copy here. (If you do forget, don’t worry: I’ll remind you again.)

The pithy H. M. Hardcastle returns with all-new epigraphs

The spot motifs (small illustrations) accompanying each chapter are drawn directly from the text, and ever since the fleur-de-lis key of Premeditated Myrtle, we’ve kept an eye out for what little object in the story might be the perfect pick. You’ll have to wait and find out what that little sprig signifies…

Peony fans will be anxious to see her latest portrait, as well. (It might be my favorite so far!)

Whose little white paws might those be?!

I do a lot of image research for the Myrtle Hardcastle Mysteries. Here’s some of my inspiration for Cold-Blooded!

I’ll be sharing more details as they become available. Stay tuned!

…And in crazy quilt news, I have finished the embroidery on the two blocks I made in January. Leo would like to show them off to you.


Myrtle, Peony, their crazy quilt, and their first cold case will be hitting bookstore and library shelves everywhere on October 6!

One Response to “#MyrtleMondays: A Sneak Peek at Cold-Blooded Myrtle, coming October 6”


  1. Deborah Ford-Salyer
    Can’t wait to see it! Thanks for the peek. Love the quilt and behind the scenes research.

    Reply

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#MyrtleMondays: The Girl Detective, part I

If you read this blog, chances are you’re a fan of the girl detective. Whether you just discovered Myrtle Hardcastle or grew up with Nancy Drew, you are enjoying a breed of sleuth that has been entertaining readers and outwitting criminals since the earliest days of detective fiction.

Like many things we’ve discussed on #MyrtleMondays, it should be no surprise to learn that girl detectives are an invention of the Victorian era.  The first young detective—at least in name—was 1866’s Ernest Keen, Boy Detective, who starred in dozens of penny dreadful adventures, although his actual crime-solving was minimal. As detective fiction gained in popularity, female detectives—usually professionals—soon joined the game, with their younger counterparts to follow.

William Stephens Hayward’s Mrs. Paschal was one of English literature’s first modern detectives–of any gender. Check out that scandalous peek of petticoat (not to mention the cigarette)! 1864

As historian Lucy Worsley explains in The Art of the English Murder, these female detectives allowed girls to explore identities that may have been out of reach in a real life that expected girls and women to stay at home while their brothers were gallivanting about in the world.  They also present the perfect subterfuge. Easily dismissed or overlooked, girl detectives can take their criminal foes (and police colleagues) by surprise, uncovering clues the men have missed, and making the comeuppance all the more satisfying for the reader.

I like to think this 1875 French fashion plate shows two detectives training their young apprentice.

I have several of these early sleuths to share with you in the coming weeks! You’ll see that they’re very much the products of their era, yet still offered their readers an escape into a world of high adventure.

Today I’ll introduce you to one of the earliest girl detectives, New York Nell.

New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective by Edward Lytton Wheeler hit the pages of American dime novels in 1880. Irrepressible teen Nell Niblo cheerfully disguises herself as a boy and unravels a scheme to defraud the heir to a fortune. In true penny-dreadful/dime novel fashion, Nell races up and down the east coast, from Philadelphia to New York, brandishing pistols and even re-disguising herself as a proper young lady of quality when necessary. Nell’s versatility allows her to move between the rugged street and refined drawing room—while also rather overtly commenting on the “unfeminine” nature of girls involved in the gritty world of crime.

You can read New-York Nell: The Boy-Girl Detective here at the Dime Novel Library at the Northern University of Illinois.

Enjoy!

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#MyrtleMondays: Read All About It-The Victorian News Cycle

Are you a 24-hour news junkie? Even if you’re not, you’ve likely been glued to CNN, NPR, Facebook, or TikTok this week, watching historic events at the US Capitol and their aftermath unfold. The passion for the latest updates on current events is one that stretches back to the earliest days of the 19th century. The Victorians had the very same hunger for news, and just like today, there was no shortage of sources to satisfy them.

Young newspaper vendors in New York pose for a photographer

“The newsagent’s was well stocked, and I spent a few moments fortifying myself for the next fourteen hours. I selected the Times, The Strand, and Illustrated London News…. Mindful of Miss Judson’s eyes on me, I dutifully added a copy of the Girl’s Own Paper, in which to conceal the others.” —How to Get Away with Myrtle

In the Myrtle Hardcastle Mysteries, my heroine Myrtle is an enthusiastic consumer of the news. Like Myrtle, I grew up surrounded by journalism: my father was a journalism professor at Iowa State University, and weekly family TV viewing was bookended by “60 Minutes” on Sunday evenings, and “20/20” on Friday nights.

We often hear that the twenty-four/seven news cycle is a product of the cable news boom of the late 20th century, but in fact it’s always been with us. By the 1820s, there were more than 50 daily and weekly newspapers in London (compared to 13 in 2020), and circulation only increased during the century, as printing costs and taxes went down, incomes rose, and the British population became more urban. Some of our most familiar and respected modern newspapers had their origins in the Victorian era—or earlier—including the Times of London, which has been supplying Londoners with their daily news since the 1700s.

A characteristically dense issue of the Times from 6 July 1863. Is the Battle of Gettysburg in America covered somewhere in all that text?

During particularly busy news days, readers did not have to wait until the morning edition for the latest updates. Newspapers put out “extras,” or special editions to keep their readers apprised of up-to-the-minute developments on things like sensational crimes and hotly-contested elections.

This November 7, 1860 analogue of the cable news “Big Board” gave anxious readers the latest updates on the US presidential election. (Spoiler alert: Lincoln won.) See more of this historic election coverage at Smithsonian Magazine

Newspapers took immediate advantage of advances in telegraphy and photography, sharing the latest scoops from news agencies overseas and supplementing their artists’ renderings with easily reproduced “halftone” photographs.

On October 6, 1869, the Canadian Illustrated News featured the world’s first newspaper photograph, of HRH Prince Arthur, who would later become Governor General of Canada. The prince was on a military tour of Canada at the time.

Then as now, celebrity news and sensational crimes featured high among the interests of readers. And the most popular celebrities of the day? The royal family, of course.

Queen Victoria’s first train trip was front-page news in the early days of the railway industry.

The prolific coverage of crime and scandal is nothing new, either. The Victorian era had its own version of “Vengeance: Killer Lovers” and “How it Really Happened:” the broadsheet. The most talked-about crimes of the day were written up, set to music, and sold on street corners from Sussex to Scotland.

One of the early 19th century’s most sensational crimes, the 1828 murder of Maria Marten by lover Robert Corder made news all over Great Britain. This broadsheet was a standalone publication, sold at Corder’s public execution, detailing the crime and purporting to include his “gallows confession.” Naturally, since these so-called confessions were said to occur moments before the execution and the broadsheets had to be printed up in advance to supply the eager audience, their veracity is dubious at best, and more likely downright fictional.

The public’s morbid fascination with the most minute details of crime and scandal struck many social observers—especially among the middle class—to be far from a respectable interest. But these naysayers had no effect on the popularity of sensational news stories, which only grew during the century, culminating in the media explosion surrounding the gruesome 1888 murders of several women in London’s Whitechapel neighborhood. For weeks that autumn, British and international readers were glued to the coverage.

The Illustrated Police News of October 13, 1888 remains one of the most recognized images of Jack the Ripper’s crimes. This weekly newspaper was one of 19th century England’s most successful tabloids, known for its lurid coverage, sensational (and sometimes improbable) stories, and vivid illustrations.

And while the free press has long been one of our most cherished institutions, that hasn’t always—or even usually—meant the impartial press. From their earliest days, newspapers (and their offspring, radio and TV news) have been established to represent the interests and publish the views of particular social and political groups. It’s important to recognize the viewpoint of a given news source, in order to judge potential bias in the reporting. The University of Michigan Library offers guidance for readers and researchers about how to determine ways in which a news outlet may be biased toward a particular interest group.

The Manchester Guardian was founded in 1821 in the wake of labor protests, aimed at an audience of business owners and manufacturers.

The next time you find yourself tuning in to see if there are new updates on the latest global crisis (even when you know there won’t be), remember that you’re taking part in a centuries-old human pastime: the ravenous consumption of news.

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#MyrtleMondays: A Victorian Quilting Adventure

Myrtle Hardcastle Mysteries #3, Cold-Blooded Myrtle, is coming your way October 5.  In that book, we learn more about Myrtle’s mum, including the fact that she (like your Learned Author) was a needlewoman. A crazy quilt she made when Myrtle was little becomes a key piece of evidence in cracking an old mystery:

I nudged Peony out of the way to free the coverlet. It was a crazy-patch quilt Mum had pieced from scraps of our old clothes. Here was a bit of striped silk from her wedding dress, there a snippet of Father’s robes from law school. I could find what I was looking for in the dark, but I pulled it closer to the window and the streetlight outside. In a lopsided trapezoid of dark velvet was an embroidered dove, and Mum’s initials: JBH. 

Cold-Blooded Myrtle

Crazy quilting had its heyday in the last quarter of the 19th century, thanks in part to the 1876 Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia. Newly trading with the West, Japan sent art and artifacts to display at the Exposition, including pottery with traditional crackled (crazed) glazes.

Inside the Japanese Pavilion at the Centennial Exposition

Crazy quilting did not begin with the Expo, but the crazed glazes and beautiful textiles on display reignited the Victorian passion for imaginative shapes and exquisite ornamentation. Soon needlewomen in England, America and elsewhere were taking inspiration for their own work, reimagining the aesthetic and adding their own sensibilities to this celebration of asymmetrical design and embellishment. It became a truly Victorian artform that combined all the global influences of the day, and reflected the skills, artistry, and daily lives of the women who made them. Unlike traditional patchwork bed quilts, a utilitarian artform, these quilts were intended for display only—one might even remark, rather like the women themselves: accomplished and elegant, adorning the home with their grace and beauty. (Read more about middle class women and girls and their pursuits here.)

Crazy quilt on display at the Legler Barn Museum near Kansas City (I think that W in the center is actually an M)

Crazy quilts have been brewing in the back of my mind for some time.  When we were in college, Husband CJ (then Boyfriend CJ) worked as an intern at the Iowa State University Museums, including the Farmhouse Museum, ISU’s oldest building. The Farmhouse has several Victorian crazy quilts in its collection, including this exquisite 1882 piece by midwestern needlewoman Lydia Carver Stark:

Gift of Margaret Johnson. In the Farm House Museum Collection, Farm House Museum, University Museums, Iowa State University, Ames, Iowa.

More information about Stark’s quilt can be found here, along with a splendid essay by history professor Dr. Amy Bix on the history of crazy quilting.

CJ has been a fan of crazy quilts since his Farmhouse days and has been hinting at such a project for a very long time. But it does take a lifetime of sewing to build up enough scraps to produce one!

We saw this beautifully-preserved 1890 crazy quilt at the Kansas City Quilt Festival in 2019.

Well, those years, and the fabrics, have added up, and CJ and I are looking forward to celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary this fall. What better way to observe this milestone than to commemorate the last two-and-a-half decades of sewing (and life) with one epic work of textile art?

Like Myrtle, I know each of these scraps by heart. There’s my very first cloak fabric, a scrap from my Mary Poppins costume, dresses I made for my nieces, the doublet I made for my late FIL…

It’s taken me some time to find my groove with this project, experimenting with various piecing methods, threads, stitches, and equipment. (One thing to be said for being a lifelong needlewoman: I already have all the stuff!) But I’ve found my rhythm now, and having a splendid time sewing and embellishing. My blocks are a combination of traditional foundation piecing (the scraps are sewn to a flannel background) and “improv piecing” (not a Victorian term! LOL), scraps sewn together to create the random shapes. The foundation fabric helps stabilize the various weights of the fabrics and supports the embroidery.

Was there ever a year more fitting for a crazy quilt than 2020?

Many favorite Victorian symbols found their way into the embroidery, such as spiderwebs, gloves, and fans, along with more personal motifs and signatures. The International Quilt Museum has more information on the global influences on crazy quilting. It’s fascinating stuff!

My third block, pieced and stitched on New Year’s Day, 2021, features an anchor–a nod to the Farmhouse quilt that started it all. (On a technical note, after trying several other options, I’ve found this inexpensive plastic embroidery hoop to be ideal for holding this project just tight enough to stitch on without crushing the fabrics or embroidery. The 8″ working area is easy to handle and plenty roomy for covering the seams.)

I’m really having fun seeing this piece evolve. I’ll be sure to keep you updated here periodically, and follow me on Instagram for more regular updates.

Stitch on! You’ll see more of Myrtle’s mum’s crazy quilt in Cold-Blooded Myrtle, October 5!

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#MyrtleMondays: Ringing in the New

It’s still early days, but already 2021 is shaping up to be just as action-packed for Myrtle and her Learned Author as 2020 was. (With possibly less existential drama? Fingers crossed!) I am packing my calendar with Events, Engagements, and Dates of Note, and have a few highlights to preview for you.

First (well, not chronologically first) and most important, Myrtle Hardcastle Mysteries Book 3, Cold-Blooded Myrtle, will be here before you know it—October 5! It seems like a long time now, but after the Dog Days of Summer, you’ll be ready for a Victorian Christmas mystery.

Remember this teaser from a couple of months ago?

I don’t have the details yet, but I can’t wait for our giant Book 3 Cover Reveal! There is a HUGE HUGE SURPRISE that I am dying to share with everyone. Stay tuned for that…

I already have several events confirmed for 2021:

January 27: Virtual School Visit with Boswell Book Company, Milwaukee, WI

January 30: Virtual Historical Fiction Panel with Jeannie Mobley, J. Anderson Coats, Tracey Lee, and Elizabeth C. Bunce, Rocky Mountain SCBWI

May 15: Virtual appearance with the Gaithersburg (MD) Book Festival

Be sure to check my Events Page for updates on my schedule, and for information on how to book an appearance with me.

And, of course, I’ll keep bringing you fascinating glimpses into Myrtle’s world with my weekly #MyrtleMondays posts. I have so many topics I can’t wait to talk about—including several Making posts to share. Remember you can also follow our escapades on Facebook and Instagram.

What’s happening in your neck of the woods next year? Drop me a line and let me know what you’re looking forward to!

Happy New Year, all!

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#MyrtleMondays: A Sherlockian Christmas

Mystery fans, I have a Christmas treat for you today! In January, 1892, The Strand magazine published Arthur Conan Doyle’s one and only Sherlock Holmes story set at Christmastime.

“The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle” is one of my own favorite Sherlock stories, featuring a twisty tale of jewel thieves, ill-fated Christmas dinners, and some of the best banter between Holmes and Watson in the Sherlockian canon. (There is some animal violence, as a goose meets a sad fate in the tale, so reader discretion is advised.)

Sidney Paget’s illustration sets the stage for the curious puzzle facing Holmes this Christmastide…

I have several ways for you to enjoy this tale, depending on your mood.

First, read the original story here, at the official Arthur Conan Doyle website (scroll down PAST the plot summary to where it says “text”).

Or you can listen to a delightful audio recording from LibriVox here.

Or if you have the BritBox streaming service, I highly recommend watching the 1984 BBC/Granada production starring Jeremy Brett.

So pour yourself a mug of eggnog, serve up a slice of plum pudding, and settle in to learn what happened when Christmas was coming and one particular goose was getting fat…

Happy Holidays!

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