Bits and pieces of historical fiction news

Here are some articles and other news items that caught my attention in the last week.

The 2025 Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction shortlist is out.  The winner of this £25,000 Prize will be announced on June 12th at Abbotsford, the country house which was Scott's home in the Scottish Borders.

The Heart in Winter, Kevin Barry (Canongate/Doubleday US) - 1890s Montana

The Mare, Angharad Hampshire (Northodox Press) - 1950s New York

The Book of Days, Francesca Kay (Swift Press) - Tudor England 

Glorious Exploits, Ferdia Lennon (Fig Tree/St. Martin's) - ancient Greece

The Land in Winter, Andrew Miller (Sceptre) - 1962/63 England

The Safekeep, Yael van der Wouden (Viking UK/Avid Reader) - postwar Holland

No Americans on the list this time, but half of the shortlist were published in the US, and two of the novels, The Heart in Winter and The Mare, are set here. You can read the judges' comments, with short plot synopses, at the link above.

On Jane Friedman's blog, author Laura Stanfill has a guest post explaining how she raised the stakes in her historical novel by following an editor's advice and moving a secondary character into the protagonist's chair.  Read more at "Trust Your Instincts: Why Writing for Yourself Leads to Better Books."

In Welcome to Censorship, author Vanessa Riley speaks about how she was using the design tool Canva to develop slides for promoting her upcoming historical novel when the software flagged the word "enslaved," which describes her protagonist, as unsupported usage because it appeared to be "a political topic." Very disturbing.

From Sarah McCraw Crow's Substack, An Unfinished Story, the latest in her Midlife Author series is an interview with historical novelist Jane Healey about becoming debut author in her 40s, what it takes to pursue a writing career long-term, and the challenges she's faced.

Alina Adams, whose historical novel Go On Pretending is out on May 1st, writes about the ways she had success obtaining preorders, and where these attempts didn't work.

In the industry, people are getting mixed messages about the category "women's fiction."  Editors aren't using the term, preferring "relationship fiction" or "book club fiction" instead.  Agents are moving away from it too.  But many writers and writers' associations embrace its usage, and the BISAC category of Fiction/Women still remains. You'll find the BISAC codes for books used by retailers like Amazon, digital catalogs like Edelweiss, and more. Read much more at Heather Garbo's Substack, Write Your Next Chapter.  Her post, which examines relevant book deal announcements from Publishers Marketplace, also looks at the overlap between historical and women's fiction, and how books that fall into both categories may be labeled as one but not the other, making it hard to locate all new releases comprehensively. I'm always interested in avenues for discoverability for historical fiction, so I appreciated this post.

Isabel Allende's My Name Is Emilia del Valle adds a new angle to her ongoing family saga

Allende has created many addictive sagas about the extended del Valle family and their intersections with history and one another. The eponymous Emilia, Allende’s addition to this notable clan, is one adventurous, gutsy woman.

The illegitimate daughter of a Chilean aristocrat and the Irish novice nun he seduced, Emilia grows up in San Francisco with her loving stepfather’s support, intrepidly working around gender restrictions. After penning dime novels pseudonymously, she becomes a human-interest columnist for the Daily Examiner and wangles an assignment as international correspondent for the impending Chilean Civil War of 1891, under her own byline.

Emilia’s first meeting with her long-lost father in Santiago is quite moving, and her time with the canteen girls who accompany President Balmaceda’s army echoes with their unsung courage. Allende expertly navigates through the violent chaos of battle and how it affects Emilia, whose romantic relationships also showcase her character growth.

Fans of Allende’s now-classic Daughter of Fortune (1999) and Portrait in Sepia (2000) will particularly welcome this offering, which is replete with Allende’s customary poetic storytelling.

My Name Is Emilia del Valle will be published by Ballantine in May; the translator is Frances Riddle.  I contributed this review for Booklist's March issue.

I recommended this especially for readers of Allende's earlier novels because it's a new entry in the Del Valle saga, but mostly since significant characters from Daughter of Fortune and its sequel appear here too, which was a nice surprise.  No spoilers here, but I'll be curious to see what other readers think about how this novel ends.

Are you missing the Tudor era? Check out these ten recent and upcoming novels

Are you a historical fiction fan looking back fondly on the years of Tudormania, when novels set in 16th-century England (especially about the royals) were eagerly scooped up by publishers?  The good news is these books are still around, in smaller quantities perhaps, but novelists are still writing them, and readers still want them. During these fraught political times, when it's necessary to escape the news headlines periodically for one's own sanity, I've been finding myself gravitating toward earlier historical settings more often, including the Tudor era. Here are ten recent books set then, and I'll be posting reviews of many in the coming months. 

A story of politics, philosophy, and gender-bending intrigue featuring Alexander "Sander" Cooke, a young man famed for playing female roles in Shakespeare's plays in Elizabethan London, and his best friend Joan, restricted from intellectual circles because she's a woman. William Morrow, Feb. 2025.

Jane (Parker) Boleyn, who has featured previously in the author's The Boleyn Inheritance and others, gets the full-length treatment in Gregory's next novel. Her return to the Tudor era explores Jane's motivations for her notorious actions. This is the US cover, perhaps designed to attract dark romantasy fans?  HarperCollins, Oct. 2025.

This is the first historical novel I'm aware of about Mark Smeaton, the court musician accused of committing adultery with Queen Anne Boleyn (a treasonous act) and executed along with others caught up in the plot against Anne. His personal story is little known.  SparkPress, May 2025.

A modern woman visiting an old Tudor mansion in Norfolk comes upon the story of Anne Dacre, later Countess of Arundel. She loses her beloved younger brother, perhaps at her stepfather's hands, and fights to take revenge.  Boldwood, March 2025.

A trio of enterprising women band together to write poetry and plays secretly, and ask a certain rakish actor to pose as the author when their scheming attracts unwanted attention.  This sounds like a fun spin on the "Shakespeare authorship" theme oft-expressed in historical fiction. Alcove Press, July 2025. 

In this debut novel, Robert Smythson, the English architect famed for his design of Hardwick Hall, Wollaton Hall, and other Elizabethan manor houses, looks into a suspicious death discovered during the rebuilding of Longleat in Wiltshire. Glowing Log Books, Sept. 2024.

Another lesser-known Tudor personage claims the spotlight here: Anne, daughter of Henry VIII's good friend Charles Brandon, whose story of marital turmoil and clandestine romance is intertwined with that of a modern heiress and a remote country house in both women's lives.  Boldwood, Jan. 2025.

Knowing Alison Weir's familiarity with Tudor-era notables, "the Cardinal" here could be none other than Thomas Wolsey, Henry VIII's right-hand man (until he notably fell from grace). She explores his surprising career and personal life, including his affections for his longtime mistress.  Ballantine, May 2025.

Lady Margaret Clifford is a Tudor heir you may not have heard of; she was a granddaughter of Henry VIII's younger sister, Mary.  The novel details the political, religious, and romantic intrigue surrounding Margaret as the English throne passes to Lady Jane Grey and then Mary I.  This is first in a three-book series about women from the period. Sapere, Dec. 2024.

From the cover design and title, you might surmise that Wertman's latest Tudor novel retells the younger years of the future Elizabeth I in a narrative of hard-won wisdom and survival.  I enjoyed her novel The Boy King, about Elizabeth's half-brother, Edward VI.  Independently published, May 2025.

Haunting deceptions: Beth Ford's In the Time of Spirits

In the Time of Spirits is a novel of the late 19th-century spiritualist movement, seen from the perspective of those who performed seances for gullible audiences. Its plot takes unpredictable, often confounding turns, much like its strong-minded heroine. Are her actions irritating or all too fitting? They certainly offer much to think about!

After losing her parents in a house fire in Washington, DC, 22-year-old Adalinda (Addy) Cohart inherits a tidy sum. Although she’s grateful for the support of her longtime suitor, Arthur Simmons, Addy doesn’t want to wed anyone. She adores Marie Corelli’s mystical novels and sees mediums as important role models for independent, adventurous women.

Her interests lead her to New York City, alongside a female travel companion, and into the company of William Fairley, the handsome and charismatic assistant to the renowned Mrs. Alexi, whose spiritual talents seem fully plausible to the innocent Addy. Before long, Addy marries William, despite her previous aversion to wedlock, then accompanies him to London following an invite from a spiritualist organization. After being introduced to the secret tricks of his trade, Addy faces a life-changing choice.

The author’s smooth prose, unencumbered by elaborate descriptions, ensures a fast-paced read as Addy figures out what she wants and what she can tolerate. The text is so sparing of details, though, that the settings feel generic. Aside from notable landmarks, Manhattan, London, and Paris of the 1890s appear much the same. The theatrical performances Addy attends and the museum she visits remain nameless. The exceptions are the seances themselves. Rather selfish and a poor friend to others, Addy is often an unlikeable protagonist. However, by the dramatic turns of the finale, one might argue she is a memorable one.

This novel was published by Peony Books (the author's imprint) in 2024, and I wrote the review originally for the Historical Novels Review. The subject matter intrigued me, and so did the characters, even as their actions kept me guessing about where the plot was leading.  I learn new things about authors' approaches to historical fiction with every book I read, and so it was with this book. Readers new to the genre might not mind or notice the absence of place-specific details, though this aspect stood out for me. I'd still read more by the same author, who has written other historicals as well.

N. J. Mastro explores the tumultuous life of Mary Wollstonecraft in Solitary Walker

Mary Wollstonecraft is perhaps best known for two accomplishments: A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792), a treatise that caused her to be remembered as the first feminist; and her status as the mother of Mary Shelley, author of Frankenstein.

As significant as these are, Wollstonecraft’s life was extraordinary for many other reasons. N.J. Mastro’s biographical novel explores them in depth, lavishing equal time on her innermost feelings and outward actions, as well as the tumult stirred up when they conflicted.

Wollstonecraft didn’t just talk the talk: she walked the walk, serving as an example of her belief that if women were given more than the limited education that society deemed appropriate, their intellectual and social development would flourish. Following an effective short prologue in which she tries and fails to protect her mother from her drunk father’s abuse, we meet Mary at twenty-eight, just as she’s being let go from her position as governess to an aristocratic Irish family’s daughters. The girls adore her, but her teachings are too broad and academic for their mother’s liking.

This setback spurs Mary to “make her own way in the world as a solitary woman,” heading to London to “live by her pen” in England’s literary capital. To earn a living, she accepts an invitation to review books for a progressive new journal – at a time when reviewing was competitive, well-paid, and mostly done by men!

Mary’s passions spring to life: her absorption into the lively community at the home of her publisher Joseph Johnson, where she holds her own at dinner conversations when she’s the only woman present; her determination to share her ideas through writing, despite Mr. Johnson’s gentle advice that she must publish anonymously; her growing irritation about the impositions of her family, always requesting money she’s hard-pressed to supply; and her curiosity about the dark eroticism of the oil painting The Nightmare, as well as its artist. She enjoys male friendships, but with many examples of marriage’s negative effect on women weighing on her mind, Mary guards herself when it comes to romantic and sexual relationships. The depth of her emotions, once they surface, catches her unaware.

The novel proceeds chronologically, focusing on key periods of Mary’s life and how her character transformed. Some of her exploits would be considered significant in any day and age, such as moving abroad to observe a new republic’s violent birth firsthand and directing her own solo trip through parts of remote Scandinavia. Mary’s time in France is especially dangerous given her nationality. Augmenting the stress and unease are the fraught personal circumstances in which Mary finds herself.

Mastro’s writing is skillful and precise, creating descriptions of settings and characters that linger. She has an eye for atmospheric details: “Everyone’s clothes felt damp; even the pages of their books had gone limp,” she writes of a hot, rainy summer day in Bristol. Nearly all the characters are historically documented; if you’re familiar with the period, you may figure out which one(s) are fictional. All is explained in an author’s note. This is a well-researched, admirable fictional portrait that will leave you amazed at the daring and vigorous way Mary moved through her world.

Solitary Walker was published by Black Rose Writing in February (reviewed from an ARC copy).

The Long and Winding Road, an essay by Lorraine Norwood, author of The Solitary Sparrow

Continuing with the Small Press Month focus, I'm pleased to welcome Lorraine Norwood to Reading the Past with an essay about her long journey to publishing her debut novel. What do you do when you've chosen a compelling subject and have developed your fiction writing craft but find it impossible to break into the trend-focused market of traditional publication?  Please read on, and please check out Lorraine's website for more information on her medieval historical fiction series, The Margaret Chronicles.

~

The Long and Winding Road

Lorraine Norwood

I published my debut book in 2024 after years of writing. I submitted hundreds of queries, attended conferences, was accepted by an agent, submitted to the Big 5, got turned down, submitted to smaller houses, got accepted by a small publisher but said "no" because the contract was lousy, suffered the death of my biggest fan— my mother, got Covid and cancer, was released by my agent, pivoted to a reputable hybrid publisher—and then got accepted. Hurray! It only took me 38 years.

It was a long and winding road. Hard, with very deep potholes.

Why, you might ask, did you not shove the book in a drawer and forget writing? Well, I’ve had lots of jobs in my life in order to pay the electric bill but the job I do best is writing. And it’s the one that gives me the most joy. I didn’t give up because I couldn’t NOT do it. Even though it didn’t pay the electric bill.

Since the first day my main character jumped into my head, I’ve seen a huge shift in the gatekeepers, a shift that has made it difficult for newbies to break into the traditional world of publishing.

Fourteen years ago I attended the HNS conference (my first) in San Diego and heard a group of editors and agents describe the chaotic changes in the traditional publishing world as the “new Wild Wild West.” I couldn’t be bothered with what the cowboys in New York City were doing. I had a book to get out. I had been working on it for years. All I had to do was get an agent at the conference, submit to the big boys, and voila! it was going to be a hit. Historical fiction readers were going to love it. I would be wined and dined, accompanied on book tours by my marketing agent, and get carpal tunnel syndrome from signing so many books.

Well, why NOT me? I did the work. Sat my butt in the chair. Worked on the craft. Got an agent. I rewrote sections of my manuscript for my agent, changed plotlines for prospective editors, and deleted scenes for editors who wanted the book sanitized. The negative responses went like this:

•  The writing is top-notch, but nobody reads historical fiction anymore.
•  It’s great writing, but it’s not saleable.
•  Loved your characters, but we’re concerned about getting a return on our investment.

I did all the things you’re supposed to do and still NADA. After five years of trying, my agent, bless her heart, apologized and let me go.

That was the lowest, deepest pothole.

Jump to 2023. Traditional publishing was still not home on the range. If anything it was wilder than anybody predicted. Where were the chummy editor/writer consultations? Where were the book tours? Where were the marketing teams? Where were the new authors? Why were the big boys putting out the same people over and over again? And how, in all this chaos, with 2.2 million (and some say 3 million) books published yearly (according to UNESCO), can an author ever hope to climb to the top of the heap?

The truth is, you can’t. To think otherwise is delusional. At least that’s what a book coach and influencer told me during a Zoom call attended by hundreds of writers from across the globe. “You are delusional,” she said to me. Well, maybe she didn’t actually call ME delusional, just my thinking. Same thing. It hurt my feelings. But I realize now she was right. Except, maybe I wasn’t so much delusional as outdated and naive. I was waiting for others to take charge of my destiny, instead of me.

My book is NOT: historical fantasy, speculative historical fiction, historical crime, a retelling of Greek myths or historical romantasy. It’s not anything that the publishing powerful say they want.

author Lorraine Norwood

My book is the story of one girl’s dogged pursuit to be the first female physician in England specializing in the care of women. The book is heavy on common people and light on the nobility. There aren’t any Tudors for another 200 years. The book is bloody, realistic, and gruesome in places. In fact, Goodreads contains this content warning: Abortion, miscarriage, death, misogyny, racial discrimination, gruesome medical procedures, and this review, “While I loved the grittiness of the story, a few scenes were a bit too crude for my reading preferences.”

Well, as the man says, “The past is a foreign country. They do things differently there.” Like die from childbed fever.

I now had a choice. I could spend more years of my life querying for an agent, querying the major and minor publishers, and waiting . . . and waiting or . . .

I was now 73 years old. I didn’t have time to wait.

I took an intense course on self-publishing. Self-publishing, no longer the red-headed stepchild of the author’s world, has gotten easier and more user friendly. But I decided my time could be spent more wisely by writing while I paid others to produce the book. After a lot of research and consultation with writer friends, I pivoted to hybrid publishing. One year later my book was born and out in the world.

At the recent History Quill 2025 virtual conference, panelists agreed that today traditional and indie publishing must go beyond mere writing and printing a book; multiple formats are increasingly important along with newsletters, blogs, email lists, social branding and authority on a subject.

And you thought all you had to do was write. Well, not anymore.

So, I’ll leave you with a few thoughts about the long and winding road.

There are many paths to publishing today. That’s the good news. You can send your work to agents or to small presses that don’t require an agent. You can send your work to hybrid presses or you can self-publish.

Do you have five years? Do you want to put it out there and get rejected or languish in a slush pile? Or do you want to see it out in the world in a year or possibly less?

For those of us who are "of a certain age," there is no question. We can’t wait. The finished book—that is, the book that has been through beta readers, a developmental editor, a proofreader, a cover artist, and typographer—needs to be born as quickly as possible.

If you really want to do it, don’t wait. You’ll wait yourself into the grave. Morbid? Yes. But true. Sh*t happens. If you wait, it’s going to happen anyway. Don’t wait.

~

Lorraine Norwood is a North Carolina native living in the Blue Ridge Mountains with her 14-year-old yellow Lab who thinks food is more interesting than writing. Lorraine is working on The Margaret Chronicles, an historical fiction series set in 14th century England and France. The first of the series, The Solitary Sparrow, was published in 2024. She is hard at work on the sequel, A Pelican in the Wilderness. 

Lorraine worked as a journalist in print and television for over 20 years before living the dream at the University of York in York, UK, where she earned a master’s degree in medieval archaeology. She has participated in excavations in York and at other sites in England, including a leper hospital. 

She is a member of the Women’s Fiction Writers Association and the Historical Novel Society. She is happy that at long last, after two marriages, two children, twelve jobs, three college degrees, and twenty-three moves, she has a room of her own in which to write. 

The need for speed: Emma Donoghue's The Paris Express imagines the lead-up to a historic train disaster

On the morning of October 22, 1895, the Paris Express leaves the town of Granville in Normandy for its seven-hour, ten-minute trip to the capital. Unbeknownst to its many passengers, the train is hurtling toward a crashing halt. Donoghue (Learned by Heart, 2023) superbly portrays the lead-up to the Montparnasse derailment, a disaster memorialized in astounding photographs, as experienced by travelers of diverse nationalities and social classes.

Among them are a mixed-race American painter aspiring to greater achievements, an Algerian coffee-seller, a young boy bravely journeying alone, a female physiology student who observes classic signs of disease in a teenage girl in her car, and married workmen who enjoy a unique partnership. Quietly, an anarchist on board weighs the right moment to strike.

Always balancing safety with keeping on schedule, crewmen feel pressured to make up any lost time. The pacing ramps up further midway through, the atmosphere tense.

Donoghue’s particular forte lies in showing how confined circumstances shape interactions. Her characterization is a marvel as she dexterously yet efficiently illustrates people’s outward appearances and innermost desires. In her hands, the novel’s long-ago setting becomes an exciting place buzzing with fresh life and technological ideas on the cusp of a new century.

The Paris Express will be published by Summit Books, an imprint of Simon & Schuster, next Tuesday, March 18th; I wrote this draft review for Booklist's February issue.  

I won't link to articles about the notorious derailment since There Be Spoilers for this particular novel, but you can google it if you so choose!