A few thoughts on age and romance novels

I’ve been reading an excellent sci-fi romance by Jessie Mihalik. Polaris Rising (2019) is set in the far distant future. Humankind has spread across the galaxy but remains deeply capitalist. A small number of rich families live like the aristocrats of old, their actions affecting the lives of millions of people.

The lead female character, Ada, is a younger daughter of one of these aristocratic families. When the story begins, she’s on the run from her father and determined to avoid an arranged marriage. She meets Loch, an outlaw with a very dangerous reputation. From the point of view of any romance reader, he’s a very attractive person. He’s capable, knowledgeable, strong, and thoughtful.

However, one thing makes it difficult for me to picture Loch in the way that I would like. And that’s what I want to talk about in this blog post today. It’s his age. The story specifically states that he’s in his mid-twenties.

This specificity made Loch’s character less romantically appealing to me as an older reader. For much of the book, I was able to pretend that he and Ada were somewhere vaguely in their thirties. (It’s reasonable to assume that people might live a lot longer in a space-faring civilisation, meaning that adulthood starts later.)

As soon as Loch’s age was specified, he became someone young enough to be my son. He’s still capable, knowledgeable, strong, and thoughtful, of course. But from my position as an older reader, he’s no longer the same. He’s nowhere near my stage of life, so I can’t see him in “that way.”

In most genres of fiction, the age of the main characters is not that important. It doesn’t matter to me how old the detective is in a crime novel. But romance is different, particularly when the love interest’s immediate physical appeal is integral to the other main character’s motivations. (It isn’t Loch’s mind that first attracts Ada.) In this kind of romance, the love interest should ideally be someone the reader doesn’t feel too distanced from. Otherwise, we can’t immerse ourselves in the other character’s feelings toward them.

Being able to identify with the character who is in love is another important part of the reading experience. Their feelings need to be understandable to us in a visceral way.

In romances where the characters’ ages are not specified too heavily, the reader can imagine them as slightly older than the author perhaps originally intended. When the ages are clearly specified, it cements the characters into a particular life stage and risks distancing readers who are in a very different period of life.

Supernatural romances tend to avoid this problem. When the love interest is many centuries old, it places them outside the usual flow of human life. Readers of all ages can imagine themselves swooning over a 1,000-year-old vampire without the worry of “he’s too young / too old for me.”

All this brings me to two conclusions. Firstly, in romances about adult couples, a little vagueness about age is not a bad thing. Secondly, it’s important that we have romances about adult characters at all life stages.

For me, the issue with Loch isn’t that he’s different to me. I’m not an adventurer in space and he’s not a 21st-century Englishwoman. The issue is that life stages are an important aspect of how humans relate to each other. He’s literally not in the same train carriage as me.

Lucy Worsley’s Victorian Murder Club

I love Lucy Worsley’s TV shows. Formerly a curator at the Historic Royal Palaces, she now presents history programmes that explore topics in depth. Her enthusiastic style has made her a popular TV favourite.

Her most recent show is the Victorian Murder Club, a three-part series investigating a serial killer contemporary to Jack the Ripper. The “Thames Torso Murderer” was active in London in the same decade and never caught.

I doubted I’d enjoy it, given the subject, but I gave it a chance because it was Worsley. The show turned out to be fascinating and I kind of miss it now that it’s over.

My favourite parts were when Worsley discussed the forensic reports and the killer’s activities with professional experts who assist the justice process today. They were able to give informed advice about how the Thames Torso Murderer compares to other modern serial killers.

Most notably, one specialist gave comment on the Victorian police’s forensic reports. Her thoughts were particularly useful and helped dispel one theory.

Consulting these experts helped to communicate that these events really happened and affected real people. It also shed an interesting light on how advanced police techniques already were at that time.

As I’m sure you’re aware, Jack the Ripper is so well known that he’s almost a cartoonish figure these days. In Worsley’s show there was no danger of the same thing happening to the Thames Torso Murderer.

I really liked the respectful attention that Worsley paid to the victims themselves. Where possible, she visited their burial sites and tried to learn about their lives.

The third episode provides a convincing theory about who the serial killer might have been. The man identified is known to have committed crimes against women on the Thames. The reports from survivors give a disturbing indication of what may have happened to the Thames Torso Murderer’s victims.

It’s okay if you don’t want to watch Lucy Worsley’s Victorian Murder Club. We’ve had decades of TV sensationalising the murders of women and glorifying serial killers. It’s quite understandable if you’d rather not watch anything about murder ever again.

However, I do think this show counterbalances the sins of earlier television trends. It’s an emotionally intelligent production that brings real history alive without lionising any of the criminals mentioned.

Long lives, many changes

When I was a child, life in Britain was relatively stable. Desktop computers, mobile phones, and the internet had yet to cause significant disruption to daily life. Out-of-town shopping malls were the only real competition for the streets of shops that ran through most town centres.

Then the internet became widespread and changed our lives. It was a disaster for shopkeepers, but for anyone who enjoyed writing, it greatly opened up opportunities. Writers became bloggers, social media experts, copywriters, editors, and self-published authors.

In the decades before the internet, there weren’t so many career opportunities for writers. If they weren’t accepted by publishing houses, advertising agencies, or magazines, there wasn’t much else out there.

As we all know, the following 20 to 30 years were quite different. Writers used the internet to make names for themselves, writing in many different fields. They also earned a good living behind the scenes, in marketing and other areas of commercial communication.

A few years ago, the public release of Gen AI helped to bring the writers’ golden age to an end. Jobs for writers still exist, and creative writing is going strong … but things are different now.

Today’s writing prompt asks, “What are your thoughts on the concept of living a very long life?”

I think people who live for a long time experience a lot of change. New conditions come in and become normal for a few decades before giving way to something completely different.

Even though I lived through the first internet revolution, I didn’t expect this most recent change. I thought that the opportunities for writers would stay the same forever. I imagine that people in their eighties and nineties wouldn’t have been so easily surprised!

Daily writing prompt
What are your thoughts on the concept of living a very long life?

The mysterious case of Trephina from Powys

This holiday season I’ve been amusing myself with the Ancestry website. It’s a great genealogy resource for people with ancestors from Britain.

Thousands of users have already posted public family trees on the website. I found nearly everything I wanted to know by looking at those trees and double-checking the sources.

Each person on a tree has their own profile with links to records such as census data, marriage certificates, and baptism registers. If you’re really lucky, you’ll find that some users have also uploaded pictures and newspaper clipping from their research outside the website.

I always check the records to see if the facts go well with what I already know. It’s common to find wrong turns such as two men with similar names but different home addresses, wives, and offspring.

I was able to speak to relatives born in the 1940s and I had access to some family papers. So, I was able to confirm the accuracy of my family trees back to the middle of the 19th century. One line went back even further because a very distant cousin, a writer, had posted her own independent research on Ancestry.

I was able to check her data very carefully because these ancestors were gentry and well documented. It’s much more difficult tracing ancestors from poorer backgrounds. Variations in the spelling of names was common and some people were also inconsistent about how old they were.

One woman caught my eye. Her name was Tryphena. She appears on at least 27 public family trees, but her details are often muddled.

Tryphena told census takers that she was born in Newtown, Montgomeryshire. Some website users have confused her with a Tryphena from Newport, Monmouthshire. Both places are in Wales.

On at least one profile her name is given as Sarah Tryphena Wade. I found the record of Sarah Wade’s marriage to George Wilby and the record for the baptism of their firstborn child. In the census a few years later, George and two children are living with someone called Tryphena. Were Sarah and Tryphena the same person?

It was common for people to prefer their middle names. It seemed possible that Sarah always went by Tryphena and gave that name to census takers.

However, in the marriage register it said that Sarah’s father was a farmer and that her residence was Long Acre. Places in Wales did have, and still do have, Welsh and English names. But equally, Long Acre could have been a farm in England.

I considered the possibility that Tryphena might be George’s second wife. I then looked for some official record of her in Montgomeryshire. This was easier said than done, as I kept tripping over the Tryphena who lived in Monmouthshire.

I finally struck gold when I allowed for variations in the spelling of Tryphena. I found a girl of the right age, baptised in Llanllwchaearn near Newtown in Montgomeryshire (the county is now called Powys). This is what the baptism register said:

Trephina, base daughter of Mary Whittaker and reputed father Edward Turner (spinner), of Penygloddfa. Baptised 17th April, 1836. By Charles Wingfield at the parish of Llanllwchaiarn in the county of Montgomery.

I then looked for official evidence that this Tryphena had actually married George in London. I found none. It could be possible that Tryphena was a non-conformist who wasn’t married by the Church of England. I also found no evidence for the Anglican baptism of the second of the two daughters listed with George and Tryphena on the census. Did Tryphena have her baptised in a chapel?

There were Welsh non-conformist chapels in London for Welsh migrants. There’s a strong possibility that Tryphena spoke Welsh and might have wanted to stay connected with other Welsh speakers in London.

I couldn’t find evidence for the death of George’s first wife, Sarah Wade/Wilby, in London. There were other Sarah Wades and Wilbys elsewhere in the country, but it was impossible to know whether they were George’s Sarah. A record of death would have helped establish whether Tryphena was the biological mother of the younger daughter.

One possible version of events is that Tryphena, like many Welsh people, came to London to find work. She met George, who was then a single father to one daughter. They then married in a non-conformist chapel and had one more daughter. Many years later, when the eldest daughter married in an Anglican church, her stepmother Tryphena was a witness at the wedding.

Of course, without documentation, there is no way to know for sure. The Tryphena I found in Wales may not be George’s Tryphena. Or if she was, perhaps they never married, or perhaps both daughters were Sarah’s.

What is clear is that a Tryphena from Montgomeryshire had a long relationship with George Wilby and raised two daughters with him in East London. She was therefore a significant part of their family’s story, as was Sarah Wade of Long Acre.

Identities became muddled on the Ancestry website for all kinds of reasons. The 19th-century handwriting on census forms is difficult to read, so confusing Monmouthshire with Montgomeryshire is understandable. Many of Ancestry’s users are not in the UK and may not be aware of historic county names.

The variations in the spelling of Tryphena’s name made baptism records hard to find. Later, the absence of an entry in a Church of England marriage register obscured the possibility of Tryphena being a second wife.

If you use Ancestry, never take the information on the profiles at face value. Similarly, the wrong documents can be attached to pages that appear helpful at first glance. For example, I thought I found evidence of the Monmouthshire Tryphena’s death, but when I looked at the document she wasn’t named.

I’m quietly confident that my Tryphena was Trephina, daughter of Mary. I’ll never know for sure, but that’s the nature of historical research.

Writing historical fiction that appeals to modern views

I really enjoyed the first season of Belgravia: The Next Chapter. It’s about a young couple’s first year together. There are also very strong subplots about their siblings, their neighbours, and their staff.

The show got me thinking about how historical fiction can stay true to the past and yet appeal to modern tastes.

It’s set in the 1870s and touches on some features of that time, most notably the severe difficulties faced by gay men, unmarried mothers, and disabled children. We all know that a lot has changed for all three groups over the last 50 years. Our modern sensibilities are very different to those of the 1870s.

What I liked about the show is that some of the characters voiced the views that were mainstream at the time. This helps us to understand why people thought as they did.

I was impressed by how the writers balanced this historical accuracy with modern sensibilities. The characters’ conversations reflected the 1870s, but the action of the plot led to outcomes that appeal to 2020s thinking.

Belgravia: The Next Chapter demonstrates that it’s possible to stay true to history while still appealing to current social values. The solution isn’t to make the characters say modern things. It’s to help them overcome the worst aspects of their time in a way that pleases us today.

Of course, there are other ways to accurately reflect history within the parameters of present-day tastes. Belgravia: The Next Chapter is designed to be cosy evening TV. Naturally, its approach is relatively cheerful.

I’ve been watching season one of a supernatural horror called The Terror. It’s a fictionalised account of a real British expedition that went missing in the Arctic in the 1840s.

To me, The Terror feels very authentically historical, but it has two elements that appeal to modern sensibilities while staying in keeping with the time.

Firstly, the characters are well written. We can relate to them as human beings who have the same weaknesses and vulnerabilities as us. They struggle with the same human emotions that affect us today.

Secondly, the supernatural element, although well integrated into the story, can be interpreted by viewers as a modern comment on British colonialism. The British characters are literally blundering into an indigenous spirit that does not want them there.

The lesson to be learned from both shows is that it’s not necessary to make characters say modern things to create historical fiction that is suitable for modern readers/viewers.

Dialogue that sounds too modern can be a problem for writers of historical fiction, so this is worth remembering.

Prehistory and the Romans on the BBC

At this time of year, I like to watch documentaries. They’re a reminder of a more colourful world, out there beyond the gloomy British weather. I saw three interesting ones on the BBC at the weekend. Two inspired me with a glimpse into prehistory. One taught me about ancient Rome, but was also a bit exasperating.

Let’s start with the best.

The Mystery of the Desert Kites is about the world’s oldest megalithic structures. Scattered across the Arabian desert, they are vast symmetrical shapes. Made from low stone walls, they’re cleverly designed to be difficult to see on the ground. That’s why people in planes were the first to spot them.

There are more than 6,000 in existence, with some extending over several kilometres. They’re also far older than the pyramids or Stonehenge.

This documentary explores their age and original purpose. I found it quite awe-inspiring to think about people who lived such a long time ago. These humans performed two remarkable feats. They made the structures symmetrical, despite not being able to see them clearly from the ground. They also carved accurate maps of the shapes into stone.

The Mystery of the Desert Kites is a lesson in how intelligent humans can be, even without access to modern technology.

I also enjoyed The Lost Neanderthals, a similarly scholarly and intelligent documentary. It’s about a cave in southern France that was inhabited by Neanderthals for many thousands of years.

In 2015, investigators found the remains of a Neanderthal man they called Thorin. Tests on Thorin’s bones led to a discovery that suggests Neanderthals lived in cultural communities, just as we do today. If you’ve ever fancied writing a novel about the Neanderthals, it’s worth watching this documentary.

Most of human history has been forgotten. There’s so much we don’t know about the far distant past. On the other hand, we know a lot about the Romans because they left huge quantities of written material behind.

The last documentary I saw this weekend was about the fall of the Roman Empire in the 5th century CE. Civilisations: Rise and Fall episode 1.1 is very informative but takes a sensationalist, attention-grabbing approach.

There are lots of clips of historians talking and dramatised clips with actors. There’s also a sense of urgency, with heavy hints that Western civilisation is heading the way of Rome.

Whereas the first two documentaries went in deep on single subjects, Civilisations: Rise and Fall condenses decades of Roman history into less than an hour.

I thought that the attempts to draw parallels with issues in our time were risky. That’s because rather than go into detailed specifics about the 21st century, they left the parallels open to interpretation. I read them as ‘treat people well.’ Another viewer with different political beliefs could have read them as ‘people are a threat.’

The first two documentaries allow history to be history. The third uses history as a tool to make a point. I’m not against using history to say something about today, but I think it needs to be carried out very carefully.

The War Between the Land and the Sea – Review

I’ve been watching The War Between the Land and the Sea, a five-part miniseries made for Disney and the BBC. It’s set in the same universe as Doctor Who, the popular British show about a charismatic alien who travels through time.

This new miniseries has had some poor reviews in the UK. I suspect it’s because people have very high expectations of the Doctor Who franchise. Doctor Who first aired in 1963 and has gone through many changes since its reboot in 2005. As with Star Trek and Star Wars, fans have their favourite and not-so-favourite eras and actors.

The first two episodes of The War Between the Land and the Sea deal with the establishment of diplomatic relations between humankind and an ancient species of sea-dwelling humanoid. They set the scene for the rest of the story, so viewers understand the characters and know what’s at stake.

I found them a little bit slow because there was so much diplomacy.

Episode one did begin with Barclay, the everyman character, being thrust into an unusual situation, but there wasn’t enough novelty in it for my taste. Admittedly, I had just been watching Stranger Things, so my bar was set very high.

Episode two ended on an exciting note with the clear promise of great adventures to come. I was very impressed by the special effects and the visualisation of a serious environmental issue.

I genuinely enjoyed the third and fourth instalments. They had underwater adventure, an introduction to the sea people’s technology, and the beginnings of a cross-species romance between Salt (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) and Barclay (Russell Tovey).

I have no idea what’s going to happen in the finale next week. I hope it’s going to be a happy ever after for Salt and everyman Barclay. Whether a human man and a fish woman can form a lasting relationship, only time will tell.

The War Between the Land and the Sea is an interesting example of a story that changes in size from scene to scene. At its biggest, it’s about the relationship between all of humankind and everyone who lives in the water. At its smallest, it’s about Salt and Barclay.

I preferred episodes three and four because they focused on the main characters. That’s more a matter of taste than a criticism. I suspect the show’s creator, Russell T. Davies, may have used the romance to add flavour to the bigger story about humankind’s reign on planet Earth.

I would’ve preferred the show to be primarily a romance, but I can’t really blame it for not being what it’s not.

The War Between the Land and the Sea is available on the BBC iPlayer now and will be on Disney in 2026.

The Jane Austen Collection (2020)

I’ve been listening to the complete works of Jane Austen on Audible. I’m using The Jane Austen Collection, released by Audible Originals in 2020.

The main narrators are Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Claire Foy, Billie Piper, Emma Thompson, and Florence Pugh. The dialogue is voiced by a large cast of actors, and there are sound effects.

So far, I’ve listened to Sense and Sensibility. I’m now most of the way through Northanger Abbey.

It’s a lovely audio production. I’d recommend it to anybody. It’s like listening to a really good radio play.

It’s been a while since I last read Jane Austen. Listening to the novels now, I’m struck by how closely she observed human behaviour and how relevant she still is today.

In Northanger Abbey, her descriptions of the young friends in Bath reminded me of my student days. The way they interact and sometimes misunderstand each other feels very true to life. It has some of the awkwardness of the TV show Girls.

Sense and Sensibility includes an account of a disastrous relationship breakup that involves elements of ghosting and gaslighting.

I’m interested in the authors who influenced Jane Austen. So, after Northanger Abbey, I’ll take a break and give Fanny Burney or Ann Radcliffe a go.

Idealised romantic heroes

Last night, I watched a Christmas comedy-romance about a medieval knight who travels from England to modern-day Ohio in America. He has a quest to fulfil to become “a true knight.” Along the way, he finds a friend in Brooke, a school teacher who no longer believes in love.

I’m talking, of course, about The Knight Before Christmas (2019), starring Vanessa Hudgens as Brooke and Josh Whitehouse as Sir Cole of Norwich.

If this movie were Christmas food, it’d be a gingerbread house. It’s innocent, cheerful, and almost entirely free from peril. The only dangerous moment is resolved quickly by Sir Cole.

All in all, The Knight Before Christmas is the perfect Christmas movie for people of all ages.

While watching the story unfold, I was puzzled by Sir Cole. He reminded me of another fictional character. But who?

It took me some time to realise that I was thinking of Damon Salvatore from Vampire Diaries (a TV series that is definitely not safe viewing for children).

Despite their significant differences, Sir Cole and the vampire Damon are romantic ideals. They’re steadfast in love, physically strong, and protective of those they care for.

Both knight and vampire also possess a kind of otherworldly wisdom that makes them very attractive. They’re literally from another time and place. So, we can believe they won’t behave like the people we meet in everyday life. This gives them a kind of escapist glamour.

Sir Cole is squeaky clean and as adorable as a Labrador puppy dog. He’s also not very deep. The movie tells us nothing about his flaws. This medieval knight isn’t a real human being; he’s a symbol of the true love that Brooke declares she no longer believes in.

Damon is Sir Cole’s exact opposite. He’s a dangerous predator who can turn off his morality like a switch, yet he still manages to be a romantic hero. Why? Because he isn’t human at all. We can’t judge him by the standards of our world.

Romantic heroes like Damon and Sir Cole work because they’re not real people. We can enjoy them without bringing in our lived experience. Believing in them gives us a chance to enjoy an ideal.

Importantly, they don’t remind us of anyone we know. And this gives the storytelling a chance to transport us away from daily life.

Renovation Romance (2024) movie review

It’s late November, so it’s time to watch as many Christmas movies as humanly possible. My favourite so far is Renovation Romance, directed by Robin Dunne and starring Jessica Lowndes.

I like it because it has an element of unpredictability. At the start, it’s not obvious which male character is going to be the main love interest. The viewers are left to watch the characters’ behaviour and make their own decisions based on each man’s loveableness.

I really appreciate having a sense of autonomy when watching or reading a romance. It’s lightly empowering and allows me to feel involved in the story.

Like all good Christmas movies, Renovation Romance builds the plot around a scenario. In this case, the characters are filming a TV show about home renovation and couples therapy. The week before Christmas, they go to New Hampshire to fix up a house and help its owners.

The making of the TV show introduces another essential element of storytelling: difficulty. When the production process becomes harder than expected, it helps shape the plot and the characters’ journey.

Overall, Renovation Romance is a thoughtfully made Christmas movie that delivers in almost all areas. My one criticism is that the house in New Hampshire looked very new and clearly didn’t need renovating!