Nicola here. Last week I had the fabulous treat of a trip to Stratford-On-Avon to see the play “The Roaring Girl,” written by Thomas Middleton and Thomas Dekker, who were contemporaries of William Shakespeare. The poster for it is on the left. I love the Swan Theatre at Stratford; it is small and intimate with the stage projecting into the audience and a three-sided gallery. You feel transported back to the sort of theatre that 17th century audiences would have visited, though probably these days we have more comfortable seats.
The Roaring Girl is the story of a character called Moll Cutpurse. The name Moll is a pun: as well as being short for Mary it was a word used to describe a young woman of disreputable character who has a reputation as a thief or “cutpurse.” The phrase The Roaring Girl is more often used to refer to “roaring boys”, the gallants who got drunk in taverns, roistered about London, got into fights, smoked, and generally behaved badly.
The ideal modest woman of the 17th century was described in one conduct book as someone whose “home is her delight, at public plays she never will be seen and to be a tavern guest she hates.” Moll most decidedly does not fit this image with her men’s clothing, her smoking, drinking and swordfighting. Yet the play, written in 1611, is surprisingly sympathetic to Moll. She is portrayed as a woman determined to be her own person in a society that demands conformity. It can be construed as a proto-feminist piece. Moll is called a whore by those men who disapprove of her behaviour and want to control her, yet she is shown to be honest with a more powerful sense of morality than those who try to entrap her.
The real Mary Frith upon whom the play was based was perhaps not such a sympathetic character
although the records of the time were very biased against her. A book written in 1662 sensationalised 
her life and created a myth around her. The picture on the right shows her in full cross-dressing finery.
Mary was born in the mid-1580s, the daughter of a shoemaker and the niece of a minister who tried to reform her criminal ways when she was still young by sending her to New England. She allegedly jumped overboard before the ship sailed.
Mary’s first criminal indictment came in 1600 when she was about 16 years old and she was accused of stealing 2 shillings and 11 pence. She was known as a pickpocket or “cutpurse” who would steal from passers-by in the environs of St Paul’s Cathedral. She worked with an accomplice who would distract the victim whilst Mary cut the strings that attached their leather purse to their belt. By 1620 she was working as a procuress supplying women for her male clients and also providing male lovers for bored wives. She also worked as a fence for stolen goods.
So far, so criminal. It was other aspects of Mary’s behaviour that caused greater outrage, however. In a society with very clear gender roles she simply did not conform. She dressed in a doublet and breeches, smoked a pipe (it was claimed that she was the first woman in England to smoke), carried a sword and swore liberally. She would carouse in taverns and pick fights in the street for entertainment. Given that such behaviour was the exclusive reserve of men, Mary’s antics provoked accusations of “evil living.” She even appeared on stage at the Fortune Theatre in 1611, which was a breach of convention for a woman. The fact that she wore men’s clothing, played bawdy songs and bantered with the audience presumably only cemented her poor reputation further. She was accused of dressing indecently and of being a prostitute, the general consensus of the day being that women who dressed in men’s attire were “sexually riotous and uncontrollable.” Mary was required to do penance for her bad behaviour at St Paul’s Cross and apparently wept bitterly and seemed to repent her “unfeminine” ways. This satisfied the authorities – until it was discovered that she was not penitent, merely very drunk.
Other exploits added to Mary’s fame. She took on a bet to ride from Charing Cross to Shoreditch 
dressed as a man, flaunting a banner and blowing a trumpet just to draw more attention to herself. Her horse was called Marocco and was the most famous performing animal in London, shod in silver. It was claimed that Marocco could dance, play dice and count money. His most famous trick was the climb the steps of St Paul’s Cathedral and dance on the roof. However as he was a horse rather than a woman, he was not indicted for “evil living.”
An interesting aspect of Mary’s character was that her house was beautifully kept, she liked fine clothes and she had several maids to take care of her home and her wardrobe. The picutre on the left shows her in female dress and hints at her vanity. She doted on her pet parrots and mastiffs. She claimed to have no interest in sex at all other than a way of making money out of others.
The English Civil War brought with it new opportunities and Mary became a 
highwaywoman. As an ardent Royalist she took pleasure in robbing prominent parliamentarians, the most famous of whom was Thomas Fairfax, whom she relieved of two hundred and fifty crowns and also shot in the arm during the encounter. But such exploits could not continue indefinitely and Moll was captured, sent to Newgate and condemned to death. She bought her freedom with two thousand pounds, a vast sum of money in those days. However, she was incarcerated in Bethlem Hospital for insanity, possibly another way that the authorities saw of controlling her unruliness. She was eventually released in 1644 after being “cured” and died in 1659. It’s possible that she as an inspiration for the novel Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe.
Whilst I can't approve of the way that Mary earned a living I do admire her determination to be her own
person and the way in which she refused to conform to society's rules for women. These days we aren't as restricted by gender stereotyping as the ladies (and gentlemen for that matter) of the 17th century but I wonder how we feel about the heroines of our historical novels? Does it feel odd and anachronistic to read about a "roaring girl" or a Regency heroine who behaves like a man would have done, drinking, smoking and fighting? Or is it fun to see a heroine breaking society's rules? Do you have any favourite unconventional heroines?
Ha! “Home is her delight”!
I’ve walked past that theatre a few times, but always around Christmas, so I’ve never been inside.
“Does it feel odd and anachronistic to read about a “roaring girl” or a Regency heroine who behaves like a man would have done, drinking, smoking and fighting?”
I guess I have an issue with heroines like that when all the other women in the story are painted as vain and stupid for *not* acting like the heroine. I really despise it when traditional female things like embroidery and fashion are portrayed as bad, and women who enjoy them portrayed as not worthy of the hero.
I can really enjoy unconventional heroines as long as society reacts realistically (so, they don’t all stand around smiling and thinking she’s cute for embarrassing her family!). There has to be that struggle there for me to believe it.
Ha! “Home is her delight”!
I’ve walked past that theatre a few times, but always around Christmas, so I’ve never been inside.
“Does it feel odd and anachronistic to read about a “roaring girl” or a Regency heroine who behaves like a man would have done, drinking, smoking and fighting?”
I guess I have an issue with heroines like that when all the other women in the story are painted as vain and stupid for *not* acting like the heroine. I really despise it when traditional female things like embroidery and fashion are portrayed as bad, and women who enjoy them portrayed as not worthy of the hero.
I can really enjoy unconventional heroines as long as society reacts realistically (so, they don’t all stand around smiling and thinking she’s cute for embarrassing her family!). There has to be that struggle there for me to believe it.
Ha! “Home is her delight”!
I’ve walked past that theatre a few times, but always around Christmas, so I’ve never been inside.
“Does it feel odd and anachronistic to read about a “roaring girl” or a Regency heroine who behaves like a man would have done, drinking, smoking and fighting?”
I guess I have an issue with heroines like that when all the other women in the story are painted as vain and stupid for *not* acting like the heroine. I really despise it when traditional female things like embroidery and fashion are portrayed as bad, and women who enjoy them portrayed as not worthy of the hero.
I can really enjoy unconventional heroines as long as society reacts realistically (so, they don’t all stand around smiling and thinking she’s cute for embarrassing her family!). There has to be that struggle there for me to believe it.
Ha! “Home is her delight”!
I’ve walked past that theatre a few times, but always around Christmas, so I’ve never been inside.
“Does it feel odd and anachronistic to read about a “roaring girl” or a Regency heroine who behaves like a man would have done, drinking, smoking and fighting?”
I guess I have an issue with heroines like that when all the other women in the story are painted as vain and stupid for *not* acting like the heroine. I really despise it when traditional female things like embroidery and fashion are portrayed as bad, and women who enjoy them portrayed as not worthy of the hero.
I can really enjoy unconventional heroines as long as society reacts realistically (so, they don’t all stand around smiling and thinking she’s cute for embarrassing her family!). There has to be that struggle there for me to believe it.
Ha! “Home is her delight”!
I’ve walked past that theatre a few times, but always around Christmas, so I’ve never been inside.
“Does it feel odd and anachronistic to read about a “roaring girl” or a Regency heroine who behaves like a man would have done, drinking, smoking and fighting?”
I guess I have an issue with heroines like that when all the other women in the story are painted as vain and stupid for *not* acting like the heroine. I really despise it when traditional female things like embroidery and fashion are portrayed as bad, and women who enjoy them portrayed as not worthy of the hero.
I can really enjoy unconventional heroines as long as society reacts realistically (so, they don’t all stand around smiling and thinking she’s cute for embarrassing her family!). There has to be that struggle there for me to believe it.
Very interesting points, Sonya, thank you. I agree that to contrast “traditional” feminine talents unfavourably against a hoyden heroine can be very irritating. I agree that whilst it’s clear that wayward women did exist, it’s unlikely that their families and society in general would be very indulgent of their antics!
Very interesting points, Sonya, thank you. I agree that to contrast “traditional” feminine talents unfavourably against a hoyden heroine can be very irritating. I agree that whilst it’s clear that wayward women did exist, it’s unlikely that their families and society in general would be very indulgent of their antics!
Very interesting points, Sonya, thank you. I agree that to contrast “traditional” feminine talents unfavourably against a hoyden heroine can be very irritating. I agree that whilst it’s clear that wayward women did exist, it’s unlikely that their families and society in general would be very indulgent of their antics!
Very interesting points, Sonya, thank you. I agree that to contrast “traditional” feminine talents unfavourably against a hoyden heroine can be very irritating. I agree that whilst it’s clear that wayward women did exist, it’s unlikely that their families and society in general would be very indulgent of their antics!
Very interesting points, Sonya, thank you. I agree that to contrast “traditional” feminine talents unfavourably against a hoyden heroine can be very irritating. I agree that whilst it’s clear that wayward women did exist, it’s unlikely that their families and society in general would be very indulgent of their antics!
I guess I mean I like it if I can be convinced it could have happened – which is definitely possible!
I guess I mean I like it if I can be convinced it could have happened – which is definitely possible!
I guess I mean I like it if I can be convinced it could have happened – which is definitely possible!
I guess I mean I like it if I can be convinced it could have happened – which is definitely possible!
I guess I mean I like it if I can be convinced it could have happened – which is definitely possible!
Fascinating, Nicola! She sounds like a true Original and admirable in her determination to live life her own way.
As Sonya pointed out, though, a story with a mannish heroine that disses more traditional women is no fun, and rather irritating. I like books where women can express their individualism realistically within their social parameters.
Fascinating, Nicola! She sounds like a true Original and admirable in her determination to live life her own way.
As Sonya pointed out, though, a story with a mannish heroine that disses more traditional women is no fun, and rather irritating. I like books where women can express their individualism realistically within their social parameters.
Fascinating, Nicola! She sounds like a true Original and admirable in her determination to live life her own way.
As Sonya pointed out, though, a story with a mannish heroine that disses more traditional women is no fun, and rather irritating. I like books where women can express their individualism realistically within their social parameters.
Fascinating, Nicola! She sounds like a true Original and admirable in her determination to live life her own way.
As Sonya pointed out, though, a story with a mannish heroine that disses more traditional women is no fun, and rather irritating. I like books where women can express their individualism realistically within their social parameters.
Fascinating, Nicola! She sounds like a true Original and admirable in her determination to live life her own way.
As Sonya pointed out, though, a story with a mannish heroine that disses more traditional women is no fun, and rather irritating. I like books where women can express their individualism realistically within their social parameters.
Slightly off-topic and strictly as a sidebar: My fur gets fluffed up when women’s needle arts are trivialized. Embroidery runs in my family, and I had a friend who was in the Embroiderers Guild. This can be serious stuff, as long as you’re not doing puppies and kittens.
Slightly off-topic and strictly as a sidebar: My fur gets fluffed up when women’s needle arts are trivialized. Embroidery runs in my family, and I had a friend who was in the Embroiderers Guild. This can be serious stuff, as long as you’re not doing puppies and kittens.
Slightly off-topic and strictly as a sidebar: My fur gets fluffed up when women’s needle arts are trivialized. Embroidery runs in my family, and I had a friend who was in the Embroiderers Guild. This can be serious stuff, as long as you’re not doing puppies and kittens.
Slightly off-topic and strictly as a sidebar: My fur gets fluffed up when women’s needle arts are trivialized. Embroidery runs in my family, and I had a friend who was in the Embroiderers Guild. This can be serious stuff, as long as you’re not doing puppies and kittens.
Slightly off-topic and strictly as a sidebar: My fur gets fluffed up when women’s needle arts are trivialized. Embroidery runs in my family, and I had a friend who was in the Embroiderers Guild. This can be serious stuff, as long as you’re not doing puppies and kittens.
Thank you, Mary Jo. I love the term “an Original!” So descriptive!
Thank you, Mary Jo. I love the term “an Original!” So descriptive!
Thank you, Mary Jo. I love the term “an Original!” So descriptive!
Thank you, Mary Jo. I love the term “an Original!” So descriptive!
Thank you, Mary Jo. I love the term “an Original!” So descriptive!
Absolutely, Artemisia. The “feminine arts” were and are extremely skilful and a fascinating background to any heroine’s experience, I think. I love stories that feature heroines skilled in embroidery or art or music etc.
Absolutely, Artemisia. The “feminine arts” were and are extremely skilful and a fascinating background to any heroine’s experience, I think. I love stories that feature heroines skilled in embroidery or art or music etc.
Absolutely, Artemisia. The “feminine arts” were and are extremely skilful and a fascinating background to any heroine’s experience, I think. I love stories that feature heroines skilled in embroidery or art or music etc.
Absolutely, Artemisia. The “feminine arts” were and are extremely skilful and a fascinating background to any heroine’s experience, I think. I love stories that feature heroines skilled in embroidery or art or music etc.
Absolutely, Artemisia. The “feminine arts” were and are extremely skilful and a fascinating background to any heroine’s experience, I think. I love stories that feature heroines skilled in embroidery or art or music etc.
I’ll add to the bandwagon on the feminine arts, especially since my mother is an outstanding quilter. It’s so sad that cloth is so perishable and susceptible to sun; such art only survives if it is carefully stored, meaning it cannot be used much or often. I think fondly of Genova in Jo Beverley’s Winter Fire embroidering a cloth for her nativity set, thinking fondly of her mother’s earlier version.
I’m not so sure I like women who really act out as men or independent women without consequences. What I love are stories where the heroine handles that she has some talent or interest that isn’t quite ladylike.
I loved Daphne in Loretta Chase’s Mr. Impossible, a scholar who had to hide her learning from her first husband. The set up was that she would be the brains of the operation to free her brother and the hero would be the brawn.
Violet in The Countess Conspiracy by Courtney Milan was lost when her friend and hero wouldn’t publish her controversial work on evolution under his name anymore. Milan also celebrates a suffragette in The Suffragette Scandal.
Claire in Donna MacMean’s The Whisky Laird is a prohibitionist because her father was a drunken abuser. She sees a different picture of the role alcohol plays in Scottish small village where the clan depends on the production of whiskey.
I wish I could remember a Jane Feather romance’s name. The heroine wasn’t really an independent woman really, but she was especially skilled a picquet. The hero and she gathered intelligence by playing cards.
I’ll add to the bandwagon on the feminine arts, especially since my mother is an outstanding quilter. It’s so sad that cloth is so perishable and susceptible to sun; such art only survives if it is carefully stored, meaning it cannot be used much or often. I think fondly of Genova in Jo Beverley’s Winter Fire embroidering a cloth for her nativity set, thinking fondly of her mother’s earlier version.
I’m not so sure I like women who really act out as men or independent women without consequences. What I love are stories where the heroine handles that she has some talent or interest that isn’t quite ladylike.
I loved Daphne in Loretta Chase’s Mr. Impossible, a scholar who had to hide her learning from her first husband. The set up was that she would be the brains of the operation to free her brother and the hero would be the brawn.
Violet in The Countess Conspiracy by Courtney Milan was lost when her friend and hero wouldn’t publish her controversial work on evolution under his name anymore. Milan also celebrates a suffragette in The Suffragette Scandal.
Claire in Donna MacMean’s The Whisky Laird is a prohibitionist because her father was a drunken abuser. She sees a different picture of the role alcohol plays in Scottish small village where the clan depends on the production of whiskey.
I wish I could remember a Jane Feather romance’s name. The heroine wasn’t really an independent woman really, but she was especially skilled a picquet. The hero and she gathered intelligence by playing cards.
I’ll add to the bandwagon on the feminine arts, especially since my mother is an outstanding quilter. It’s so sad that cloth is so perishable and susceptible to sun; such art only survives if it is carefully stored, meaning it cannot be used much or often. I think fondly of Genova in Jo Beverley’s Winter Fire embroidering a cloth for her nativity set, thinking fondly of her mother’s earlier version.
I’m not so sure I like women who really act out as men or independent women without consequences. What I love are stories where the heroine handles that she has some talent or interest that isn’t quite ladylike.
I loved Daphne in Loretta Chase’s Mr. Impossible, a scholar who had to hide her learning from her first husband. The set up was that she would be the brains of the operation to free her brother and the hero would be the brawn.
Violet in The Countess Conspiracy by Courtney Milan was lost when her friend and hero wouldn’t publish her controversial work on evolution under his name anymore. Milan also celebrates a suffragette in The Suffragette Scandal.
Claire in Donna MacMean’s The Whisky Laird is a prohibitionist because her father was a drunken abuser. She sees a different picture of the role alcohol plays in Scottish small village where the clan depends on the production of whiskey.
I wish I could remember a Jane Feather romance’s name. The heroine wasn’t really an independent woman really, but she was especially skilled a picquet. The hero and she gathered intelligence by playing cards.
I’ll add to the bandwagon on the feminine arts, especially since my mother is an outstanding quilter. It’s so sad that cloth is so perishable and susceptible to sun; such art only survives if it is carefully stored, meaning it cannot be used much or often. I think fondly of Genova in Jo Beverley’s Winter Fire embroidering a cloth for her nativity set, thinking fondly of her mother’s earlier version.
I’m not so sure I like women who really act out as men or independent women without consequences. What I love are stories where the heroine handles that she has some talent or interest that isn’t quite ladylike.
I loved Daphne in Loretta Chase’s Mr. Impossible, a scholar who had to hide her learning from her first husband. The set up was that she would be the brains of the operation to free her brother and the hero would be the brawn.
Violet in The Countess Conspiracy by Courtney Milan was lost when her friend and hero wouldn’t publish her controversial work on evolution under his name anymore. Milan also celebrates a suffragette in The Suffragette Scandal.
Claire in Donna MacMean’s The Whisky Laird is a prohibitionist because her father was a drunken abuser. She sees a different picture of the role alcohol plays in Scottish small village where the clan depends on the production of whiskey.
I wish I could remember a Jane Feather romance’s name. The heroine wasn’t really an independent woman really, but she was especially skilled a picquet. The hero and she gathered intelligence by playing cards.
I’ll add to the bandwagon on the feminine arts, especially since my mother is an outstanding quilter. It’s so sad that cloth is so perishable and susceptible to sun; such art only survives if it is carefully stored, meaning it cannot be used much or often. I think fondly of Genova in Jo Beverley’s Winter Fire embroidering a cloth for her nativity set, thinking fondly of her mother’s earlier version.
I’m not so sure I like women who really act out as men or independent women without consequences. What I love are stories where the heroine handles that she has some talent or interest that isn’t quite ladylike.
I loved Daphne in Loretta Chase’s Mr. Impossible, a scholar who had to hide her learning from her first husband. The set up was that she would be the brains of the operation to free her brother and the hero would be the brawn.
Violet in The Countess Conspiracy by Courtney Milan was lost when her friend and hero wouldn’t publish her controversial work on evolution under his name anymore. Milan also celebrates a suffragette in The Suffragette Scandal.
Claire in Donna MacMean’s The Whisky Laird is a prohibitionist because her father was a drunken abuser. She sees a different picture of the role alcohol plays in Scottish small village where the clan depends on the production of whiskey.
I wish I could remember a Jane Feather romance’s name. The heroine wasn’t really an independent woman really, but she was especially skilled a picquet. The hero and she gathered intelligence by playing cards.
BTW, Nicola. where did you get that hilarious Cosmo Girle cover? Funny! Is that Nell Gwynne?
As for embroidery, it is indeed a complex and challenging art form. My heroines tend not to be very good at needlecraft, mostly because I’m not, but they don’t diss it. In Sometimes a Rogue, a cranky old dowager bonded with her illegitimate granddaughter over embroidery, a talent they shared.
BTW, Nicola. where did you get that hilarious Cosmo Girle cover? Funny! Is that Nell Gwynne?
As for embroidery, it is indeed a complex and challenging art form. My heroines tend not to be very good at needlecraft, mostly because I’m not, but they don’t diss it. In Sometimes a Rogue, a cranky old dowager bonded with her illegitimate granddaughter over embroidery, a talent they shared.
BTW, Nicola. where did you get that hilarious Cosmo Girle cover? Funny! Is that Nell Gwynne?
As for embroidery, it is indeed a complex and challenging art form. My heroines tend not to be very good at needlecraft, mostly because I’m not, but they don’t diss it. In Sometimes a Rogue, a cranky old dowager bonded with her illegitimate granddaughter over embroidery, a talent they shared.
BTW, Nicola. where did you get that hilarious Cosmo Girle cover? Funny! Is that Nell Gwynne?
As for embroidery, it is indeed a complex and challenging art form. My heroines tend not to be very good at needlecraft, mostly because I’m not, but they don’t diss it. In Sometimes a Rogue, a cranky old dowager bonded with her illegitimate granddaughter over embroidery, a talent they shared.
BTW, Nicola. where did you get that hilarious Cosmo Girle cover? Funny! Is that Nell Gwynne?
As for embroidery, it is indeed a complex and challenging art form. My heroines tend not to be very good at needlecraft, mostly because I’m not, but they don’t diss it. In Sometimes a Rogue, a cranky old dowager bonded with her illegitimate granddaughter over embroidery, a talent they shared.
What did you think of the play itself, Nicola? I saw it earlier this year, and while I loved the acting and the vitality of Moll’s character that came thru, I thought making her a rocker was a bit of overkill (that electric guitar solo! Urgh!). Otherwise I felt the production portrayal was sympathetic to a woman who gender identified as a man and her frustration at daily life back then was palpable.
What did you think of the play itself, Nicola? I saw it earlier this year, and while I loved the acting and the vitality of Moll’s character that came thru, I thought making her a rocker was a bit of overkill (that electric guitar solo! Urgh!). Otherwise I felt the production portrayal was sympathetic to a woman who gender identified as a man and her frustration at daily life back then was palpable.
What did you think of the play itself, Nicola? I saw it earlier this year, and while I loved the acting and the vitality of Moll’s character that came thru, I thought making her a rocker was a bit of overkill (that electric guitar solo! Urgh!). Otherwise I felt the production portrayal was sympathetic to a woman who gender identified as a man and her frustration at daily life back then was palpable.
What did you think of the play itself, Nicola? I saw it earlier this year, and while I loved the acting and the vitality of Moll’s character that came thru, I thought making her a rocker was a bit of overkill (that electric guitar solo! Urgh!). Otherwise I felt the production portrayal was sympathetic to a woman who gender identified as a man and her frustration at daily life back then was palpable.
What did you think of the play itself, Nicola? I saw it earlier this year, and while I loved the acting and the vitality of Moll’s character that came thru, I thought making her a rocker was a bit of overkill (that electric guitar solo! Urgh!). Otherwise I felt the production portrayal was sympathetic to a woman who gender identified as a man and her frustration at daily life back then was palpable.
I loved Mr Impossible, Shannon! I do have a soft spot for bluestocking heroines who have to hide their learning from society or family disapproval. Sylvia Andrew wrote a great book with a code-breaking heroine as part of the Steepwood Scandal series.
I loved Mr Impossible, Shannon! I do have a soft spot for bluestocking heroines who have to hide their learning from society or family disapproval. Sylvia Andrew wrote a great book with a code-breaking heroine as part of the Steepwood Scandal series.
I loved Mr Impossible, Shannon! I do have a soft spot for bluestocking heroines who have to hide their learning from society or family disapproval. Sylvia Andrew wrote a great book with a code-breaking heroine as part of the Steepwood Scandal series.
I loved Mr Impossible, Shannon! I do have a soft spot for bluestocking heroines who have to hide their learning from society or family disapproval. Sylvia Andrew wrote a great book with a code-breaking heroine as part of the Steepwood Scandal series.
I loved Mr Impossible, Shannon! I do have a soft spot for bluestocking heroines who have to hide their learning from society or family disapproval. Sylvia Andrew wrote a great book with a code-breaking heroine as part of the Steepwood Scandal series.
Isn’t the Cosmo cover great, Mary Jo? I found it on a news archive website.
I think you need quite a mathematical mind as well as creativity to be good at needlework in all its forms. Love the idea of your dowager and her granddaughter bonding over embroidery!
Isn’t the Cosmo cover great, Mary Jo? I found it on a news archive website.
I think you need quite a mathematical mind as well as creativity to be good at needlework in all its forms. Love the idea of your dowager and her granddaughter bonding over embroidery!
Isn’t the Cosmo cover great, Mary Jo? I found it on a news archive website.
I think you need quite a mathematical mind as well as creativity to be good at needlework in all its forms. Love the idea of your dowager and her granddaughter bonding over embroidery!
Isn’t the Cosmo cover great, Mary Jo? I found it on a news archive website.
I think you need quite a mathematical mind as well as creativity to be good at needlework in all its forms. Love the idea of your dowager and her granddaughter bonding over embroidery!
Isn’t the Cosmo cover great, Mary Jo? I found it on a news archive website.
I think you need quite a mathematical mind as well as creativity to be good at needlework in all its forms. Love the idea of your dowager and her granddaughter bonding over embroidery!
Hi Kanch! I thought the production was tremendous and liked most of the musical bits although some were a bit too much! Moll’s charisma was riveting. I found it surprisingly sympathetic towards Moll’s character for an early 17th century play.
Hi Kanch! I thought the production was tremendous and liked most of the musical bits although some were a bit too much! Moll’s charisma was riveting. I found it surprisingly sympathetic towards Moll’s character for an early 17th century play.
Hi Kanch! I thought the production was tremendous and liked most of the musical bits although some were a bit too much! Moll’s charisma was riveting. I found it surprisingly sympathetic towards Moll’s character for an early 17th century play.
Hi Kanch! I thought the production was tremendous and liked most of the musical bits although some were a bit too much! Moll’s charisma was riveting. I found it surprisingly sympathetic towards Moll’s character for an early 17th century play.
Hi Kanch! I thought the production was tremendous and liked most of the musical bits although some were a bit too much! Moll’s charisma was riveting. I found it surprisingly sympathetic towards Moll’s character for an early 17th century play.
Don’t forget that needlework requires PATIENCE, a quality I’m sadly lacking. *G* I enjoyed the dowager and the grand daughter, who was something of a wild girl, but who turned out to be gifted with her embroidery, and she made a hat band for the heroine’s wedding. More bonding. *G*
Don’t forget that needlework requires PATIENCE, a quality I’m sadly lacking. *G* I enjoyed the dowager and the grand daughter, who was something of a wild girl, but who turned out to be gifted with her embroidery, and she made a hat band for the heroine’s wedding. More bonding. *G*
Don’t forget that needlework requires PATIENCE, a quality I’m sadly lacking. *G* I enjoyed the dowager and the grand daughter, who was something of a wild girl, but who turned out to be gifted with her embroidery, and she made a hat band for the heroine’s wedding. More bonding. *G*
Don’t forget that needlework requires PATIENCE, a quality I’m sadly lacking. *G* I enjoyed the dowager and the grand daughter, who was something of a wild girl, but who turned out to be gifted with her embroidery, and she made a hat band for the heroine’s wedding. More bonding. *G*
Don’t forget that needlework requires PATIENCE, a quality I’m sadly lacking. *G* I enjoyed the dowager and the grand daughter, who was something of a wild girl, but who turned out to be gifted with her embroidery, and she made a hat band for the heroine’s wedding. More bonding. *G*
Goose grease and Turpentine?? Shudder! That cover is hilarious.
Goose grease and Turpentine?? Shudder! That cover is hilarious.
Goose grease and Turpentine?? Shudder! That cover is hilarious.
Goose grease and Turpentine?? Shudder! That cover is hilarious.
Goose grease and Turpentine?? Shudder! That cover is hilarious.
One heroine I loved who at least pushed against the restrictions was Mary Balogh’s Lady Freyja Bedwyn. Tough cookie that one. Not lovable at first but she got better as books went by until she found her how happy ending. Even then she reappeared doing good behind the scenes in ways the belied her tough exterior.
One heroine I loved who at least pushed against the restrictions was Mary Balogh’s Lady Freyja Bedwyn. Tough cookie that one. Not lovable at first but she got better as books went by until she found her how happy ending. Even then she reappeared doing good behind the scenes in ways the belied her tough exterior.
One heroine I loved who at least pushed against the restrictions was Mary Balogh’s Lady Freyja Bedwyn. Tough cookie that one. Not lovable at first but she got better as books went by until she found her how happy ending. Even then she reappeared doing good behind the scenes in ways the belied her tough exterior.
One heroine I loved who at least pushed against the restrictions was Mary Balogh’s Lady Freyja Bedwyn. Tough cookie that one. Not lovable at first but she got better as books went by until she found her how happy ending. Even then she reappeared doing good behind the scenes in ways the belied her tough exterior.
One heroine I loved who at least pushed against the restrictions was Mary Balogh’s Lady Freyja Bedwyn. Tough cookie that one. Not lovable at first but she got better as books went by until she found her how happy ending. Even then she reappeared doing good behind the scenes in ways the belied her tough exterior.
That’s a great story, Nicola. Interesting question regarding whether she could be made sympathetic enough to be a heroine. At least Moll lived on her own terms.
That’s a great story, Nicola. Interesting question regarding whether she could be made sympathetic enough to be a heroine. At least Moll lived on her own terms.
That’s a great story, Nicola. Interesting question regarding whether she could be made sympathetic enough to be a heroine. At least Moll lived on her own terms.
That’s a great story, Nicola. Interesting question regarding whether she could be made sympathetic enough to be a heroine. At least Moll lived on her own terms.
That’s a great story, Nicola. Interesting question regarding whether she could be made sympathetic enough to be a heroine. At least Moll lived on her own terms.
I like the sound of Lady Freyja, Carol. Will check that one out. Thank you!
I like the sound of Lady Freyja, Carol. Will check that one out. Thank you!
I like the sound of Lady Freyja, Carol. Will check that one out. Thank you!
I like the sound of Lady Freyja, Carol. Will check that one out. Thank you!
I like the sound of Lady Freyja, Carol. Will check that one out. Thank you!
Thanks, Ella. I think that is always the difficulty, isn’t it – how to make a character like that realistic and sympathetic enough for the reader to engage with her. A great challenge for an author!
Thanks, Ella. I think that is always the difficulty, isn’t it – how to make a character like that realistic and sympathetic enough for the reader to engage with her. A great challenge for an author!
Thanks, Ella. I think that is always the difficulty, isn’t it – how to make a character like that realistic and sympathetic enough for the reader to engage with her. A great challenge for an author!
Thanks, Ella. I think that is always the difficulty, isn’t it – how to make a character like that realistic and sympathetic enough for the reader to engage with her. A great challenge for an author!
Thanks, Ella. I think that is always the difficulty, isn’t it – how to make a character like that realistic and sympathetic enough for the reader to engage with her. A great challenge for an author!