Sarah's Writing Den

Remember to look into my books —and tell your friends about them! These books are how I make my living, so it's very, very important to me that people support what we do by buying them and telling their friends about them.
Thank you so much!

Click here to buy Tales of Chetzemoka books.
Click here to shop Tales of Chetzemoka merchandise

"…[A] woman requires some place where she can go and pull herself together, where she can shut out the distractions of the household, where the sound of the door-bell cannot reach her… There she can take her grief and there her joys, too sacred to be submitted to other eyes. Here she can receive confidences and extend sympathy. In brief, it is a place where one can be oneself alone or in company, but where no one can enter unasked…" —Humphreys, Mary Gay. "The Feminine Den." The Woman's Book, Volume II. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons. 1894. pp. 141-142.
Get this on a poster or a card

The English word museum comes to us (via Latin) from the Greek mouseion, seat of the muses. A museum is thus quite literally a temple to the muses, a place to receive divine inspiration from the treasures of the past. This, truly, is what my den is to me, even more than any other space in our cherished home. It is here that my dearest books dwell —antique volumes holding wisdom of past ages. This is where I spend most of my time every day, writing my own books and using all our research to rebuild a world and an era, which I then populate with new friends I bring to life by my pen.

Books as Time Machines: An essay

"Fix, then, this in your mind as the guiding principal of all right and practical labor, and source of all healthful life energy—that your art is to be the praise of something that you love. It may only be the praise of a shell or a stone; it may be the praise of a hero; it may be the praise of God; your rank as a living creature is determined by the height and breadth of your love; but, be you small or great, what healthy art is possible to you must be the expression of your true delight in a real thing, better than the art."
—John Ruskin. Pearls for Young Ladies, 1878.

Manuscript pages from my Tales of Chetzemoka series.
Be sure to check out the books!
First Wheel in Town
Love Will Find A Wheel
A Rapping At The Door
Delivery Delayed
A Trip and a Tumble

For drafting manuscripts and writing in my diary, I use my mother of pearl fountain pen when I'm sitting at my desk, a pencil when I sit in my rocking chair or elsewhere.
(I don't mind dripping ink on my hands or felted desktop, but I don't want to get any on my lap or on the furniture!)

Photo courtesy Estar Hyo Gyung Choi

There are a variety of different styles of fountain pen; mine is a particularly early type which is filled with an eye-dropper instead of using cartridges or vacuuming up the ink itself.

I bought this pen with a portion of the advance from selling my first book. Mostly the money I earn from my books goes towards humdrum things like groceries, but with the very first check for one of them I felt it was important to mark a milestone in reaching my childhood dream of becoming a real writer. The pen has been a worthy investment: like so many things in our life it's practical as well as symbolic.

There have been some really interesting studies done into the effects of writing vs. typing in memory as well as production:

"Recall mode and recency in immediate serial recall: Computer users beware!" Catherine G. Penney and Penny Ann Blackwood Bulletin of the Psychonomic Society 1989, 27 (6) 545-547.

"Performance amplification and process restructuring in computer-based writing" by Ronald T. Kellogg and Suzanne Mueller International Journal of Man-Machine Studies. 1993. pp. 33-49.

"Influence of Typing Skill on Pause-Execution Cycles in Written Composition." Rui Alexandre Alves, Sao Luis Castro, Liliana de Sousa and Sven Stromqvist. Writing and Cognition: Research and Application (Studies in Writing. Vol. 20, pp. 55-65). Amsterdam: Elsevier.

"A Learning Secret: Don't Take Notes with a Laptop" Cindi May. Scientific American. June 3, 2014. Permanent Address: http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/a-learning-secret-don-t-take-notes-with-a-laptop/

When I take notes on texts in antique books or volumes which are otherwise irreplaceable, I use a pencil to avoid the possibility of getting ink on the pages.

I also use a pencil for taking notes and jotting down my thoughts when I'm out and about.

“The greatest part of a writer’s time is spent in reading, in order to write; a man will turn over half a library to make one book.”
—Samuel Johnson

Combination desk and bookshelf, Eastlake style, late 19th-century.
Fans of my Tales of Chetzemoka series may recognize this as the desk which Silas and McCoy tell Jacob he needs to start locking!

"Books are as much a part of a home as pictures or furniture or carpets." —Houghton, Walter R. American Etiquette and Rules of Politeness. 1889, p. 50.

Some of our favorite primary sources can be seen on this page: Research materials

Many of our favorite antique volumes reside in my den for easy access while I'm writing.

"Books and desk are essentials, "meat and drink," and wherever most convenient for use, would be best." —"Queries," Table Talk, November, 1883, p. 390.

My desk is an heirloom from Gabriel's grandmother.

"...My writing desk is what the British would call a bureau: the lower portion consists of three broad drawers like a dresser, and these support a slanted top that folds down to provide support for the writing materials. Behind this movable slanted portion are seven little drawers, only two-and-a-half inches deep: three each are stacked vertically on the left and right and a broader but equally shallow drawer is situated between these..."
--This Victorian Life, p. 137.

Where to read (Victorian transforming sofa)

Wall-mounted sconce for a small oil lamp, late 19th-century.

Carved detail on chair

Chair, late 19th-century

Rocking Chair: Eastlake-style glider rocker, circa 1890s.

"…I came across my neighbor’s yard sale on a gray October day. In all that time, I had visited more antiques stores than I could venture to count and seen a grand total of three 1890s spring-mounted rockers. As Gabriel had said, they don’t come up very often. Suddenly though, outside in the open air, I was seeing a fourth.
The Chair of Ultimate Comfort! I approached it tentatively, in a sort of awed reverence. Overhead, the clouds grew thicker. I cast a cautious look upward. It must not rain on THAT chair! I told myself, horrified at the very thought. I wonder—Do you suppose they’d mind—if, if I just sat in it, very gently, for just a minute?
It was early in the day, and there weren’t many people at the sale yet. I looked around and then, tentatively, gingerly, perched on the edge of The Glorious Chair. Silently, I sighed with happiness. I let my eyes close halfway and smiled.
“Found your chair?” A friendly voice broke into my reverie.
I jumped up, embarrassed as a cat found with her mouth full of feathers. Me? I? Er, nothing to see here . . . “I, uh—” I stammered awkwardly. “It’s a really nice chair.” I looked down at the velvet plush and at the Eastlake carvings that matched our other furniture with an uncanny exactitude, as if they’d all been an original set together. I thought of our bank account for the household budget, and a question pressed at my mind I was afraid to ask. “How much—” I began quietly, dubious but unable to resist. “How much do you think you’d want for it?”
The man—incredibly—quoted me a slightly lower price than I’d told Gabriel I would be willing to pay for an inferior rocker.
My eyes grew wide. I blinked. My jaw dropped. I forced it shut again, then swallowed the toad-sized lump that had suddenly appeared in my throat. I ripped open my purse and gave the man all my milk money. “Can you please take this as a down payment and hold it for me just ten minutes while I run to the bank? I’ll be right back!”
While the man laughed at my enthusiasm and promised to hold the chair, I set off on a full-out sprint, petticoats flying. I’m not naturally a fast runner, but on this occasion I sent so much wind through my hair that I nearly lost my hat.
I arrived back at the yard sale out of breath and terrified that someone else would have snatched up the rocker with a more lucrative offer in my absence. When I saw that it was still there, I could have danced for joy. I paid the man, then hugged close my Glorious Chair and lifted it to carry it home.
I am five feet, nine inches tall. The Chair is three-foot-three. I don’t care to disclose my own broadest dimension, but I will say that The Chair takes up a significantly larger ground space than I do. It has an approximately two-and-a- half foot by two-and-a-half-foot square footprint. Also, being set on springs on a wooden base, it has a perpetually shifting center of gravity while in motion. I wouldn’t exactly call it easy to carry. Luckily, it doesn’t weigh much (less than forty pounds) and I wasn’t going far.
“Do you want help loading that?” someone behind me asked.
“Hmm?” I asked dreamily, half-drunk on the glory of my Chair. “Oh, no. I’m not loading it into any vehicle. I’m just carrying it home. I only live at the top of the hill, about five blocks that way—” I pointed in the direction of my house, which was slightly out of sight.
Some incredulity was expressed at the idea of carrying any furniture that far, but I simply laughed and had a merry walk home, clutching my beautiful (and somewhat large) Chair…" --This Victorian Life, Skyhorse Publishing, 2015.

History of the room:

All the rooms in our house were painted bare white when we moved in. The first renovating task we undertook was the room which would ultimately become my writing den. When the Bracken siblings lived here in the 1890's, we think was probably Tillie's room. It would have given her some privacy from her brothers (who were probably a rowdy bunch, given that two were athletes and one ultimately joined the military), and also been most convenient to the kitchen, since she probably cooked breakfast and other meals for the family.

Pressed-tin wainscotting: Pressed tin was popularized by the Hygenic Movement (the people who brought you the white bathroom.) It was easier to clean and sterilize than traditional wooden wainscotting. The pressed tin we used was mail-ordered from a company in Texas (The Tinman, which has the charming motto, "The company with a heart".) We installed it ourselves (Gabriel cutting it to size and nailing it in place, suffering rather alot of gashes in the process until I convinced him to put his leather work-gloves on.) I sanded, primed, and painted it.

Wallpaper: The pattern is an exact replica of a wallpaper pattern from 1893. The pattern is called "Imperial Artichoke."

Other rooms in our house:
Bedroom
Kitchen / Dining room
Parlor

Back to Everyday Life

My books!
Buying these books and telling your friends about them is the very best way to support what we do and help us keep doing it.
Thank you!

In a seaport town in the late 19th-century Pacific Northwest, a group of friends find themselves drawn together —by chance, by love, and by the marvelous changes their world is undergoing. In the process, they learn that the family we choose can be just as important as the ones we're born into. Join their adventures in

The Tales of Chetzemoka

Buy the book
Learn more

First Wheel in Town:
A Victorian Cycling Club Romance
In the summer of 1881, a Pacific Northwest town is buzzing with curiosity over a mysterious package received by handsome young Dr. Brown. Kitty Butler, the town dressmaker, is as curious as anyone else. She only knows one thing about that crate in the post office: everyone else's guesses about its contents are all wrong.

When Dr. Brown unpacks the crate and reveals the first bicycle the town has ever seen, he wants to share his enthusiasm for this revolutionary new piece of technology —but encounters overwhelming hostility instead of the excitement he'd expected. The only one who seems positively interested is the pretty young widow Kitty Butler, and Dr. Brown soon realizes how much he needs her support…

Buy the book
Learn more

Love Will Find A Wheel:
A Victorian Cycling Club Romance

  "I'm sure he'll be glad you're here —once he gets used to it."
            When Jacob Simmons arrives in Washington Territory in the summer of 1882 and receives a glacial reception from his uncle Silas, he appreciates Dr. Brown's encouraging prediction but doesn't have much faith in it. Jacob's not even sure Silas will have time to get used to his presence, let alone consider him welcome. If the young man can't meet the draconian requirements of a contract with his business investors, he'll face exile and financial ruin, thus fulfilling old Silas' prediction that he would be just as dismal a failure as his father. His whole future rests on finding a market for a remarkable new machine —and he'll need help selling them.
***
            Addie Kellam is an incredibly lonely young woman. She's more comfortable with books than with other people, yet she longs for the sort of romance she reads about in stories. It's something she fears she'll never experience herself, since even friendship seems elusive. She envies the cameraderie her brother finds in his cycling club, but the only bicycles in the town of Chetzemoka are specifically designed for men. There aren't any wheels for women anywhere —are there?

Buy the book
Learn more

A Rapping At The Door:
A Victorian Cycling Club Suspense Story

When the delivery of a mysterious letter to Silas Hayes' mansion is followed by the arrival of a beautiful young woman who claims she can communicate with the dead, Nurse McCoy sniffs trouble in the wind. It's obvious to her that the newcomer is after Silas' fortune, but he is helplessly in awe of the medium's eerily intimate knowledge of his past and her seemingly supernatural abilities. Meanwhile, Kitty Brown's yearning to reach out to the departed spirit of her first love is making her push away her new husband, just when she needs him the most. The whole situation is a dreadful mess, and McCoy's got to straighten it all out before Silas' nephew and his bride come back from their honeymoon. Honestly, she doesn't know how any of the fools in this world would get along without her…

Buy the book
Learn more

Delivery Delayed:
A Victorian Cycling Club Romance
It's obvious to everyone in the Chetzemoka cycling club that Lizzie and Isaac could make each other very happy —but does anyone really listen to their friends about affairs of the heart? A prim schoolmarm and a stoic steamship captain are hardly the people to discuss their sentiments, especially with each other. The smallest challenges seem like huge obstacles, even with everyone else trying their best to bring them together. When progress finally seems possible, a well-intentioned little girl steps in with the kind of help they'd be better off without. Will the situation be resolved in time, or will Isaac ship out for good?

Buy the Book
Learn More

A Trip and a Tumble:
A Victorian Cycling Club Story

Time for a vacation —step right up! When Felix's newspaper sends him up to Victoria, B.C. to report on a visiting circus Ken inevitably tags along, "like a dutiful puppy", as Addie says. Meanwhile, Jacob's sent north to Victoria as well, as an ambassador for the cycling company he represents. Addie tells him to keep an eye on the chums, but no one ever could keep Ken and Felix from stumbling into scrapes. When a vivacious high-society belle and a surprisingly timid circus bicyclist enter the picture, things heat up quickly.
Be prepared for a grand circus pageant —let the show begin!

***
Anthologies

Love's Messenger
A Choice Collection of
Victorian Love Poetry
The verses embraced within these pages have been kissed awake after a long slumber. Copied from the fragile pages of nineteenth-century books and magazines, they are the whispers of lovers long entranced. In this beautifully diverse collection of Victorian love poetry high-born ladies and their eloquent beaux keep company with simple maids whose sweethearts pledge their love in simpler —and often much funnier— terms. Prepare for your happy sighs to be joined by occasional giggles while you hold this book close to your heart.

Compiled, edited and introduced by Sarah A. Chrisman, author of the charming Tales of Chetzemoka historical fiction series, This Victorian Life, Victorian Secrets, and others.

Quotations of Quality
A Commonplace Book of Victorian Advice, Wit, and Observations on Life

Eloquent statements are like the seeds of beautiful flowers: in the fertile garden of the mind they grow and blossom into inspiration, reflection, and rewarding conversations. The Victorian era was a time when people expressed themselves skillfully and beautifully, and the writings of that age are a rich legacy from the past. This little volume is a collection of sentiments on an array of subjects, among them:

Books: "A minute's reading often provokes a day's thinking." —W.H. Venable, 1872. "Books are those faithful mirrors that reflect to our minds the minds of sages and heroes. A good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit treasured up on a purpose for a life beyond." —J.F. Spaunhurst, 1896.
Writing: "Every new book must have, in the consciousness of its author, a private history that, like the mysteries of romance, would if unfolded have an interest for the reader, and by unveiling the inner life of the volume show its character and tendencies." —Sarah Josepha Hale, 1866.
Language: "The [Ancient] Greeks said that barbarians did not speak, they twittered." —Charles DeKay, 1898.
The Sexes: "It is better for men, it is better for women, that each somewhat idealize the other." —Gail Hamilton, 1872.
Love: "True love is that which ennobles the personality, fortifies the heart, and sanctifies the existence. And the being we love must not be mysterious and sphinx-like, but clear and limpid as a diamond; so that admiration and attachment may grow with knowledge." —Henry Frédéric Amiel, 1880.
Optimism: "Refuse to dwell among shadows when there is so much sunshine in the world." —Hester M. Poole, 1888.
History: "The past is our wisest and best instructor. In its dim and shadowy outlines we may, if we will, discern in some measure those elements of wisdom which should guide the present and secure the welfare of the future." —Frederick Douglass, 1889.
Work: "Make the most of your brain and your eyes, and let no one dare tell you that you are devoting yourself to a low sphere of action." —Anonymous, late 19th-century

Keep this book in a place where its wisdom can refresh your spare moments, or buy a copy for a friend to brighten their day. May the flowers of thought thus planted bear rich fruit for you.

Compiled and edited by Sarah A. Chrisman, author of The Tales of Chetzemoka, This Victorian Life, and others.

The Wheelman's Joy
Victorian Cycling Poetry and Words About Wheels
There is something inherently romantic about cycling, and there has been since the first riders set their wheels to the road. This collection of nineteenth-century poetry, prose quotes and bon-mots about cycling reflects both the ardent passion and the innocent affection cycling inspires. From the glory days of high-wheel cycling through the boom of the safety bicycle, riders were falling in love with their wheels, with new-found freedoms, and above all with each other. This delightful little collection tells of those days in their own words, and evokes sentiments which every cyclist will find timeless. Compiled edited and introduced by Sarah A. Chrisman, author of the charming Tales of Chetzemoka cycling club series, This Victorian Life, Victorian Secrets, and others.

Words For Parting
Victorian Poetry on Death and Mourning
Love and grief and the two most private, and at the same time the most universal of all human emotions. It is for love that we remember the dead: love of their spirits, love of their vibrancy, love of the good deeds which they did and which live on after them. The poems in this collection were all written by grieving hearts who have now themselves passed over into that great mystery. We can not truly know what death is, yet we know it will come to all of us. In ancient times when a friend told the philosopher Socrates that his judges had sentenced him to death he responded, "And has not Nature passed the same sentence on them?"
Inasmuch as there can ever be any comfort for those left behind, part of it lies in knowing that death is a reflection of life. When it comes we cry, then we take our first faltering steps towards understanding. In time we become accustomed to this manifold enigma which nature has given us, and then ultimately we look towards the future with hope.
If this little book of poems may be of some help to those in sorrow by reminding them they are not alone, then it will have done its work.

Compiled and edited by Sarah A. Chrisman, author of the Tales of Chetzemoka series, This Victorian Life, and others.

A Bouquet of Victorian Roses

"What flower did she most resemble?… A rose! Certainly… strong, vigorous, self-asserting… yet shapely, perfect in outline and development, exquisite, enchanting in its never fully realized tints, yet compelling the admiration of every one, and recalling its admirers again and again by the unspoken appeal of its own perfection—its unvarying radiance." —John Habberton, 1876.
All hail the Queen of Flowers! In this collection of Victorian writings on roses, brief prose remarks, lovely poetry and engaging short stories are gathered together —all with nature's most perfect blossom as their central theme. From poetry on the fragrant beauty of roses, to tales ranging from a ghost story about roses as omens to a romance of love among the roses, this collection will delight anyone who dreams of being surrounded by roses. A perfect gift for weddings, birthdays… or your own sunny afternoon!
Compiled and edited by Sarah A. Chrisman, author of the Tales of Chetzemoka series and others.

Victorian Secrets
(Non-fiction)

A few articles by me:

Books As Time Machines

Costumes vs. Clothing: An excerpt from Victorian Secrets:
http://www.thisvictorianlife.com/costume-vs-clothing.html

Curating history:
http://www.thisvictorianlife.com/blog/curating-history

The difference between digitization and preservation:
http://www.thisvictorianlife.com/blog/digitization-does-not-equal-preservation

Daily Challenges:
http://www.thisvictorianlife.com/blog/-daily-challenges-perverts-at-purple-haze-fire-to-temper-steel

Everyday Life As A Learning Experience:
www.commonlit.org/texts/everyday-life-as-a-learning-experience

Getting Intimate With History:
https://vintorian.blogspot.ca/2015/12/getting-intimate-with-history-lessons.html

What Millenial Women Can Learn From Victorian Ladies:
http://www.refinery29.com/victorian-living-millennial-women

I would be honored if you would put my name in the suggestion box of your local bookstore or library, and ask your friends to do the same! Please ask them to sponsor a presentation / signing, or to choose one of my books as a Community Reads project.
Thank you for your support!

***
For words of wit and advice sage,
I hope you'll like my author page!
History lessons, folks who dare,
Please do share it while you're there!

YouTube.com/@Victorianlady

Search this website:

***