Summer Days and Nights

Summer Days and Nights

Summer by Christina Rossetti

Copyright DM Denton

Winter is cold-hearted,
Spring is yea and nay,
Autumn is a weathercock
Blown every way:
Summer days for me
When every leaf is on its tree;

When Robin’s not a beggar,
And Jenny Wren’s a bride,
And larks hang singing, singing, singing,

Copyright DM Denton

Over the wheat-fields wide,
And anchored lilies ride,
And the pendulum spider
Swings from side to side,

And blue-black beetles transact business,
And gnats fly in a host,
And furry caterpillars hasten
That no time be lost,

Copyright DM Denton

And moths grow fat and thrive,
And ladybirds arrive.

Before green apples blush,
Before green nuts embrown,
Why, one day in the country
Is worth a month in town;
Is worth a day and a year
Of the dusty, musty, lag-last fashion
That days drone elsewhere.

Copyright DM Denton

 

 

 

 

Christina Rossetti, Victorian poetess, sister of the Pre-Raphaelite artist and poet, Dante Gabrielle Rossetti, and the subject of my current work-in-progress novel, The Dove Upon Her Branch, grew up and resided most of her life in London. Her visits into the country were as angels’ visits, ‘few and far between’, but when there, how much she noted of flower and tree, bird and beast*. It wasn’t the wide vistas that drew her attention, but, as the poem above sublimely illustrates, she had a distinct awareness and appreciation of the ‘little things’ in the natural world.

Copyright DM Denton

As a child, up until the age of nine, her grandfather Polidori’s home in Holmer Green, Buckinghamshire, was her escape from urban life.

Later in her life, Christina wrote:
If one thing schooled me in the direction of poetry it was perhaps the delightful liberty to prowl all alone about my grandfather’s cottage grounds some thirty miles from London, entailing in my childhood a long stage-coach journey. The grounds were quite small, and on the simplest scale, but to me they were vast, varied, and well worth exploring.

*Quote in my research notes, but I couldn’t find the source in time for making this post.

 

From the 1st draft of The Dove Upon Her Branch:

Holmer Green was where Christina first studied a rosebud slowly swelling with dew. In sunshine and rain, she waited with patience no one thought she had, to see it become a perfect flower and then to wither. Even as young as six or seven, whether by being willful and wily, the negligence of Maria, Gabriel, or William distracted by their own inclinations, or her grandfather falling asleep in the rocking chair he was so proud of making, she took advantage of a chance—so rare in London crowded with siblings and strangers and confined by walls and human wilderness—to be on her own. As far as she was concerned, such liberty only put her in danger of discovering what might be missed if she followed rather than explored, especially the smallest things that were more precious for often being overlooked. Beetles, caterpillars, snails, and worms were often in her hands, gently examined and eventually returned to the grass, branch, or leaf she had lifted each from. William told her spiders were fragile and could perish with the gentlest touch, so she merely watched them dangle, move up and down by a thread, or weave their magic that sparkled, swayed, and survived beyond belief. When an impulsive poke caused a frog to cover his head with his feet, she tried a soft stroke, which persuaded it to show her its eyes.
Copyright © 2019 by DM Denton

Copyright DM Denton

The summer nights are short 
Where northern days are long: 
For hours and hours lark after lark 
Trills out his song. 
The summer days are short 
Where southern nights are long: 
Yet short the night when nightingales 
Trill out their song. 

Christina Georgina Rossetti

Wishing everyone a safe, serene,
and very special summer!

 

donatellawquillunshaded©Artwork and writing, unless otherwise indicated, are the property of Diane M Denton. Please request permission to reproduce or post elsewhere with a link back to bardessdmdenton. Thank you.

Impending Birth and Remembering a Death

Getting close to the release,
by my wonderful publishers
All Things That Matter Press,
of my new novel

Without the Veil Between
Anne Brontë: A Fine and Subtle Spirit

Cover and Interior Illustrations by DM Denton

Still time to add your name to my email list
for notification of the novel’s release
and a chance to win a signed copy!

On this day, October 29th, in 1842, Elizabeth Branwell, aunt to Charlotte, Branwell, Emily, and Anne Brontë, died.

In the summer of 1821, unmarried at the age of 45, she traveled to Haworth from her native Penzance to be by the side of her dying sister, Maria, wife of the Reverend Patrick Brontë and mother to his six children. After Maria Bronte’s death in September 1821, Elizabeth Branwell stayed on to temporarily help with the care of the Brontë brood, which then included older sisters Maria and Elizabeth who would also die within a few years. When it seemed her brother-in-law was unlikely to remarry, Aunt Elizabeth Branwell took on the permanent role of surrogate mother to the Brontë children. Although it meant enduring the often harsh conditions and seclusion of West Yorkshire, she choose duty, from, I believe, what was a great love for her nieces and nephew, over an easier life in a milder climate, pleasant society, and the familiarity of her native Cornwall.

Aunt Elizabeth was the only “mother” Anne could remember, as a child sharing a bed with her and greatly influenced by her piety, stoicism and sacrifice.

Charlotte and Emily were at school in Brussels at the time of their aunt’s death. Anne, who was governess at Thorpe Green near York, made it home shortly after her funeral. Branwell was the only one of the Brontë children who was with her through her brief but horrible demise from a constriction of the bowel. After her death, he wrote to a friend, ‘I am incoherent, I fear, but I have been waking two nights witnessing such agonizing suffering as I would not wish my worst enemy to endure; and I have now lost the guide and director of all the happy days connected with my childhood.’

Here is an excerpt from Without the Veil Between, set the Christmas after Aunt Elizabeth Branwell’s death:

Death had intruded on them all, but Branwell and their father had spent the most time with it and were physically and emotionally wearied by its visit not once but twice in a little over two months. Anne and her sisters weren’t spared its ruthlessness, although with the loss of her aunt, Anne found some relief, not from grief but the concealment of it.

“However did we all fit in this room?” Charlotte prompted Anne to find courage, even a little delight, in remembering.

“We pushed up the side table, didn’t we?”

“Yes, I believe so. And Branny straddled its pedestal, could hardly eat for its wobbling, and sweated as he was so close to the fire.”

Their brother didn’t look up, his plate as full as it was half an hour before.
“Aunt hated when we teased him,” Charlotte continued to talk about her brother as though he wasn’t there, knowing how to both irritate and indulge him. “She doted on him more than she did you, Anne.”

“She knew his weaknesses,” Reverend Brontë immediately clarified, “but at the end his devotion.”

Branwell spoke softly with his hand over his mouth.

His father reached across the table to pull it down. “Say again.”

“I don’t think so. How could she? Her suffering, such pain as I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”

“She’s not suffering now, my boy.”

“Just regretting.”

Anne, who was sitting next to him, stroked his hand crumbling a piece of bread.

“Oh, I think she’s comfortably settled on her heavenly throne thinking she did her best and we’re no longer her problem.” Charlotte wasn’t eating much either.

“Not how she wasted her life on us?”

“Well, you must let such a question influence your own choices, Son,” Reverend Brontë spoke without a hint of guilt in any reference to his wife’s sister, who had saved him from foolishly continuing his search for a second wife and his children from being motherless, although not any of them from being sinless.

Copyright 2017 by DM Denton

Silhouette of a Young Aunt Elizabeth Branwell

©Artwork and writing, unless otherwise indicated, are the property of Diane M Denton. Please request permission to reproduce or post elsewhere with a link back to bardessdmdenton. Thank you.

 

Saturday Historical Novelist Interview with DM Denton

I want to thank Christoph Fischer for interviewing me on his blog today. He offered some excellent questions, which made it fun and satisfying to do. Christoph is a fine author himself, and such a generous supporter of other writers. His blog features interviews, reviews, and other articles about his own work and passions, too. Hope you will go over and have a look.

writerchristophfischer

DM Denton Profile Pic 1Today I have the pleasure of introducing Historical Novelist DM Denton. Welcome to my blog, please tell us about your writing history. When was the first time you decided to write and the first time you did?

I recall that as a child loving to read I also knew I wanted to write. Initially, it was an escape for me like reading was and a perfect pursuit for my introverted personality. My mother talks of my first poem, when I was seven or eight, in response to the family being together at Thanksgiving. I’m sure it wasn’t the first, the others probably well-hidden or destroyed. Actually, I can’t remember not writing—closed boxes and folders of yellowing, curling paper and hopeful half-filled journals can attest to that. All through my growing up I preferred alone time imagining characters and stories to any other activity.

Tell us about the concepts behind your…

View original post 1,634 more words

Historical Fiction & Meaning with DM (Diane) Denton

Thank you to Stephanie Hopkins for hosting me on Layered Pages and allowing me to take part in her Historical Fiction and Meaning series! It certainly challenged me to be more conscious about writing in this genre. I hope you will read the entire interview, which will only take five minutes or so. As always, I am grateful for those who visit here and hope I offer posts for your enjoyment, but also give you something to think about, and, perhaps, open up new vistas for your reading and reflection.

Here’s an excerpt:

Why Historical Fiction?

In hindsight, my journey towards writing historical fiction began in my early teens when I developed an insatiable appetite for classic literature, period films and plays, and Renaissance, Baroque, Classical, and traditional music. I’ve long had a fascination with the clothes, customs, social and political issues of the past, and I’m attracted to the lives of writers, artists, musicians, intellectuals, and innovators, but, also, ‘ordinary’ folk like gardeners and domestics. All in all, it’s more comfortable for me to write within a historical context; I feel I can reveal myself and still remain hidden. I can indulge my old-fashioned sensibilities yet still oblige my progressive tendencies, because history isn’t static, somewhere dead in time, but a life force for the present and future.

Marriage Brokering 17th Century Style

Why would a talented up-and-coming composer, patronized by a Queen and other highly placed individuals, engage in marriage brokering?

To find out “Ms Stuart Requests … the pleasure of your company” – and so do I – at my guest post on “history with a heart” author Alison Stuart’s lovely blog.

This image from Hogarth’s A Rake’s Progress is a little teaser …

Marriage Image - from William Hogarth's A Rake's Progress

And here’s another: Marriage broker – someone who arranges (or tries to arrange) marriages for others, usually between strangers and for a fee.

To see what Alessandro Stradella was up to

a ‘few’ years before A House Near Luccoli

please read on …

Alison and I thank you for the pleasure of your company!

And while you’re over there, please check out
Alison’s novels on her Bookshelf Page

 

 

Modest or Unmannerly, Which Instrument Shall She Play? Guest Post

Thank you to Alison Stuart and all at Hoydens and Firebrands – “Roaring Ladies Who Write About The Seventeenth Century” – for hosting me on their fascinating blog!

Hoyden is a boisterous girl.

Firebrand is a person who is passionate about a particular cause, typically inciting change and taking radical action.

Modest or Unmannerly, Which Instrument Shall She Play? by DM Denton

Music was such an integral part of 17th century life and Hoydens and Firebrands are delighted to welcome DM Denton with a fascinating post on women and music in the seventeenth century. Diane is the author of two books set in the 17th century in which the central protagonists are musicians.  

Woman playing viol par traverso_pe_pe

In the 17th century a refined young woman might want and even be encouraged to cultivate her musical ability and prove some accomplishment through singing and accompanying herself instrumentally—as recreation not occupation, of course. Considering her need to impress a suitor, show her figure off in the best possible way, express the sweetest tones of her personality and gentle capability of her character, which instrument should she play?

I graciously encourage you to read on ….

Copyright 2012 by DM Denton

Copyright 2012 by DM Denton

donatellasmallest©Artwork and writing, unless otherwise indicated, are the property of Diane M Denton. Please request permission to reproduce or post elsewhere with a link back tobardessdmdenton. Thank you.

Book Release Day of To A Strange Somewhere Fled

Reading a book is like re-writing it for yourself. You bring to a novel, anything you read, all your experience of the world. You bring your history and you read it in your own terms. ~ Angela Carter (1940 – 1992, English novelist and journalist)

I must express my appreciation to the readers of A House Near Luccoli who believed in my interpretation of the inimitable 17th century composer Alessandro Stradella, his world, music, associates, and the place of a fictional character like Donatella in a crucial part of his story. You encouraged me to continue with the sequel I had begun before A House Near Luccoli’s publication in 2012.

Thank you to Deborah Bennison of Bennison Books, and authors Mary Clark and Steve Lindahl for their time and interest in reading and reviewing To A Strange Somewhere Fled before its publication (their reviews are included in the book).

And to my excellent editor Deb Harris who along with Phil Harris, form my very special publisher All Things That Matter Press and have been so generous with their expertise and faith in my literary worth.

And, once again and forever, I must express my heartfelt gratitude to my mom June who has always practically, honestly and lovingly supported my writing aspirations.

The celebration is two fold,
as today is my lovely mom’s birthday!

All Things That Matter Release Announcement

To A Strange Somewhere Fled

NEW RELEASE!

Authored by DM Denton

After the sudden end to her collaboration with composer Alessandro Stradella,
Donatella moves from Genoa to join her parents in a small village in Oxfordshire, England.

The gift of a sonnet, ‘stolen’ music, inexpressible secrets, and an irrepressible spirit have stowed away on her journey.

Haunted by whispers and visions, angels and demons, will she rise out of grief and aimlessness? Her father’s friendship with the residents of Wroxton Abbey, who are
important figures in the court of Charles II, offers new possibilities, especially as music and its masters ~ including the ‘divine’ Henry Purcell ~ have not finished with her yet.

About the author:
Writer and artist D.M. (Diane) Denton, a native of Western New York, is inspired by music, art, nature, and the contradictions of the human and creative spirit. Through observation and study, truth and imagination, she loves to wander into the past to discover stories of interest and meaning for the present, writing from her love of language, the nuances of story-telling, and the belief that what is left unsaid is the most affecting of all.

Her educational journey took her to a dream-fulfilling semester at Wroxton College, England, and she remained in the UK for sixteen years surrounded by the quaint villages, beautiful hills, woods and fields of the Oxfordshire countryside, and all kinds of colorful characters. This turned out to be a life-changing experience that continues to resonate in her life to this day.

She returned to the US and Western New York in 1990, and has since resided in a cozy log cabin with her mother and a multitude of cats. Her day jobs have been in retail, manufacturing, media and career consulting, and as a volunteer coordinator for Western New York Public Broadcasting. She is currently secretary for the Zoning and Codes administration in the town where she lives. In addition to writing, music and art, she is passionate about nurturing nature and a consciousness for a more compassionate, inclusive and peaceful world.

Please visit her website, http://www.dmdenton-author-artist.com, and blog,https://bardessdmdenton.wordpress.com where you can contact her. Also, find her on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, LinkedIn, Pinterest and Google Plus.

BUY NOWhttp://www.amazon.com/Strange-Somewhere-Fled-DM-Denton/dp/0990715868/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1425986827&sr=1-1&keywords=to+a+strange+somewhere+fled

The Novel is now available in Print and Kindle Editions from amazon.com and amazon.co.uk. I’ve noticed that the Paperback and Kindle editions are still listed on separate pages – I guess it takes a while for amazon to merge all the formats onto one page.

It may take a little longer for its availability on amazon.com throughout Europe and as a NOOK Book at barnesandnoble.com.

Goodreads Giveaway!

I’m giving away one signed copy of my novel, A House Near Luccoli, which is actually two in one! Whoever wins this *giveaway will also be sent a signed copy of the sequel, To A Strange Somewhere, on its release early in 2015. Good luck!

Goodreads Book Giveaway

A House Near Luccoli by D.M. Denton

A House Near Luccoli

by D.M. Denton

Giveaway ends December 31, 2014.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

*This Giveaway is open to Goodreads members in the US, Canada, UK, Ireland, Isle of Man, The Netherlands, Italy, and South Africa.

Review by Barbara Rogers, By the Sea

“She might have found comfort in making the most of it, like her cats sharing the day’s last sunlight, one small splash from the sea’s horizon to the edge of the carpet’s shore.”

A House Near Luccoli is full of such lovely and lyrical prose, which gently transports the reader to 17th century Genoa, Italy. Taking in the author’s wonderful words, one can almost smell the gardens and sachets, taste the food and wine, feel the summer heat, see the musical notes being carefully transcribed, the sunshine glittering on the ocean, and hear the exquisite music. About a year ago we went to a concert, The Passion of the Italian Baroque, at the Amherst Early Music Festival, and heard beautiful performances with various combinations of the viol, violin, violone, recorder, flute, two oboes, cello, and three harpsichords. And a soprano sang along on a couple of pieces. Memories of the sound of that baroque music made reading the story of the colorful composer Alessandro Stradella and the restless Donatella all the more vivid in my mind.

Read more reviews here.

 Hope all are having a gentle and productive December so far.

Review of ‘Covenant, A Story of Friendship’ by Mary Clark

5.0 out of 5 stars

A Story in the Moment of Fundamental Change by DM Denton

51qEtH4PMAL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-v3-big,TopRight,0,-55_SX324_SY324_PIkin4,BottomRight,1,22_AA346_SH20_OU01_Covenant. An agreement between parties that is binding like a contract. It’s one of the metaphors used in the Christian and Jewish traditions regarding God’s relationship with and expectation of humankind. In a secular sense it can suggest a collective upholding of certain principals and beliefs—a ritual, even religious pledge and expectation of allegiance to a common, even exalted purpose.

In the bible, Covenant and Testament are used interchangeably. Mary Clark’s Covenant is a testament to how relationships form, flourish, are tested, fall apart, and, if they run deep enough, endure.

As the lives of three youths growing up in the 1950’s and 60’s on Florida’s Gulf Coast intersect, promises are made sub-consciously, at times devoutly. Commonality occurs because of being a certain age in a particular time and place, of sharing amusements, music, uncertainty and wonder, loss and discovery. Loyalty is the maturing of friendship seeded in companionship, threatened by struggle and change, and nurtured by empathy and necessity. Mary Clark’s nostalgic and sensitive offering of their story starts small, out of the inconspicuous, but grows larger and larger in its awareness of the world around them, paralleling very personal events with those that affect their country and the world. These were times I lived through—the civil rights movement, the cold war, JFK’s assassination—and, so, reminded me of how as a child my actual and imaginative life was affected by the decisions and actions of adults. Not always negatively, as one particular scene highlights. When Orchie sees a white man hit a black man who has walked onto a segregated beach and the white man is arrested, she experiences “…the thrill of being in the moment of fundamental change.” I can remember that feeling so well.

The story of Orchie, Red and Bobby is soothing and stark, amusing and disquieting, individualistic and altruistic as it reflects through hours, days, months and years. Mary Clark’s writing is eloquent, even as she ‘speaks’ of poverty and violence, devastation and betrayal. It is word-rich with beautiful sensory descriptions that set the scenes—the woods, the swamps, the beaches, the small town— where the young people spend their time; a blend of raw reality and dreaminess that moves the narrative beyond the simple alliance of children to an agreement that requires them to look into their consciences and hearts.

Read review on Goodreads.

Read review on Amazon.

Covenant is available in Kindle edition.

Visit Mary Clark’s Amazon Page.

Visit Mary Clark’s Blog

Read my review of Tally: An Intuitive Life by Mary Clark, published by All Things That Matter Press. Highly Recommended!

 

Looking Out and Looking In

I must apologize for another self-promotion, but it has been in the cards this month, I guess.

Matthew Peters, a wonderful writer, whose novel, Conversations Among Ruins, will be published by All Things That Matter Press this year, did an interview with me about my writing.

My Interview with Diane Denton

Please welcome DIANE DENTON, AKA D.M. DENTON, author of

A HOUSE NEAR LUCCOLI

Tell us a bit about yourself:

I grew up in Western New York and have been writing, drawing and painting, since I was a child. I’ve always been most content in my imagination. From my teens I was obsessed with English literature and drama, began to dream and then plan to get to the UK. I made no secret of feeling something or someone would keep me there. The opportunity to cross the Atlantic came in my junior year of college and I spent the spring semester of 1974 at Wroxton College in Oxfordshire, a 13th century Augustinian Priory turned Jacobean Manor on extensive grounds and part of a picture-postcard village by the same name. And, yes, I did end up living in England (in that same village)—for the next sixteen years, an experience that enriched and frustrated me, but which I’m so glad I had. I returned to the US in 1990 to a lovely rural area of Western New York where I live in a log cabin with my mom and five cats.

I answered nine more questions and invite you to read the full interview!

And while you are visiting Matt’s website, please have a look at his bio and pages about his upcoming publications.

I end by offering something more like my usual postings. I know a lot of you have seen it before, but I hope it brings a little sweetness and brightness to your day or night!

Copyright 2012 by DM Denton

Copyright 2012 by DM Denton

By the window

there’s a pot

of Paperwhites

as sweet

to the scent as

they are

to the sight;

one then two,

three,

even four

and five of a kind

with their eyes

so bright,

some looking out

and

some looking in.