The Music of Sultana: Two Sisters

How many authors out there listen to music when you're writing? I can't be the only one. Writing is a preferably solitary activity; seriously, I cannot think of what comes next, much less type one letter on the keyboard if anyone else is in the room. I'm not one of those writers who needs absolute quiet while at my computer; I just need the right kind of music to craft one good scene or several.

It's vital to the process, keeps the sometimes fickle Muse close at hand and ensures I stay focused and energized for long hours of writing and editing. The words, the feelings and thoughts of the characters just flow across the page when I'm inspired by background music. There, now you know my best secret for "getting in the zone" and evoking certain moods in scenes. While working books from the Sultana series, the rich musical traditions inherited from Moorish Andalusia connected me with each story even more. Apologies to the family and the neighbors for playing Juan Martin's Musica Alhambra every morning and the loud flamenco music on Sunday evenings. But how could anyone not be captivated or stirred by the oud or guitar?

With Sultana: Two Sisters, I began an exploration of the role of Jewish people in Moorish society. Naturally, my listening tastes now include music that evokes the Sephardi experience in Spain. One of my favorites is the most haunting song I've ever heard, "Nani Nani" by Hadass Pal-Yarden from the album Yahudice. It's supposed to be a lullaby sung by a betrayed woman for her young son, telling him of the sorrow his father has inflicted. Sets the perfect mood for a certain scene in Two Sisters. There's also Massel Klezmorim's "Sephardic Elegy" from Jewish Travels - A Historical Voyage in Music and Song, which emphasizes the guitar throughout. Most of what I listen to tends to be instrumental, but as with my favorite, "Nani Nani", that's not a rule set in stone. The vocals on that particular track are really stirring. Almost everything in my inspirational collection is available via Spotify and Youtube, both great resources for finding music that fits the mood.             

So what's most often on my playlist while I work on this title? Listen HERE for some of what sustains me.  If you'd like to create your own free playlist, visit PodSnack, which lets you compile collections from Youtube and / or your computer. Happy writing (and listening)!  

Meet the Characters of Sultana: Two Sisters - Juan Manuel Gomero

Esperanza and her counterpart Miriam find themselves enslaved in Sultana: Two Sisters, sold by Ahmed al-Qurtubi and his nephew Fadil to a rich merchant, Juan Manuel Gomero. Men like Juan Manuel Gomero would have made their wealth from brokering profitable sales of slaves; men, women and children captured in Moorish raids along the towns that bordered the Christian kingdoms of Castile and Aragon. Beautiful women, like Esperanza and Miriam, would be considered suitable for concubinage. Private auctions were usually arranged for the female slaves sold to noble families and the Nasrid rulers of Granada, unlike the public display depicted below in Jean-Leon Gerome's Orientalist classic, The Slave Market. In medieval Spain, a bondwoman's origins did not prevent her children from attaining their freedom or prestige, even a crown. The Sultan Abu'l-Juyush Nasr, maternal great uncle of Sultan Yusuf in my latest title, was the product of a union between Sultan Muhammad II and a Christian concubine.

Of all the characters of Sultana: Two Sisters, Juan Manuel caused the most conflicted feelings. He has no qualms about gaining profit from the miserable existence of others. Inspiration for his hardened personality came from knowledge of attitudes during other historic slave-holding periods, including the Roman Empire and the Atlantic slave trade. As Miriam quickly discovers, her plight has no affect on this cultured and tolerant man.

Juan Manuel approached Miriam. He scrutinized her with a frown and then lifted an eyebrow. “You have spoiled this one, Ahmed. Look at these scars, that bruise, and this cut on her face. My patrons have very specific desires. All of my stock must be beautiful and free from blemish. You never mentioned she was pregnant either. I bargained for a midwife to attest to the younger one’s virginity, not for the sake of a breeding woman! Take this one away and make what profit you can in the market.”

Bitterness assailed Miriam. How dare this preening peacock dismiss her, especially after he had shown excessive reflection on Esperanza’s bland appearance?

Ahmed clasped his hands together. “I thought you would be pleased to know she is fertile. I could sell the mother and the unborn child for twenty maravedies less than the agreed upon price. You would gain two slaves at a bargain.”

“Only twenty gold coins less? Bah! You presume I still wish to buy her. You do not fool me when it’s clear you are eager to rid yourself of the woman.”

“You mistake me. She is yours. Do not quibble over a few scratches. They will fade.”

“In a month? I expected to auction both females at that time.” 
Miriam sucked in her breath. Juan Manuel's home would not be their final destination.

In Esperanza's encounter with the man, he teases at knowing more about her heritage than she does. She discovers something enigmatic about him, a side he does not hint at with others.

When she opened her eyes, Esperanza first became aware of the unusual tiling of the floor, another random design. Then she realized the brown-haired man who had inspected her the day before now sat on the stool. His elbows pressed against his knees and his chin propped up his fists. He wore a black silken pellote trimmed with gold braid. Beneath the sideless surcoat, the sleeves of a green tunic hid his fingers.

She tugged the damp cover around her naked form and sat up. “What are you doing here?”

He laughed in a rumbling, throaty voice. “I am master of the house and all who dwell herein.”

“Still, you should not be alone with me.”

“Why? You must know my coin built this bathhouse, provides every comfort you have experienced within it. Your youth cannot excuse ignorance. What is your age?”

“I have lived for fourteen years.”

“Tell me, is your full name Esperanza Peralta?”

“It is! I have no reason to lie.”

His gaze probed her face. Something unexpected glinted in his golden gaze. She thought she recognized sympathy, but his intent gaze suggested another elusive emotion.

“Sí. I should have known you by your features.”

Her temple pulsed and her breath quickened. “Why? You have never met me before now. My father never traveled to Andalusia.”

“Perhaps everything is not as you believe. Did he ever tell you how he came by the Peralta name, its origins?”

“If he knew, he did not say.”

“I suppose not. And you were born in Castilla-Leon?”

“At Talavera—”

“De la Reina,” he finished for her. “I should have guessed that too.”

How is a stranger, who has only recently met the heroine, able to discern so much from her looks? I promise Juan Manuel has much more to share with Esperanza as the story progresses!

Devoted to his business, Juan Manuel relies on a trusted slave to introduce the women to Moorish customs and ensure their cooperation. Next time, meet Sadiya, a beautiful French girl entrusted by her master with aiding's Esperanza adjustment to life as a slave in Moorish Spain.         

Meet the Characters of Sultana: Two Sisters - Fadil al-Qurtubi

In Sultana: Two Sisters, Fadil al-Qurtubi is the chief tormentor of Esperanza and Miriam, after they are captured by Moors on the plains of La Mancha. The paternal nephew of Ahmed al-Qurtubi, Fadil is a child in a man's body, possessing an innate cruel nature coupled with the willingness to act on his impulses. Inspiration for him came from film characters.

Adapted from Isabel Allende's The House of the Spirits, the film features actor Vincent Gallo as Jeremy Irons' bastard son sired through rape. When the boy first shows up with a demand from his mother that his paternity be recognized, his father dismisses him - a huge mistake. There's a quiet menace about the young man that's fully realized later as he exacts revenge on his father's family, especially his young half-sister Blanca, played by Winona Ryder. This is a character without empathy. Fadil also reminds me of Heath's Ledger's turn as the Joker in The Dark Knight. With little clear information on his background, the character ramps up the violence from the start of the film and doesn't care how much damage is left in his wake. I went for the same lack of empathy and powerful brutality in the portrayal of Fadil. Like the Joker, his cruelty doesn't derive from any specific cause but he's hell-bent on getting what he wants. As with Vincent Gallo's character, Fadil serves as a reminder of what can happen when a youthful, wayward personality isn't corrected.  

I've often received the feedback from critique groups that every villain should have a cause, just like the protagonist. While Fadil does thwart Esperanza and Miriam's immediate goal of freedom, he isn't the true antagonist of this story - find out who is when this title's released next year. Instead, Fadil drives a wedge between Esperanza and Miriam, by highlighting the differences in their treatment during captivity. While he has a limited goal, the effect of it ensures devastating consequences. Fadil is the kind of villain who does the unexpected simply because he can and in doing so, his actions precipitate other conflicts.

From Esperanza's first meeting with Fadil, she knew she should be afraid. He introduces a capacity for violence with this scene:

Beneath a moonless evening, Esperanza’s captor dragged her from the black stallion. He shoved her next to a large, crumbling rock beside a desiccated stump, the only evidence of trees she had seen across the barren landscape. Her elbow banged against the stone so hard, tears pricked her eyes. She hung her head and bit her lip to stifle a cry. She would never give him the satisfaction of seeing the resultant pain etched in her features.

He licked cracked lips and cocked his head as if studying her. His stubby nose at the center of a pockmarked face disgusted her almost as much as the jagged scar rippling across his left cheek. During the furious ride, he had tied her wrists with hemp. Now, he knelt at her feet and reached for the fastenings of her zapatas. 

She lifted her leg and kicked him squarely in the chest. “Do not touch me, you ugly savage!”

The knife he had pressed to her ribs earlier reappeared in his copper-colored hand. She shrank against the stone as he raised the blade.

Unfortunately for Miriam, she bears the brunt of Fadil's excesses. She also develops an understanding of the young man's desires coupled with a determination to avenge the losses he has inflicted upon her:

Fadil thwarted Miriam’s contemplation of Esperanza, for he returned in haste and flopped on the ground. Water sloshed from the gourd and fed the parched and broken earth.

The careless fool grinned at her in his idiocy. “I have decided you will be mine. My uncle can have my share of the spoils. All I want is you. After you have delivered of this babe, I shall put another into your belly, one whom my uncle cannot sell as a slave. If you obey me, any children I sire upon you may have their freedom.”

She snatched the vessel from his grasp, tore a strip from the hem of her tattered saya and wadded the cloth before dipping it into the water. She swallowed her grief and sang for the tender child ripped from her clutches, a trilling melody about a mother and daughter preparing a meal on the eve of Shabbat. She used to sing it for Palomba, in days when Miriam imagined how her child might carry on the traditions of their faith. Now that would never be because of the animal lounging beside her.

The muscles in Miriam’s battered body throbbed with a deeper intensity than the yawning ache in her throat, the pain of tears she refused to shed. She scoured her face and arms, which bore reddened marks where Fadil had seized her on the previous night. Fresh bruises from the morning's violence marred her skin. She could count the layers of scratches, discolorations and scabs if she wished, recalling each moment where her captor had gripped her too hard, or shoved or slapped her. She would never permit herself to forget his cruelty.

Find out how these Esperanza and Esperanza attempt to survive their captivity among the Moors in Sultana: Two Sisters. Next time, meet the character Juan Manuel Gomero, who knows more about Esperanza's heritage than she may suspect.

Meet the Characters of Sultana: Two Sisters - Ahmed al-Qurtubi

In Sultana: Two Sisters, Efrain Peralta must rescue those under his protection including his only daughter Esperanza from a deadly Moorish raid. The leader of the raiders is Ahmed al-Qurtubi, a man of illustrious origins who finds himself reduced to the role of slaver in the ever-shrinking kingdom of Granada. Ahmed is a practical, determined man ruled by his desire to recapture the lost glory of his family. He will do anything to achieve his goal, including resorting to the capture of innocents along the Christian border with Muslim Granada. Despite his coarse actions, his men revere him, which Esperanza quickly learns.

    

“La!” A gravelly tone echoed in the night. Thick leather boots emerged from the shadows. Esperanza’s gaze traipsed up the length of them. They reminded her of similar expensive pairs she had seen on the feet of the Cerda men. The boots rose to the wearer’s knees, stopping at the hem of a voluminous white cloak. Dark eyes in a weather-beaten craggy face with a thin beard peered at her. Other men followed the stranger until at least twenty of them stood over her. 

She drew her knees up to her chest and averted her gaze. The stranger dismissed the man with the knife and took his place. Thin olive-brown fingers went for her chin. She slapped his hand away, seething at his presumption. Those around him stepped back or focused murderous glares on her.

A chuckle rumbled through the stranger’s barrel chest before his stare darkened. His palm swung wide and connected with her cheek. Her shocked tears fell without warning.

He stood. “I have no wish to hurt you.  Never do that again, mi querida.”

When I was imagining Esperanza’s initial encounter with Ahmed, the face of Palestinian actor Ashraf Barhom kept coming to mind. He hasn’t had any breakout roles, but if you’ve watched The Kingdom (with Jaime Fox and Jennifer Garner), Agora (with Rachel Weiss) or Clash of the Titans (with Sam Worthington), you’ve seen Ashraf Barhom appear in pivotal scenes. In each movie, his characters project confidence in their abilities, whether he is portraying as a Saudi Arabian officer, a warrior monk or a bounty hunter, and an easy adaptability to changing circumstances, which perfectly mirrors the forceful personality of Ahmed al-Qurtubi.

The first meeting of Esperanza and Ahmed reveals more of his dangerous nature:

    

The Mohammedan leader stroked his beard as he stood. “There might be more coin for me elsewhere, but I’m uncertain it lies within the old kingdom of Valencia.” He reached beneath a fold in his cloak and withdrew a long curved blade with weaving lines along its surface. He pointed the sword at Esperanza, who shriveled against the rock.

“You see this, little hope? The finest steel from Damascus. I took this from the first man I slaughtered more than twenty years ago. It has never left my hands since then. I remember each person it has killed. I have never beheld another blade of the same quality and craftsmanship, until today.”

He pulled another weapon from within the cloak. The jewel-encrusted handle glittered in the darkness. Esperanza shuddered as he held up the dagger she had last seen in her father’s hands.

Next time, learn more about Fadil al-Qurtubi, Ahmed’s young nephew and the chief tormentor of Esperanza and her counterpart Miriam, in Sultana: Two Sisters.

Meet the Characters of Sultana: Two Sisters - Efrain Peralta

I'm one of many writers who finds inspiration for bringing their characters to life by imagining the modern-day personages they most resemble. While polishing the penultimate draft of Sultana: Two Sisters, I thought readers who anticipate the next novel would be curious to know how some of characterization and descriptions are derived.  

First among my favorite portrayals is the character of Efrain Peralta. He is the sole remaining parent of the heroine, Esperanza. Efrain once served as personal physician to the princely household of Alfonso de la Cerda. Now disgraced and hiding a personal shame he cannot reveal to his daughter, he ventures into a new life, unaware of the peril awaiting him and his beloved child.

Actor Jordi Mollà Perales, whom I last saw as King Philip II of Spain in The Golden Age with Cate Blanchett, hails from Barcelona. When I imagined the character of Esperanza's father, he had to be a somber man respected and loved by his only daughter, with a hint of some secret torture hidden behind his eyes. There's something very enigmatic in Mollà's features that evokes the exact image of Efrain Peralta that I've had in mind for years. Here's how I describe the character in the first chapter of Sultana: Two Sisters. 

A sinewy ragged man, Efrain Peralta stood a little above the diminutive height of his daughter. The evening glare framing him, he strode toward her. The spurs worn with his zapatos drew furrows across the soil. The dusty tips of the shoes peeked from beneath the hem of his mantle. Lines etched in his olive-brown features betrayed a year’s worth of misfortune and grave concerns of which he would not speak. The dark brown hairs atop his head had lost their luster and begun a steady retreat from his gently sloping forehead. A full beard with myriad flecks of gray almost hid the creases around his mouth. At fifty-six years old, his gnarled fingers and spindly arms coupled with the receding hairline gave him the appearance of a man burdened by age. His prideful gait, the crystalline glimmer in the depths of his eyes and a commanding tone hinted at the strength he retained.

The scenes between Esperanza and her father are brief, requiring brevity for the portrayal of a father's pride and love for his daughter. In the first chapter, Efrain must protect his child from danger in the only way he can, by imbuing her with the strength that has helped him survive personal demons up until this point. It's a mix of determination and tenderness that I hope readers will find satisfying.

Efrain grasped her arms and shook her. “This is no time for your stubbornness. You are the only child God ever granted me and I will not lose you!” He wrenched from her grasp and grabbed the reins. “Get on the horse. Ride west now, the setting sun always ahead of you. At night, you will look for the North Star on your right. Do not stop until you reach the safety of Valdepeñas, where we departed from yesterday. It belongs to the caballeros of the Order of Calatrava. The Cistercians shall protect you for my sake.”

He drew his dagger and cut the strings securing a weighted pouch to his leather belt. He shoved the purse filled with coins into her hand. “For your care and comfort.”

“You want me to ride off alone into the darkness? Papa, I can’t reach Valdepeñas!”

“You can and you will! You have spent more time with horses than I ever did, since you were four years old. I am not asking you to ride on without me. I am telling you! Get on the damned horse! I will not see your life ended by a Moor’s blade. Greater peril may lie ahead, but you will make the attempt to escape.”

That he considered failure a possibility but held hope for her against the obvious threat gave clear indication of his resolve. Still Esperanza stood catatonic. Her gaze watered. 

He captured her face between his withered hands and pressed his lips to her cheeks and forehead in turn. “My most precious life. I beg of you, please go. Do not let me live my last moments knowing you did not try. Whatever happens, you must survive. If I can, I will come for you at Valdepeñas. Wait for me there.”

Look for more each month on the characters of Sultana: Two Sisters through the coming weeks.

Writers: Where did you find inspiration?

Yesterday, I wrote about finding inspiration for my stories. I had not given much thought to it before now.

My inspiration started from a love of history and in particular, the underdog in history, those people who never get a chance to tell their side of the story. At least, that’s what I thought until last night. The idea of "history being written by the victors" is very true. As a writer, I like sifting through the facts to find out more about the other side; their struggle, why they lost and more important, how they survived. If I write about a particular period, it's almost certain that my protagonist will have experienced lots of tragedies along the way. They are survivors, who despite terrible losses, accept the pain and go on living.

I’ve since realized that the reason I tend to write about people who struggle against adversity has very little to do with their conflicts and courage, and much more to do with my personal history. I’m a survivor of sexual abuse. It’s not something that I’ve shared outside of my family or close circle of friends. Until now, that is. Abuse in any form is traumatic and weakens the spirit. It’s even more harmful when you’re a child and the abuser is a once-trusted adult. Even though I was a child, I had the courage to stand up to my abuser. There is something tremendously empowering about acknowledging something horrible in your past AND knowing that you had the courage to rise against it. But some who have suffered or survived abuse never get the chance to speak.

My own experience has led me to focus on characters and periods where the protagonists, the losers in history, have left little genuine information about their lives and suffering. History stifled their voices, by wiping their culture, eradicating their people or absorbing them. It’s a theme that consistent in Sultana and Sultana’s Legacy, where the Spanish conquest of the Moors ensured that the world view of the Nasrid Dynasty has come to us in modern times, mainly through the eyes of Catholic chroniclers. The theme is also present in On Falcon’s Wings, where the losses of the Saxons at the Battle of Hastings altered England’s history forever, almost eliminating the culture of a people that had existed for thousands of years. While I’ve written books to show the mettle and courage of the people who survived turbulent times, only yesterday did I connect my interest to my own experiences as a survivor.

Inspiration comes to us in many ways, from tragedy and triumph. For my fellow writers, what’s your source?   

Creativity: Where do you find it?

Today I was browsing through some stock photos online, when a series of them appeared that would fit the premise of a future novella perfectly. Just like that, inspiration and a little girlish squeal were born. Yes, things like that make me a little giddy.

No matter how important your writing is, do you ever find yourself struggling for the creative spark? Many books written in the same genre have similar aspects. With my first love, historical fiction, I can be assured there will be at least one epic confrontation or battle scene and a test of the main character's survival skills against terrible odds. After years of reading such stories, there are common themes that always emerge, something that feels very familiar. Sometimes, we're all drawing from the same well of inspiration. I think writer's block results - we want to be creative, but it's next to impossible without an original idea in mind.

Many authors who write historical fiction turn an original idea on its head, such as a non-virginal Queen Elizabeth I, or with stories writen from the perspective of the losers in history, rather than its victors. I prefer to write about the history that hasn't been explored as well as the Tudor, Renaissance and Regency periods. The era I choose is a framework that allows me to do a bit of world-building, but that's only half the struggle to feel inspired. To truly be creative, I let music, my environment and people influence me. When I need some rousing battle scene, I blast Carl Orff's Carmina Burana from my computer speakers. I'm sure my family thinks this is strange and annoying all at once. If my character has a rare quiet moment of deep introspection, I create a similar mood by turning off the music, TV, whatever sounds might interfere. I'm also a great people watcher. Nothing like a pair of dark shades and a park bench for catching people at the moment where powerful emotions are on display. Whether it's a couple walking hand in hand or arguing, a parent and child enjoying the warm sunshine, people and their behavior are great sources.

Where do you find creative influences? How do you use them to write?
             

Do It Now

I promise I'm not morphing into Tony Robbins or any other sort of life coach. I am, instead, very contemplative this morning. Yesterday, a dear friend and I were tweeting and the conversation brought to mind someone in our critique group who passed away earlier this year after battling cancer. She had worked on a medieval time-travel piece for a while, but never saw it published.

None of us knows what's coming, or what God or the fates have decided for us. We each have our own personal fears about where life will take us. I'm challenging you, as I do for myself each day, to choose the path. Whatever it is that you have to do: finish a manuscript, edit or revise, write a query, enter a contest, decide which agent you should go with, etc., just do it. Stop procrastinating or putting off the decision until tomorrow. Stop making excuses. Stop letting fear of failure or the unknown limit your possibilities for the future.

The conversation yesterday reminded me of how fleeting our goals and dreams can be. I can only imagine what it is to see your life end with regrets about the things you should or could have done, if you had a little more time. I'd hate to leave this world, knowing that I never finished a manuscript, never queried an agent or editor, never saw my own books published. Now, I won't have those particular regrets, because I've done those things. Don't let time pass you by. Do it now.