All around the mulberry bush

The monkey chased the weasel.

The monkey thought it was all in fun,

Pop! goes the weasel.

A penny for a spool of thread,

A penny for a needle,

That’s the way the money goes.

Pop! goes the weasel.

But then I got thinking about the British version, which is the one my husband grew up singing:

Half a pound of tuppenny rice,

Half a pound of treacle.

That’s the way the money goes,

Pop! goes the weasel.

Up and down the City Road,

In and out the Eagle,

That’s the way the money goes,

Pop! goes the weasel.

If you’re as history-obsessed as I am, you will found yourself looking for meaning even in traditional children’s songs. The explanation I like best involves, coincidentally, the Victorian period. If you know that “pop” is a slang term for “to pawn” and that “weasel” is Cockney rhyming slang for “coat”, then the lyrics suddenly make sense. This isn’t just an odd little nursery rhyme featuring lively weasels; it’s about grinding urban poverty. Go ahead, check it out!

This grittiness makes me like the song even more. How about you?

Anyway, this week’s blog post, Rebels with a Cause, is part of YABookReads’s Historical Fiction vs Dystopia showdown. Among other things, I argue that “History is about competing stories, rival interpretations, and detective work.” Much as I enjoy dystopia, I think we all know which genre will prevail.

And look! It’s an Agency collage!

by Zoë Lehoux, age 11

I love that Zoë sought out an image of Mary’s jade pendant (near the top, left of centre). What do you think? Is it like you imagined? Thank you for letting me share your hard work, Zoë!

The poet Yeats, looking (justifiably) suspicious at this summons to the blog of a YA novelist.

On the very first page of the prologue, I describe “a leathery stick of a man rolled in shreds of rotting cloth”. It’s a strong image, but yesterday it finally hit me: I pinched it from W. B. Yeats! In “Sailing to Byzantium” (1928), Yeats writes, “An aged man is but a paltry thing,/ A tattered coat upon a stick”. Ahem. Yeats said it better than I. But my point is, I know that poem well. I’ve even taught it to undergraduates. So how could I slide it into my own manuscript without instantly recognizing it?

Part of it is the intensity of the writing process. I wrote the prologue quite late in the timeline, when I was feverish with words and ideas and images and time pressure. (This was in June 2010.) Then I edited it for clarity, continuity, consistency – but clearly not a readerly eye.

My two editors (one at Candlewick Press, one at Walker Books) read it (July 2010) but probably assumed I knew what I’d done. It then passed the scrutiny of a copy editor, as well (August 2010). There were a few more editorial queries about the ms in November 2010, but I haven’t looked at it since. It’s only in this last pass that I’ve had the leisure to read the book as a relative stranger – critically, even somewhat dispassionately. As someone who literally hasn’t looked at the book for 4 months.

And that’s the infuriating, miraculous, transformative nature of page proofs. I read them differently for a few reasons: because of the time lapse. Because the page layout is set up as it will be in the final book, so things look official. Because in a different font, the words seem less like mine. There are moments of recognition, of course – occasional pride in a bit of dialogue, but more often shame at a clunky phrase or word repetition. I’m so glad to have this last chance to fix things, every single time. I also try not to dwell on the errors that will, inevitably, escape me.

As for my Yeatsian image, I haven’t decided what to do about it yet. I’m all for self-conscious homage. In past books, I’ve included jokes about Mary Wollstonecraft and Sherlock Holmes, and quoted Dorothy L. Sayers, among other things.

But this one? Not sure. I’m very glad I caught it, but still feel startled that it took me so long to do so. So I’ll sit on it for now, work through the remaining pages, and see what I think tomorrow or the next day. Maybe a few days of self-consciousness will transform it from theft to homage. Or maybe not.

As it turns out, a fair amount.

And just a quick reminder for Toronto-area readers: I’ll be launching The Body at the Tower at Type Books (883 Queen St West) next week (Thursday, November 25) from 7 to 8.30 pm. Hope to see you there!

This is a reader’s choice award for ages 11-15, it’s linked to a great reading-promotion program in Ontario schools, and the whole thing culminates in a 2-day gala at the Harbourfront Centre in Toronto. The craziest part, though? Being in the company of writers I think of as superstars, like Kelley Armstrong. And Gordon Korman, for crying out loud, whose work I loved as a kid. Plus, there are writers on the shortlist whose work I don’t know, but am really looking forward to discovering (click here for full shortlist). It’s all a bit dizzying.

But enough diva-ish fluttering. There are thousands of resources, both print and online, that I used when writing the Agency books. This is because my research began long before I thought of writing a novel, back when I was working on a PhD thesis in Victorian literature and culture. And that’s the beautiful, maddening, addictive thing about research: you start in one place and end up light years away, with pages upon pages of facts and anecdotes that probably won’t make it into the finished work. And it doesn’t matter, because you’re the richer for having read them. It’s brilliant.

But it’s also a pretty unhelpful thing to say here. But there are some books and sites that I go back to very regularly, and those are the ones I’ll share here today. Without further ado:

Online Resources (no particular order)

I adore Lee Jackson’s Dictionary of Victorian London, a compilation of primary sources (that is, sources from the Victorian era). It’s addictive reading; I dare you not to spend four times as long there as you’d intended. Don’t miss the “Flash Dictionary” of slang!

The Old Bailey Online archives the proceedings of London’s central criminal court, from 1674-1913. Again, utterly addictive and a fantastic window into Victorian crime. My friend John Nicholls first told me about to the site. Thanks, John!

The Times Archive is just that – a searchable archive of every article published in that newspaper, from its launch in 1785. You have to pay for access, unless you belong to an institution (eg, university) that subscribes.

The Victorian Peeper (I know – sounds vaguely rude) is an truly wonderful blog written by Kristan Tetens, “a historian of nineteenth-century Britain based in twenty-first century America”. It’s an endless delight and offers links to previously unknown sources, such as the one below.

Hidden Lives Revealed is a sometimes heartbreaking archive of case files and photographs of orphans at the Children’s Society, 1881-1918. The photographs are particularly illuminating.

The Victorian Web is an academic site with about 40,000 short articles on the Victorian period. Many of these were written by Brown University undergraduates and some aren’t 100% reliable, but it’s a terrific starting point and most of the essays have a partial bibliography for further research.

Print Resources (alphabetical by surname)

Ackroyd, Peter. London: The Biography. 2001. An authoritative history of the city.

Flanders, Judith. Consuming Passions: Leisure and Pleasure in Victorian Britain. 2007. Wonderful social history and a window into real people’s lives.

—. The Victorian House: Domestic Life from Childbirth to Deathbed. 2004. You wouldn’t think a book about domestic life could be gripping, but this is. One of my favourite non-fiction books, period.

Picard, Liza. Victorian London. 2005. A lively general overview, but if you’re already deep into the era, you can skip this one.

Ross, Ellen, ed. Slum Travellers: Ladies and London Poverty, 1860-1920. 2007. Letters and reports from reform-minded ladies of the period. Great for contemporary flavour.

Smith, Stephen. Underground London: Travels Beneath the City Streets. 2004. Useful chapter on Victorian burial practices.

Sweet, Matthew. Inventing the Victorians. 2002. Debunks a lot of tenacious myths about Victorian culture and morals.

Tomalin, Claire. The Invisible Woman: The Story of Nelly Ternan and Charles Dickens. 1990. Definitive biography of Dickens’s long-time mistress. It’s also a sparkling social history and portrait of theatrical life.

Wilson, A.N. The Victorians. 2002. Authoritative, sometimes infuriating, interesting.

Wilson, Bee. Swindled: From Poison Sweets to Counterfeit Coffee – The Dark History of the Food Cheats. 2008. Gripping stuff – the chapters on “food adulteration” are wonderfully, horribly vivid.

This is a longish blog post but a very short bibliography. Don’t forget the goldmine at the back of nearly each of these books: the notes and bibliography, which will lead you in all kinds of wild new directions. I hope you have a blast!

Then, Booksmuggler Thea reviews Body, calling it “another winning, impeccably well-written historical mystery”. Huzzah!

Thanks so much for joining me on this blog tour. Regularly scheduled blogging returns on Thursday, when I continue my English adventures. See you then!

And over at Teenreads, I’m dispensing bad advice. Ever wondered How Not to Be a Writer? I’ve got tips for you!

Fortunately, it’s not all about me. The Body at the Tower blog tour is at Steph Su Reads today, where I guest-post about Notorious Victorian Joseph Merrick – aka the Elephant Man – and the way he used celebrity as a survival strategy. His is a tragic but also smart and fascinating story.

Steph then reviews Body: “damn if the pages didn’t nearly catch on fire…” *evil cackle from smug author*

There is no real-world launch party today, but stay in touch: I’m planning an online launch party in September. Details to follow.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to celebrate.

Mariah also reviews Body. As she warns, you’re in for “slight spoilers for first book. And possibly some fangirling.”

I’ll see you tomorrow – which is, by the way, the OFFICIAL PUB DATE for Body! – at Steph Su Reads with part 2 of Victorian Celebrities.