Thursday, October 24, 2024

A Sugar Cookie by Any Other Name - by Jo-Ann Roberts


 

Last weekend we attended a 50th wedding anniversary party for our best friends in Connecticut. It was a great party with great friends, a great family, and great food. 

...and I brought two trays of Italian cookies. Last year, at our 50th wedding anniversary party, I mentioned to our friends' children that I would make cookies. They were quick to remind me of my offer in late summer. Little did I know that I would have three...3...books due around the same time and chronic leg pain. However, I pushed on, and with my husband's help, was able to get the cookies made, and two books written. (The third is a wip due out in December).


You may ask what does this have to do with sugar cookies?  Not much, but while I was looking online for a particular Italian-filled cookie, I came across several blogs on sugar cookies, and the history of this treat is as simple and straightforward as the cookie itself.

A sugar cookie is a cookie made with sugar, flour, butter, eggs vanilla, and either baking powder or baking soda. They may be formed by hand, dropped, or rolled and cut into shapes. They may be decorated with additional sugar, icing, sprinkles, or a combination of these. Decorative shapes and figures can be cut into the rolled-out dough using a cookie cutter.

The sugar cookie as we know it today was created by Protestant settlers in the Nazareth colony of Pennsylvania in the 1700s. They bake their cookies in the shape of a keystone, the state's symbol.

When word started spreading throughout Europe in the 17th century about these tasty desserts, and later when they were introduced to the Americas, some interesting terms were employed to describe these small treats. Fun names like jumbles, crybabies, and plunkets. These early cookies morphed into gimblettes in France and cimbellines in Italy.

  gimblettes

 cimbellines

Jumbles were the earliest form of sugar cookies. 

These were dry and not very enjoyable. However, people used them as Christmas ornaments. They would cut out these sugar cookies into different shapes and hang them on their trees.



A side note here
: When my children were small, I would make sugar cookies with frosting and sprinkles and hang them on the tree. One evening as I went to turn off the lights, I noticed a discernible bite had been taken on many of the cookies on the lower branches. Come to find out, my three-year-old son had been sampling the cookies while he played nearby.

Victorian America believed adding spices to cookies could overly excite the digestive system, especially for growing children. It was deemed not only unhealthy but potentially immoral. 

For family teas and children's treats, women still needed something they could bake easily and inexpensively, without a lot of fuss, and something very plain. Cookies fit the bill perfectly. 

By the 1870s, plain cookies were common weekday fare in middle-class homes, and with a glass of milk made perfect snacks for children, or even a quick nutritious supper so children could be packed off to bed before a dinner party. If a mother wanted to make her babies' cookies even more nutritious, she might add chopped peanuts or oatmeal. Hence, peanut cookies and oatmeal cookies began as health food. And here you thought they were dessert!




What the mothers did not add was flavoring. Possibly a hint of nutmeg, which could be grated, or a squeeze of lemon, but nothing more. Even when vanilla extract became widely available in the 1880s, cooks rarely added it to "cookies", which seem to have been plain by design. The name "sugar cookie" seems to have caught on by the end of the 19th century. 

Sugar cookies are simple to make and delicious to eat, making them a popular choice for Christmas cookies for Santa Claus and other family traditions.

Upcoming Release


Wednesday, October 23, 2024

Secondary Characters Can Sometimes Be #1 by Zina Abbott


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I find one of the truly fun aspects of being an author is when I add characters to flesh out the plot or enhance the protagonists (hero and/or heroine) or antagonist (the bad guy/s) only to have them become a big part of the success of the story. Sometimes, they steal the show. Other times, after I write "The End," I realize that secondary character (or a pair of them) deserve their own romance.

Today I am featuring a few of my secondary (and in one case, a tertiary) characters.

First, I will feature Elizabeth "Betsy" Jewell, who, as Varinia Jewell's sister, six years her junior, I wrote as a secondary character in Vinegar Pie by Varinia. 

At age seventeen, Betsy had graduated from the tenth grade. Other than focus on fashions, jewelry, and gossiping with her friends, she had no interests or talents of note--certainly none her mother and sister thought she should have. She does make it her mission to serve as a chaperone for her older sister any time Varinia has an opportunity to socialize with the man of her dreams, Arnie.

Here is an excerpt featuring Betsy from Vinegar Pie by Varinia:

Varinia waited until the two older students left before she turned to Betsy. “If it was not your idea to help, I don’t expect you to. However, it’s not fair or considerate for you to distract them and be at least partially responsible for them receiving a lower grade on this assignment.”

            “Stop treating me like I’m still in school. I’ve graduated, and I’m an adult now.” Stamping her foot, Betsy stepped back from Varinia.

            “Then act like it,” Varinia hissed. “Adults find their seats prior to a performance. Unless they are helping, they stay out of the way.”

            “I’ll visit who I want, when I want!”

            “Not while they are busy as part of the school program. Save your visiting for after, when you can congratulate them on a performance well done.”

            “Leave me alone. I’m tired of you acting like you’re my schoolmarm.” Betsy turned to follow Sally and Belinda.

            “Like you said, you are no longer in school. Stay away from the students until after the program.” Varinia lunged for her sister. Grabbing Betsy’s wrist with a death grip, she twisted around and stood on the balls of her feet as she searched the room. Seeing their parents, she tugged on her sister’s arm as she pulled Betsy toward them.

... Stepping around his wife, Charles Jewell leaned toward Varinia. He shifted his gaze from Varinia toward her sister. “Betsy, go sit on the bench with your mother.”

            “Pa, that’s not fair. All I was doing was socializing until the program begins.”

            A burst of male laughter filled the air.

          Along with the rest of her family, Varinia snapped her attention to the rear of the room where a circle of five men stood conversing. What was more, she recognized that Betsy’s gaze had honed in on one particular man in the group—Arnie Dickens.

         “Fine. If you don’t want me to socialize with friends from school, then I’ll visit with a few other people, instead. Ma, I’ll come with you in a few minutes, I promise.” Turning to face her mother, Betsy assumed her most winsome, charming smile.

Betsy was a troublemaker, who caused all sorts of problems at the family Christmas dinner. Both Arnie and his widowed father, Bert, had been invited. They ended up bringing an unexpected visitor, Arnie's cousin, Roy Hobart. 

When I first wrote Roy into the story, I did so as a distraction for Betsy--someone who take some of the pressure off her and help the story reach a positive conclusion. 

Here is a scene involving Roy:

            “You might be older than I am, Arnie, but you need to get out more.” Roy continued to grin as he walked toward his cousin. “Let me take that plate, Cousin.” He picked up the partially consumed slice of vinegar pie. “While you’re with your lady, I suspect you have more important things to do than eating.”

            “I can’t claim her as my lady, yet, Roy. We barely started courting.” Arnie again forced his breathing to stay even.

            “She’s the same woman your heart was bleeding over when I came for Christmas last year. She’s your lady, all right.” Pausing with the plate in his hand, Roy turned toward Arnie. “It took you long enough to start moving things along, Cousin. Then again, you always were a bit slow and far too steady. Now she’s agreed to court, if I were you, I’d speed things up. As for this humble delicious pie, I wouldn’t want it to go to waste. We’ll just put this back in the pan.” Using the fork, he shoved the slice into the open space next to the rest of the pie. “We’ll take it with us when we return to the stable. When you bring the empty pan back in the next day or so, it will give you two another excuse to visit.”

            “I don’t need an excuse to visit Rina.” Arnie shook his head.

            “Sure, you do. You and all your properness.” Roy walked over and shrugged on his heavy coat before returning to the table. “If you’ll pardon me, I’d like to take a little air.  ... “Oh, and if you’re worried about propriety regarding Betsy and me both being outside at the same time, you’re welcome to watch us through the window.” Roy walked toward the front door. “If she’ll let me, I might talk to her for a few minutes. I don’t plan to say anything mean.  After all, it’s the same sort of thing I’ve been known to do in my day.”

            Isn’t that the truth? Swallowing, Arnie turned to gauge Rina’s reaction. The way she covered her mouth with her palm, was she trying to keep from laughing aloud?

           "In spite of the dirty trick she played on her sister, I like Betsy.” Ignoring Dorothy’s gasp, Roy opened the door and exited.

            “That young man is a little short of manners.” Her face turning pink, Dorothy glanced around the room before she turned her attention to gathering used dishes. “No offense, Mr. Dickens. Since he’s your relative, I shouldn’t have said anything. Besides, considering Betsy’s behavior today, I don’t have room to talk.” She pressed her fingertips to her lips and blinked back tears.

By the time I finished the chapter that included this scene, I decided Betsy and Roy needed their own romance. 

First, I encourage you to read Vinegar Pie by Varinia, which is on sale for 99c until October 27th in the U.S. only (Sorry, it's an Amazon thing). It is also available with a Kindle Unlimited subscription. For the book description and purchase options, please CLICK HERE.

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The secondary character I will feature next I wrote for Lemon Cookies by Lisbeth

How did Betsy end up being known as Lisbeth? After discovering her calling life--thanks to Roy's suggestion--she not only pursued her interest, but decided to reinvent herself starting by changing her nickname. As for Roy, he remained Roy.

Due to Roy's job with a railroad section crew, Lisbeth and Roy spent much of their growing romance being separated. I needed a way to expose Roy's thoughts and feelings. I did so through a secondary character named Enos. 

In my initial novel plot planning, Enos did not exist. He came into being as I wrote the first chapter in which he appears. By the end of the second chapter that features his interaction with Roy, I loved him as a secondary character.

Enos was the cook for the section crew. His backstory was, he was born into slavery and walked away from his owner after the Emancipation Proclamation. He never learned to read or write, never was married, but worked where he could. This unassuming character becomes a sounding board and font of wisdom for Roy:

            “What you planning on making when you done carving my bean scoop?”

            Roy snapped his face up and turned his gaze on Enos. “I plan on making a box so I can mail a rock. It’s a chip of that gneiss, or however you say it, that much of these canyon walls are made of.”

            “A rock?” His lips parted and the whites of his eyes standing out against his darker skin tones, Enos stared. “I’s seen enough of these here rocks to last me all my born days. They about buried me when no one told us get clear and that explosion hit too soon. Why you want to spend good money mailing someone a Black Canyon rock?”

            “Sounds crazy, huh?” Roy grinned. “You don’t have to answer that, Enos. I’ve been told all my life I say and do crazy things. However, when I went to Cleora to visit my uncle, a certain young lady—”

            “Um, um, um, Roy. You got you a woman there in Cleora?” Eyes rounded, Enos stared.

            “Keep it down, Enos.” Gritting his teeth, Roy glanced at the door leading to the other room. “No, I don’t got a woman.”

            “Uh-huh. If that what you say.” Enos grinned broadly enough his white teeth against his dark skin filled his face.

            “It’s true, Enos.” Unfortunately. “Her sister married my cousin. Nothing more than that.”

            “That your story, no one hear no different from old Enos.” Wearing a smirk, Enos shook his head.

And later:

 ...      “Uh-huh. You don’t fool old Enos.” The man turned his back on Roy. Dipping a rag into a bowl of drippings, he began wiping the inside of his cast iron pot. “Why a lemon? Most women I’s know like flowers or hearts.

            “If you knew her, you’d understand why I chose a lemon.”

            “Lady got a little tartness about her?”

One thing I will say, I agonized over the dialect for this character. In some of my earlier works that included Black characters, in an effort to write true-to-life dialogue that would not offend, I discovered that dialects change over time. There are and were as many dialects spoken by Blacks as there are or were regions in which they live or lived The dialects sometimes spoken by many Black people today are not necessarily the same as those spoken by their ancestors one-hundred-and-fifty years ago. 

I hope I did justice to Enos, because he was my surprise, gold medal secondary character in Lemon Cookies by Lisbeth, which is now available for sale as an ebook and at no additional cost with a Kindle Unlimited subscription. To find the book description and purchase options, please CLICK HERE.

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The third secondary character I wish to feature is a child character--one of my favorites to write. Ellen is the daughter of one of my female characters in Wyatt's New Bride, which was published at the end of September. 

The first time the reader meets Ellen, she is four, almost five-years-old. She comes into her own farther along in the story. The first time my hero, Wyatt, meets her takes place almost two years after we first meet Ellen:

            Something opened his right eyelid and held it open. He again struggled to focus, only to realize a young girl with ash blonde hair and blue-gray eyes had placed her face several inches away on the same level as his. She stared at his eyeball.

            “You are sleeping in my bed.” Her voice a whisper, she raised her head and cocked an ear before stooping and returning her gaze to his. “I don’t mind. At first, Mama put you in her bed because you got shot really, really bad, just like Papa. Papa died before Grandpa brought him home. Only, you were still alive when some mens brought you here and when the doctor came. Mama sent me to the kitchen, but I sneaked back to the door and watched. He opened your eyes like this.” She reached her other hand to Wyatt’s left eye, which barely cleared the pillow, and pried that eyelid open, too. “The first time he said your pu…” She wrinkled her forehead. “I can’t say that word. Mama said it means the black dots in the center of your eyes. Anyway, they were different sizes, and you had a cussing.”

            “Concussion?” After searching for the right word, Wyatt spoke slowly. He wanted to laugh but feared doing so might send more physical pain coursing through him.

            The girl nodded. “Doctor Walker came again yesterday. He checked your eyes and said your head might still hurt, but the cuss…concussing…”

            “Concussion.”

            “He said it was gone because the black dots were the same size. They still are.”

            “That’s good. You can stop holding my eyelids open. I’ll try to do it myself.” Wyatt managed a smile. “What’s your name?”

            “Ellen.” She released his eyelids and leaned away.

            “That’s a pretty name.” Wyatt’s gaze grew unfocused. Ellen. One of the singing angels.

            “Uh-huh, but you have to talk really, really soft. Mama said not to wake you. Now the weather is warmer, she went outside to clean the chicken coop. I help gather eggs and feed the chickens, but I don’t like cleaning the coop.” Ellen wrinkled her nose. “Even though Mama said I must let you sleep, I stayed inside and watched you. I’m not supposed to bother you, but you were already waked. I saw you moving. You opened your eyes and lifted your head.”

            “I’m happy you’re here, Ellen.” He truly was grateful for the little chatterbox’s presence. Already, she had given him information that helped him understand what took place.

            “The doctor said the fection—I think that’s the right word.” Ellen scrunched her forehead.

            “Infection?”

            “Uh-huh, that’s it. He said it’s almost gone in the hole in your side. That part is healing really, really good, but your shoulder will take a long, long time.”

A special relationship develops between Wyatt and Ellen, the secondary character who, at times, steals the show. 

Wyatt's New Bride is currently available for sale as an ebook and at no additional cost with a Kindle Unlimited subscription. To find the book description and purchase options, please CLICK HERE.

I hope you enjoy reading secondary characters as much as I enjoy writing them.