Q & A with author Elizabeth St. John and San Diego Writers Festival

SDWF: What inspired you to write Written in Their Stars?
ESJ: Written in their Stars is the third book in the Lydiard Chronicles, and was always planned to complete this particular series. What came as a surprise was the emergence of one of the main characters, Nan Wilmot, and the role she played in a seventeenth century women’s spy network. The more I researched, the more I knew the story I had to tell was one that revealed the “women in the shadows” – participants in the British Civil War, hidden behind the men, but still effectively changing the course of history.

SDWF: What books are on your nightstand or stacked next to your bed?
ESJ: I always keep Dylan Thomas on my nightstand, for his words are wonderful to drift to sleep by. I also have the biography Royal Charles by Antonia Fraser. On my kindle I’m reading The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon; and on my laptop I am beta reading the fifth book in the du Lac Chronicles, set in dark age Britain.

SDWF: What writing resources have been most helpful to you?
ESJ: Writing about my own ancestors has required a wide-ranging research, and so visiting the UK National Archives, the British Library and the country homes and castles where my family lived definitely created an indelible impression. Holding documents they signed, reading a four-hundred-year-old will for the first, and opening a diary written by my ancestress in 1670 has been extraordinary. The kind permission and support of librarians and curators is invaluable, without which I would not have been able to write. Online, I use JSTOR to look for scholarly papers, British History OnLine for primary source information on locations; and specialist sites such as British Civil War and British Parliament online. The Friends of Lydiard Park (the family seat after which my novels are named) has been incredibly helpful in providing primary source information on the family history; the Lydiard Park museum and the family church of St. Mary has a multitude of portraits and monuments, which have been inspirational in firing my imagination.

SDWF: Is there a line from your piece you’d be willing to share? (opening sentence(s) or something that gives flavor of the piece?)
ESJ: In this extract, Nan Wilmot, Countess of Rochester, despairs that she can defend her home against Oliver Cromwell’s troops. Within her home she hides a precious portrait of Queen Elizabeth I, her talisman in times of great fear. Here, she runs to the portrait for comfort.

Only with Elizabeth could she share her inner fears. “These long months since the king’s death have been a terrible ordeal, and I fear daily Parliament will demand more than I can possibly give. The future of Ditchley depends on me.”

Queen Elizabeth’s eyes, a rich tawny brown, gazed upon her with empathy.

 “And now Allen will join my husband in The Hague, and I fear I have encouraged his exile to the sorrow of my family,” Nan continued. “But there are choices to be made, and if I can support the prince while saving Ditchley, then I must use all the ammunition I have.”

The woman stared at her impassively.

“I must now play both sides. For if I do not comply with Cromwell, my sons will be the target of his retaliation. Sequestration will bite deep. The demands will be exorbitant. And I refuse to be the woman who loses Ditchley. As you did not lose England to the Spanish heretics.”

Nan lowered her candle, illuminating the map, seeking reassurance the queen’s touch guarded Ditchley. Once, Elizabeth had walked this gallery, danced a galliard in the great hall below, shone her radiance upon this home and bestowed eminence upon the Lee family. She looked up again at the calm eyes, lucid in the perfect oval face.

“I will not be the woman who loses Ditchley.” In repetition came truth. “Like you, I will work from the shadows to find the light.”

A commotion from the great hall as the entrance door slammed and the ring of spurs clanged over the flagstone floor. A scraping of chairs from the dais, a scurrying of footsteps, exclamations of surprise and joy.

Henry. Her love. Her mercurial man.

“I must go,” Nan whispered. “My husband returns.”

In God’s truth, we love the adventurers, the explorers, the soldiers and courtiers who charm us, worship us, and inspire us to be fearless.

SDWF: Thank you, Elizabeth!

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