Author Archives: Mayken

It’s a nut—it’s a chestnut!

Posted on by
Reply

Do you like chestnuts?

Chestnuts (châtaignes or marrons) are the fruit of the chestnut tree, le châtaignier, which is native to the Mediterranean region but also grows in more northern parts of Europe, including all of France and Germany.
Notably in the regions of the Cévennes and the Limousin in south-central France, chestnuts used to be an important food source, hence the tree’s nickname of arbre à pain, bread tree.

Dried and ground, the chestnuts make for a kind of flour that needs to be mixed with some wheat flour in order to make bread, pancakes, or pastries, which you find mainly in Corsica.

The département of Ardèche (in south-eastern France) is famous for its chestnut specialty crème de marrons, chestnut cream, which you can purchase at any French supermarket in the jam section.

If you are looking for roasted chestnuts from a street vendor, follow their cries of “Chauds les marrons!”
Another French specialty are marrons glacés, candied chestnuts, a popular Christmas sweet.

The sweet chestnut is not to be confused with the horse chestnuts, utterly inedible. The horse chestnut tree is the one producing white pyramids of flowers that are called candles in German.

During a recent walk in the woods—I write this as of mid-November—I came across a group of chestnut trees that had the ground littered with chestnuts. Some were still in their burrs, but most lay among the leaves. Picking them up proved more fun than expected, for as soon as I had spotted one chestnut, I suddenly saw them everywhere. Within a few short minutes, I had collected 650g of them.

I’d never made roasted chestnuts myself, I usually buy them from a street vendor. But I found a very simple recipe I’d like to share here.

Roasted Chestnuts

Rinse your chestnuts and let them dry. Then make an X-shaped incision into each.

Preheat the oven to 220°C (about 430°F).

Put the chestnuts into the oven on a baking sheet or into a flat oven dish for about 20-25 minutes, until they begin to blacken.

Let them cool down before removing the skin which is not edible (or at least, not very digestible).
Enjoy.

Share this:

M is for Métropolitain

Posted on by
Reply

When Paris decided it needed an underground train network, the Compagnie du Chemin de Fer Métropolitain de Paris, the metropolitan train company of Paris, was founded. It later bought up other smaller companies and incorporated their lines into its network, all under the name Métropolitain.
Unlike other big cities which have a certain uniformity in their underground/subway signage, Paris has various different signs signalling an entrance to the below-ground transport network.

It all started with the Société Nord-Sud, whose initials can still be seen in the frames of some billboards on the platforms.

Nord-Sud built and ran three metro lines in the early 20th century before being bought up by the Compagnie du Chemin de Fer Métropolitain de Paris

The most famous entrance signs are those created by Hector Guimard in Art Nouveau style. There were two different types, with and without a glass roof. Of the former, only two remain today, at the stations Porte Dauphine and Abbesses.

The roof-less type is quite numerous and can be found all across town.

This type was given to other cities around the world, such as Mexico City, Chicago, Lisbon, or Moscow. These are all copies, though, the only original one was given to Montreal at the occasion of the World Fair in 1867. It can be found at the station Square Victoria.

The 1920s saw the introduction of totem sign, first more elaborate

then simpler:

At Madeleine station, the totem signals a metro entrance that doubles as an underground passage.

A few stations have particular entrances, such as Vaneau.

The most easily visible sign, however, might be the unadorned yellow M, dating from the 1070s. Not to be confused with another yellow M, it is surrounded by a steel circle and illuminated from the inside at night.

And would you believe that this is a métro entrance? It is indeed, at the station Palais Royal. The kiosque des noctambules, the night-owls’ booth, was created by an artist and set up in the year 2000.

Share this:

Beware of anachronisms

Posted on by
Reply

When I’m reading, one thing that’ll jolt me out like nothing else is anachronisms. Please do your research and make sure that nothing is out of place/time.

Time itself is a prime example of anachronisms in stories set in the past or in fantasy settings inspired by the past. In a medieval setting (which is also still very popular in fantasy), even though there are clocks in church towers or secular public buildings, people are unlikely to carry a time piece around with them and say “We’ll meet again in 30 minutes” or even “Wait a minute”. (Unless otherwise specified in your fantasy world building, of course.)

Another example of an anachronism is the mention of electricity passing between the protagonist and the love interest in a book set in Ancient Rome. It jolted me so much out of the story that I haven’t read any of the other books by the author, even though I’m a huge fan of Ancient Rome stories.

You don’t want that to happen with your readers, do you?

Share this:

Letter from Paris with a catch

Posted on by
1

Even if you’re only a little bit familiar with the French language, you’re bound to have noticed the slanting dashes the French put above certain vowels. At the very least you’ll know the one from café, right? There are three kinds, called “accents”, and you’ll see them mostly above the letter e but also sometimes with certain other vowels. However, do you know the catch (or hook) beneath the letter c?

This kind of c is called “c cédille” and like the accents above, it serves to indicate how the letter is pronounced. In French, the letter c can be pronounced “hard” like the C in Canada or “soft” like the C in Caesar (who is spelled César in French).

Normally, you pronounce a c the hard way when it is followed by the vowels a, o, or u or a consonant, and the soft way when it is followed by the vowels e or i or the letter y.
However, sometimes you have a soft c before an a, o, or u, and in that case you add the catch to indicate the exceptional pronunciation.
A very common example is the word ça (it/that), used all the time in the French equivalent of “How are you?”, namely “Ça va?” (the common answer to which is “Ça va”). It is also the French title of Stephen King’s novel “It”.

Another common occurrence is in the given name François, derived from “France”, also the French version of the current pope’s chosen name. France had two kings bearing that name in the 16th century. François II was the grandson of François 1er, with whom you might be familiar if you’ve been following me on Twitter, as he is an important character in my historic/time travel story.

Now that you know how to pronounce the name of two French kings and a French casual greeting, be advised that you might encounter the letter ç in other languages as well, where the pronunciation rule might be similar or different, for example in Turkish.

A final word: If you want to type the Ç or the ç on your non-French keyboard, hold down the ALT key and type on the number pad 128 for the upper-case and 135 for the lower-case “c cédille”.

Share this:

The Paris Cat Café

Posted on by
3

Hidden away in a small street of the 11th arrondissement, but actually only a stone’s throw from Bastille, you can find the one and only Cat Café of Paris.

In this cozy place, where comfy armchairs sit alongside regular chairs, and homemade food is served, you might find your seat occupied by one of the four-legged residents if you leave it vacant. You can also see the cats balance on their overhead walkways or twisted like a pretzel in an old suitcase.

Signs remind you the cats have priority here, including on the piano.

Along with the menu, you can consult a notice bearing the profile of each cat.

If they consent, you can pet them. If you’re lucky, they take up residence in your lap. I’ve seen cats squatting seats, inspecting your food (they’re not supposed to taste it!), sitting in the window…

Please respect the rules for humans, and I’m sure you’ll have a lovely experience.

Info and opening hours on Le Café des Chats website.

Café des Chats, 9 rue Sedaine, 75011 Paris – Métro Bréguet-Sabin (line 5)
Share this:

A comprehensive guide to world building (not by me)

Posted on by
Reply

I am not going to expound on world building because I can’t claim to be an expert. However, I would like to present the four-part article “The Challenge of Creating A Believable World” by writer Dina von Lowencraft (author of the YA fantasy DRAGON FIRE), as it is the most comprehensive I have come across so far. The article includes several lists of questions to guide your own world building:

Part One “The Physical World” goes over the basic building blocks of world building.

Part Two “The Inhabitants of Your World” takes a closer look at society and how it shapes its inhabitants.

Part Three “The Inherent Conflicts/Issues in Your World” explores different kinds of conflicts linked directly or indirectly to world building.

Part Four “Showing Your World” looks at different ways to show your world building in your story.

Please check out Dina’s book DRAGON FIRE on GoodReads

Share this:

In Memory of the Spire

Posted on by
Reply
The construction of Notre Dame started in 1163 and concluded in 1345.

Do you remember where you were when you heard that Notre Dame was on fire? I do. It was a Monday night, I came home from swim practice, and when I opened the door, my husband greeted me with the words “Notre Dame is burning”. I stared at him, unable to process his words, so he switched on the TV, and sure enough, Notre Dame was burning.
It was April 15, 2019.
The moment that was probably most often shown in replay was when the spire over the crossing came crashing down into the roof.
I took this photo a few years before the fire, while visiting the bell towers with out-of-town friends.

The first spire was built in that spot in the middle of the 13th century but, distorted by the winds over the centuries, eventually collapsed and was removed in 1786. The cathedral remained spireless until the restoration led by famous architect Viollet-le-Duc in the mid-19th century. The new spire was guarded by 16 statues, which were taken down for restoration on April 11, 2019 – four days before the fire.

After a few months’ interruption due to the strict lockdown, works on Notre Dame have picked up again. It is doubtful whether the whole rebuilding process will be concluded within five years, as the French president promised on the “morning after”. Given how long the initial construction of the cathedral took, what is a year or two more? At least, after some discussion, it was decided to rebuild the destroyed spire as it was before the fire.

Carpentry journeymen demonstrate the reconstruction of the nave
Location of Notre Dame on a map of Paris

Share this:

Where do you find inspiration?

Posted on by
Reply

Sometimes my inspiration takes off and gallops full speed ahead without me doing anything, and this in the most ordinary situations. It makes for seemingly bizarre ideas, but once you build a story around them, the bizarreness fades into the background.

I sat at the back of a bus when the driver stopped, cut off the engine, and got off. A bit later, a new driver got on and drove the bus off. My transport-obsessed husband would explain how this stop was the point where drivers regularly switch duty. My writer mind however wondered what if that new driver wasn’t a RATP bus driver but [take your pick] a hijacker, a wizard, a time traveler wanting to try and drive a motorized vehicle?


A few years ago, there were still a few phone boxes around here, including in my street. One day that phone box was removed. I’ve heard people say, “No one but Superman will miss them”, but maybe someone does. What else besides a changing cabin for superheroes (or the visitor entrance to the Ministry for Magic) could a phone box be used for?

At my day job, I’ve been sitting on the health and safety committee for a few years now. One thing I learned during the training course was that employers have to pay employees for work-related injuries. Then I read pirate codes have similar provisions – pirates get payment for loss of a limb.
If there are such parallels between our modern working world and the centuries-ago pirate world, what kind of parallels could there be in a fantasy or sci-fi world?

A post a made on Twitter and its reply:

I was visiting the Centre Block of the Canadian Parliament in Ottawa. In the lower chamber, where the MPs sit, the guide explained that the front benches are just a little more than 2 word-lengths apart, dating back to the days when men wore swords, to avoid that a debate in Parliament got too heated.

I read about a German law that requires that seals born in captivity may not be returned to the wild. How would that apply to humans in a dystopian setting?

As you see, inspiration can be found (pretty much) anywhere.

Share this:

Water fountains everywhere

Posted on by
Reply

Tourists in Paris might be suspicious when they come across these historic water fountains. Can you really drink the water trickling down between those four statues?

Yes, you can. The water is perfectly safe. Just hold your water bottle underneath the trickle, and all you need a little patience because the flow isn’t very strong.
But why have these old-fashioned fountains instead of modern ones which are more easily accessible and allow for a stronger flow?
Oh, but we have those too.

These old-fashioned fountains have a long history behind them. Let me tell you.

Once upon a time, there was a rich Englishman with French roots, who saw the difficulty of supplying water to Paris following the 1870 siege of the capital. He offered to provide 50 drinking water fountains and asked the mayor to accept this donation.
The name of this philanthropist was Sir Richard Wallace. His heritage is still visible in the urban landscape of Paris today, and the fountains are called Wallace fountains in his memory.

There are four different types of water fountains, and all four can still be found around town. They supply potable water from 15 March to 15 November but are turned off in the winter to prevent freezing and bursting pipes.
The model you will see most is quite large, which was meant to help people spot it. On a pedestal stand four caryatids with their backs to each other, holding up a pointed dome. The water trickles down in the center non-stop day and night.

This model was inspired by the Fontaine des Innocents.

There used to be two tin-planted iron goblets on small chains but they were removed for hygiene reasons in 1952.

The second of Sir Wallace’s models was a wall-mounted fountain where the trickle of water falls from the mouth of a naiad into a basin. These were cheap to install and should have been mounted in large numbers on the walls of buildings such as hospitals. It didn’t happen, though, and today there remains only one of these, rue Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire near the Jardin des Plantes entrance.

There are also two small versions. One is very common in public parks, a simple push-button fountain, well-known to parents and nannies who bring their kids to play.

The last model is a small version of the caryatid fountain, with slender columns replacing the statues to reduce the production cost.

The fountains are all painted the same colour, a strong green, required by the city of Paris to match their other street furniture. Today, some of the fountains have been painted in different colours, but the majority is still green.

Many homeless people drink from the fountains even today, as they are one of the rare free points of access to water. So the legacy of Sir Richard Wallace lives on, 130 years after his death.

Official map of drinking fountains in Paris (Eau de Paris website)

Share this:

Some quick thoughts on names

Posted on by
Reply

Chances are, unless you’re writing historical fiction (and maybe even then), you’ll need to name lots of characters. Let me share some tips:

If you are writing real-world fiction, consider what realistic names are/were in your chosen time and place. Even if you give your protagonist a “special” name, unless it’s a main feature of your story, most named characters shouldn’t have “special” names. For research, try “baby names popular in year X” (with X being the year of your story minus the age of the character you’re naming, obviously).

For foreign settings, try to find someone from that country/area to confirm your choices (I assure you there are not as many Pierre Dupont in France as you might think, or Hans Meier in Germany). That is especially true with names from cultures where naming rules are different from what you are used to (Chinese names are a prime example).

For stories set in certain time periods or communities, learn about naming customs. Ancient Rome had rather straightforward naming rules that can easily be reproduced and applied to fictional characters. Closer to home, in my grandma’s region of Eastern Frisia, children would receive the same names over and over again from generation to generation, and if in those big families a child died, the next one born would get that child’s name. (Much to genealogists’ despair, I’m sure.)

In a fantasy or sci-fi world, it is you who make the rules, and this includes naming. However, even there it is a good idea to remember to keep your names pronounceable. When I was reading the Never-Ending Story for the first time as a kid (when it was first released and before any movie adaptation), I struggled with the pronunciation of all the names of people and places, it annoyed me to no end. As editor Heather Alexander said at a writers’ conference I attended a few years ago, “you want your readers to be able to talk about your book”!

Don’t use too similar names for different characters (unless it serves a plot purpose). You don’t want your reader to mix them up and get confused.

In real life, people do have unusual names. And there isn’t always a (big) story behind it. But when characters in your story have unusual names (whether the protagonist, the antagonist or a secondary character), readers assume there is a reason (and it better be a good one), that you did it on purpose. Unusual names stand out, so if you give a character an unusual name, you better know why.

Once you’ve come up with a name, check the Internet. You don’t want your protagonist to unintentionally share the name of a criminal, a person well known in another English-speaking country, or an important character from someone else’s books. (Don’t use names that are too similar to well-known characters either.)

Oh, one last tip: Don’t name your protagonist after your kid – or your kid after your protagonist!

Share this: