Beyond the Rubicon

 I finished Chapter 11 of Book 4, and added a little Entr'acte to get a glimpse of the pending zombi infection back at Bellesfées. All the threads I knew I needed have finally formed a tapestry that's making sense. All I have to do now is tighten the screws, kick the tires, and let 'er rip.

In the meanwhile, I've put a lot of research under my belt to put this book together. 

I discovered that London police were not called "bobbies" in the 1840s. 

Goggles had not been invented yet, so I had Jacqueline invent them for herself. She called them safety spectacles until she realized she looked goggle-eyed (which was a term), so she called them gogglers. 

Since cars hadn't been invented yet, creepers hadn't either, and yet they're the perfect tool for sliding into machinery hatches and getting under all the gears; once again, Jacqueline invents it. 

We throw out the term "zombie apocalypse" all the time, but the word apocalypse was not used to mean a catastrophic event until much later. It simply meant a great revelation, which is what the word originally meant. I suppose I could say "zombi armageddon," which is more accurate anyway.

I've also learned a lot about Chinese Cohong, taipans, geung-se (hopping corpses that suck out your qi), the unequal Treaty of Nanking, and the follow-up unequal Treaty of Whampoa. 

Did you know that opium doesn't dilate the pupils, but constricts them? 

It's these kinds of details that make a piece of historical fiction resonate. I had no idea how far the Isle of Dogs was from Buckingham Palace and Pall Mall. If Jacqueline leaves Pall Mall at 8am, how long will it take her to get to her hidden dock in the middle of the marsh? And what was the name of that marsh back in 1843? 

For Book 1, I had written a rocking scene where Angélique curses out Chopin and wins a piano duel in a Paris salon. Then I read Chopin's biography and discovered he had spent the summer at Nohant, so he wasn't in Paris at the time of the setting. Talk about murdering your darlings!

The thing is, these details matter to a lot of people. I'm one of those people who cannot suspend disbelief if the details are wrong for the sake of convenience. Watching "Young Victoria," for example, I was apoplectic at the inaccuracies, especially the episodes with Charles Babbage and the Countess of Lovelace, the Brunel Tunnel, the Meeting at Eu, and the absolute disregard for Baron Comstock.

I've said it before, the devil is in the details, but so is the joy of learning. I am enjoying putting this book together.

The die is cast, I'm past the halfway point, and there's no turning back now.