Apollo and The Muses on Mount Helicon (1680) by Claude Lorrain

One question writers are frequently asked is “Where do your ideas come from?” or, alternatively, “What are your sources of inspiration?”

In my case, I can honestly say that my ideas can come from anywhere. From a chance remark that bears unexpected fruit, to a line from a song or poem that leads me to wonder “what’s the rest of the story?”, to a myth, legend, or fairy tale that lends itself to a fresh perspective, to a historical event or anecdote that invites further exploration. All those random details that have me asking “What if?”

Waltz with a Stranger, for example, was inspired by several things: “The Sisters,” an early Tennyson poem about a man who courts identical twins–with tragic results; the transatlantic marriage market so vividly depicted in Edith Wharton’s The Buccaneers; and the fairy tale Beauty and the Beast, but with a gender-twist (the heroine, not the hero, is the one dealing with physical scars and trauma).

My October release, A Song at Twilight, draws partly upon the lives and careers of Jenny Lind and Nellie Melba, two successful professional singers of the Victorian era. The relationship between George Eliot and her editor, George Henry Lewes, was another partial influence. Another work in progress owes a debt to the life of Lillie Langtry and the films Roman Holiday and Notting Hill.

Photo of Jenny Lind, The Swedish Nightingale, in the 1840s

History has always proved a fertile breeding ground for ideas. It hasn’t escaped my notice, as an avid reader, that George R. R. Martin’s A Song of Fire and Ice was inspired by The Wars of the Roses and, to a lesser degree, the Hundred Years’ War.

Illustration of The Battle of Tewkesbury, a pivotal event of the Wars of the Roses. From the 15th century Ghent Manuscript

Likewise, Susan Howatch, whose work I’ve recently discovered, reimagined the histories of the Plantagenets in several “modern” novels: Penmarric (Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine), Cashelmara (Edward I, Edward II, Edward III), and The Wheel of Fortune (Edward the Black Prince, Richard II, Henry iV, Henry V). Barbara Taylor Bradford, best known for her family saga that began with A Woman of Substance, did something similar in The Ravenscar Dynasty (Edward IV) and its sequels (Yorks, Lancasters, Tudors).  For me, the fascination of that kind of book lies in how closely the author chooses to parallel the lives of her characters with their fictional counterparts–and whether she changes the final outcome. Or if, as was the case in so many of these histories, things are destined to end in tears . . . and blood.

So, writers, where do you find your inspirations? And readers, can you spot the inspirations–whether historical, mythic, artistic–in some of your favorite books?

Dance in the City, Pierre-Auguste Renoir

Fourteen months after accepting my publisher’s offer, I am delighted to announce the arrival of Waltz with a Stranger on December 4, 2012. It’s been a long journey, and one that I couldn’t have made without the support and encouragement from so many people in both my personal and professional life, from my family and friends to my agent, my editor, and the whole team at Sourcebooks. Thank you all for helping me to realize my dream! And more stories will be coming (I hope!).

In honor of Release Day, I will be giving away two copies–signed, if you like–of the actual book (not an ARC!) to commenters below. And this month, I will also be embarking on a “virtual tour,” visiting various blogs and websites to discuss and promote Waltz with a Stranger. Tour dates and locations are listed and linked on the News page of Blue Stockings & Crossed Genres, if you’d like to drop by and say hello while I’m “on the road.”

A few words on the subject of “the dance,” as this is also an “alphabet post.”

It was through Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, and a double feature of Swing Time and Top Hat that I first learned about dance as “the language of love.” Granted, I was only eight or nine at the time, but the romance, grace, and artistry of one of Hollywood’s best dance teams made a permanent impression.

That impression was reinforced and given a slightly racier spin some years later when my graduate school roommate–a fellow Astaire-Rogers fan–and I were watching The Gay Divorcée on TV. We watched spellbound as the duo spun and glided through the number “Night and Day” with their trademark flair. After which, Fred leaned over a breathless, wide-eyed Ginger, and asked in a low, intimate voice: “Cigarette?” To which she could only shake her head in response.

My roommate and I stared at each other, absorbing what we’d just seen and heard . . . and then we burst into shrieks of laughter at how adroitly the film makers had managed to circumvent the Hays code!

Dance at Bougival, Pierre-Auguste Renoir

While James and Aurelia, the hero and heroine of Waltz with a Stranger, are not in the same terpsichorean league as Fred and Ginger, they nonetheless share a special connection when they dance. A connection that–as with Fred & Ginger in their many films–transcends speech and carries with it the whisper of secret longing and forbidden love. A connection that ultimately proves impossible to deny . . .

So, if you like the sound of this, please save a place on your dance card for Waltz with a Stranger!

Edited To Add: The hat of destiny has decreed that Rebecca Burnham and infinitieh are the recipients of this week’s giveaway of Waltz with a Stranger. Please contact me with your mailing addresses so I can send your copies (signed if you’d like) to you as soon as possible.