How Tudor England Inspired my Fantasy Debut By Bel Banta, author of The Court of Venus

I am a self-admitted Tudor history nerd. I read Tudor history and biographies for fun. I own earrings inspired by Anne Boleyn’s infamous necklace. I read Tudor fiction like The Other Boleyn Girl in elementary school (probably too young) and Wolf Hall several years later (also probably too young). So, when the idea sparked for my debut fantasy novel, I was naturally drawn to the Tudors for inspiration.

The era evokes so much: loyalties lasting only for a night, shifting the next day. The axe hanging over every courtier’s neck. Jousts and courtly love.

Yet very early on in the drafting process, I decided that while my novel would be inspired by Tudor history, I would not include any historical events or people. This gave me such freedom to craft new characters and worldbuild, but also include nods to events, places, and real life figures. I have my favorites (Jane Boleyn, Anne Boleyn’s sister-in-law and the poet Thomas Wyatt), and it is my hope that readers who do know their Tudor history will enjoy these winks hidden throughout.

(Don’t worry, there is a conniving character lightly inspired by Jane Boleyn, and several courtiers inspired by Wyatt) I also found it fun to subvert expectations based on how readers who know their history might expect the story to go.

Sometimes, historical characters loom very large. Certain names like Henry VIII, Anne Boleyn, and Thomas Cromwell come to mind. I worried if I alluded to them too heavily, readers would be ripped out of my fantasy world.

My main concern was the king. He wasn’t Henry VIII, so who was he? Instead of striving for a son, I decided my king (named Richard) would have already had a son who was handsome, prepared to rule, and beloved, but had recently died. And so my king largely sought to resolve his own grief. His striving for a son stemmed from loss and regret, instead of a desire to solidify his dynasty’s legacy.

I loved using history as a skeleton in this way, but built new flesh from there. As I wrote, I hoped to evoke the tone of Tudor England: the gable hoods, a great hall at Hampton Court Palace, the dancing and the feasts and the tourneys, the ciphers opened in secret corners. Just add magic.

The Tudors also entertained themselves in such delicious ways. The background of my novel features masques and disguisings, jousts, a royal tourney, and a queen’s coronation. Yet there was such danger – a tablecloth at a sumptuous feast that could be ripped away at any moment. Because they are contrasted against such decadence, Tudor England’s tragedies are largely why the period fascinates us. Courtiers rose high, only to fall dramatically. This provided rich tension for a fantasy novel, especially one where magicians were competing for the king’s favor. There is a sense of foreboding, of ghosts haunting these halls, of people who once loved the king but lingered too close to him.

And in my novel, these ghosts are real. Saturn magicians guide visitations so that the dead can advise the living.

As to the Tudor claim to the throne? Famously, it was tenuous. Henry VIII was descended from Owen Tudor, the second husband of Catherine of Valois. The crown was claimed on a battlefield by Henry VIII’s father. In this world, what does royal blood mean, if power and allegiances can change hands so rapidly, and if a descendant of a second husband of a foreign, widowed queen can become king himself?

If you are like me, and all of these aspects of Tudor history excite you, then I hope you’ll pick up my debut fantasy novel, The Court of Venus, where rumors shape who lives and who dies, and magicians blessed by the planets themselves play kingmaker.