Real Life: Inspiration for a Novel in the form of a French bed

An old Empire bed, discovered in a junk shop, provided the inspiration for francophile Wendy Gedney’s first novel – a historic mystery within a love story…

I’ve always been a francophile. Before I’d even visited the country, I was in love with it with no idea why! Luckily, my late husband was as besotted as I was and didn’t mind that I decorated our house in a French fashion – especially our bedroom. It had toile de jouy wallpaper, elaborate mirrors, French-inspired art on the walls and a sumptuous crystal chandelier. We even bought a fabulous Louis XIV commode at an auction in Montreuil-sur-Mer on one of our day trips to the Calais region. Once that was installed, the room looked almost perfect.

Just one important detail was missing – we needed a French bed. Back then we didn’t have much spare money, so although I dreamed of buying the beautiful Louis VI bed I’d spotted in an expensive antique shop, I knew it was out of the question. I’d need to lower my sights and was therefore delighted when I found the perfect bed in a local junk shop. It was hidden behind a pile of other furniture and to begin with I wasn’t even sure it was a bed until we managed to drag out first the footboard and then the headboard.

It turned out to be a shabby old Empire bed, the wood faded and scuffed but it was very cheap. It needed some restoration and a new base; made to measure because French sizes differ from those in the UK. All this took time, so it was a few months before we had our first night’s sleep in it. I sighed with contentment as I leant back against the feather pillows enjoying the sweet scent of the beeswax polish and looking around my now-perfect French bedroom.

As I sat there in my lovely old French bed, I began to muse about the people who might have slept in it before me. The love that had been made, maybe the children that had been born and perhaps a life ending. These didn’t disturb me or my sleep; they intrigued me and gradually an idea for a novel lodged itself in my head and there it stayed for 30 years, percolating and marinading.

Life changed. I was widowed and later moved to France. The bed came with me and one day, about seven years ago, I sat down to write the novel, which of course is now called The French Bed.

Thad never written a novel before and had no real idea of where to begin. Ten years ago I wrote a book ahout wine, The Winet of the Languedoc-Roumifin, which is a great success and still selling well from my website. However, writing on a subject I’m pretty expert in is very different to creating a story Now I’ve finished it I have to say it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

I’m told these are two types of writer, a plotter and a plantser. As the name implies, plotters are swriters who have Hall worked out befuse they begin and that’s what I thought I was, but I turned out to be the other. A plantaeris someone who has some of the plot in place but alleses the creative process to guide them as they write, I didn’t set out to be that sort of writer, it past happened mank and I’m glad it did because at the story flowed out of my head, I found myself writing about characters and time periods I hadn’t planned to when I started. The finished novel has turned out to be one with a dual timeline and with two main protagonists, both strong women living living in different times and, of course, it’s set in France, Both timelines take us to Paris and Languedoc and touch on the 1930s, World War 11 and the ad the present time. Essentially, it’s a love story with a mystery at the heart of it, which begins when one of iny prutagonists, Lizzy, buys an antique French bed. Strange dreams ber begin to haunt her sleep-siviil sormes of a passionate love affair in 19005 Paris that ends in a muander and the cry of a newborn baby. Lizzy wonders if they are just dreams or could they be echoes of a forgotten past? Convinced the people in her dreams once lived, and compelled to uncover the truth, she follows het visions to Paris but the search proves fruitless. She’s rady to give up, but one final clue remains: a posticard of a wallel city. Could it be Carcassonne? When she recrives an unexpected commision to write the memoir of Sahina an American who lived in France during World War II, Lizzy accepts and heads to the south of France. Surrounded by peaceful vineyards, she begins to uncover the truth beneath layers of history and memory – piecing together not only a long-buried mystery, but also the key to her own future.

It took me seven years to type THE END and that’s when I discovered that, in fact, this is only the beginning. There are many routes a new writer can
take. I’m retired now and even though I don’t, I could regard my writing as just a hobby. But I have energy and enthusiasm, and I get bored if I’m not busy, so I’ve decided to self-publish my novel and I’ve created my own business called P.I.P. which stands for Personal Independent Publishing and, of course, my first title is The French Bed.

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