Magic, Rebellion, and Medieval England: A Conversation with Jennifer Rizzo

I first read about the Peasants’ Revolt in one of my favorite books: Katherine by Anya Seton. The book is expansive and covers Katherine Swynford’s entire adult life, but this section stood out the most to me, and I found myself wanting to know more about this historical event.

As the mom of an autistic child and a medieval history enthusiast, I’ve always wondered what life might have been like for a neurodivergent individual in that time period. Most people assume it would have been awful. It’s an understandable conclusion. But I wondered, what if such an individual’s exceptional gifts helped them survive, to change their life in a positive way and that of history itself? That’s how Blanche’s character started, as a combination of my children: my son, who is autistic and my daughter who has ADHD and epilepsy. But I focused my research on neurodivergent adult females, and I began to realize how my own neurodivergence has shaped my life. Although my sensory sensitivities are not to Blanche’s sometimes superhuman level, they’ve caused struggles my entire life. In particular, I have highly sensitive hearing and become easily overwhelmed by combinations of sounds, and by repetitive sounds. I spent a majority of my life thinking there was something wrong with me. That I was a bad person because these things pushed me over the edge so much easier than others. But the process of writing Blanche helped me realize that no, I’m not bad. I just feel the world differently than some others. Since writing this book I’ve been able to develop more coping mechanisms, so I can function better.

Lastly, Blanche’s proclivity to growing is another a piece of me that found its way into her character. I have an inappropriately large collection of houseplants, which my husband jokingly loathes. I derive supreme pleasure from watching them thrive under my care, and often talk to them, pretending I can hear their responses. I enjoyed writing this fantasy into Blanche.

I’m fascinated by Henry of Bolingbroke’s survival that day. Historians widely accept that the rebels wanted to execute him, but how he actually came out unscathed is debated. Some say he hid in a cabinet, while others insist he was spared because of his youth. We do know that years later, after he became king, he pardoned a man named John Ferrour, who had been involved in another rebellion. The reason, notated in the royal accounts, was that this man had spared the young Henry’s life during the Peasants’ Rebellion of 1381. I wanted to further explore the mechanics of how this unfolded. No historical records note Blanche Fitzjohn on that day, but it’s safe to assume she was at the Tower. She was the Constable’s wife, and had nowhere else to go. Therefore, she was Henry’s only family member present. To me, it seemed highly possible that she played a part in his survival.

The goal of all my writing is to shine a spotlight on women who have been overlooked. When researching for Fitzjohn, I came upon a fourteenth century monastic manuscript, detailing the role of women in their society. They were meant to be subservient: to help their men and bear and raise children, the text read. They lived in the background, not creating history but bending to its will. In the manuscript’s margins, however, written in ink scientists have tested and determined to be from the contemporary time period, over six hundred years old, someone’s scrawled “Not Always.” This proves that not everyone bought into what the clergy and nobility were selling, as far as women’s roles. There were women who pushed the limits, who stood out and against their husbands, who shaped their own lives and history.

Also, I’ve always been keen to explore medieval thoughts on death and loss. In many books and movies depicting that time, when a character loses a loved one, it’s glossed over, as we all know death was an omnipresent part of medieval life. This is true. However, I reject the idea that people didn’t mourn the dead, that they didn’t feel the same sense of loss we experience today. In the middle ages, people wouldn’t have been as shocked by death as they are today. Today, if someone loses a child or a younger person dies, it’s jolting. In Blanche’s time, no one was stunned by death, but they still mourned like you and I today. When writing the story, my own father died, and that’s when I started to see these themes coming out in the story, particularly Eldridge’s death, and how Blanche deals with it.

This is difficult and many novels get it wrong. It’s important that we include these themes, because they were, and unfortunately are, a part of many women’s experiences. However, writers can’t dwell on them, can’t revel in them. I’m an avid reader in the historical fiction space, and have come upon many novels that treat violence against women almost like a fetish. Honestly, I find the writers are usually men. I think a key part of making sure violence isn’t sadistic is for the novelist to be an individual who knows what it’s actually like to be a woman. Although men can and should write in the genre, they must employee sensitivity readers–women–to make sure they’re not overly-sexualizing violent scenes. It’s imporant that the woman is given agency in her situation. Many male writers don’t understand this, because a woman’s agency during a violent encouter often comes from within. It’s a mental struggle she overcomes, as opposed to a physical one. In more traditional historical fiction novels that over-use violence against women, it’s usually told from the male perspective, and focuses on the physical action and sexual pleasure. By flipping the POV to the female, and giving her control over her emotional state, she’s given agency. Again, I first read a scene like this in Anya Seton’s Katherine. On Katherine Swynford’s wedding night, she has her first sexual experience, which is unenjoyable and painful. Then, though, the character experiences an emotional epiphany, during which she establishes the personal strength and fortitude that will carry her through the rest of her story. Seton gave Katherine the agency to take this negative experience and build her character in a positive way.

This was a surprise development. In the novel’s first draft, when writing what is now chapter sixteen, I began to weave it into Blanche’s perception of the marching rebels, and how she controlled the wind. As the relationship between Blanche and Eldridge developed, Eldridge became a more major character, and that served as a propelling force for developing Blanche’s magic.

As I mentioned, I’ve been an avid historical fiction reader for many years, and have been influenced by a lot of wonderful authors. O’Farrell’s Hamnet and The Marriage Portrait were influential, as well as all of Gregory’s works, but especially The Lady of the Rivers and The White Queen. As noted above, Anya Seton’s Katherine is also a favorite.

Thanks! The process has been eye opening. I was particularly moved by how the book’s characters took on a life of their own, and shaped the book in ways I never predicted. For example, Joan became a major character, but wasn’t even in the original outline. In an early chapter, I realized Blanche should have a maid, so I tossed in a line about how Lady Swynford hired someone. But then, it was like little Joan raised her hand and said, “Hi. Sorry, but I have a lot more to say.” Now, she’s a pivotal character, and I can’t imagine the book without her.

I know some readers may feel like Blanche doesn’t fit in, that she doesn’t feel “medieval.” Early in the publishing process, a beta reader commented that the only character who felt “medieval” was Eldridge. When he said this, I knew I was onto something. That’s what I wanted. The bottom line is that we weren’t there in the middle ages. Our only concept of what women were really like is drawn from the writings of men, mostly monks. So many people want to see medieval women fitting into only a few archetypes: the mother, the damsel, the crone. I reject that idea, and believe that in reality, there were all different types of women, just like today. Women like Blanche may have been less common, but were certainly there.

BlueSky: @jellenrizzo.bsky.social

Instagram: @jennifererizzo

Website: https://jennifererizzo.com/

J.E. Rizzo is a life-long history fanatic and writer of historical fiction, and her work can be found in Vanity Fair, The Boston Globe, The Guardian, and Ultrarunning Magazine, among others. Her debut historical fiction novel is forthcoming with Literary Wanderlust, and she also won Manuscript Academy’s Agent Choice Award in 2024 and History Inquiry’s 2022 Medieval History Writing Challenge. When not writing, she can be found running ultramarathons through the forests and mountains of New England or spending time with her two children, husband, rescue dog, and semi-feral ginger cat.

A heartfelt thank-you to Jennifer for sharing both her research and the passion behind Uprising.

One of my favorite takeaways from our conversation is Jennifer’s reminder that history isn’t just shaped by the people whose names appear in textbooks. Countless ordinary—and extraordinary—women lived remarkable lives that were simply never recorded. Historical fiction gives us the opportunity to imagine those forgotten voices while remaining grounded in the evidence history leaves behind.

If you’re drawn to richly researched historical fiction, resilient heroines, and stories that challenge the way we see the past, Uprising deserves a place on your reading list.

Better yet, one lucky Wise One will win a signed copy this month!

To enter, simply sign up for my newsletter at LisaTraugott.com and reply to this month’s newsletter with the word “giveaway.”

Good luck—and may your next favorite historical heroine be one history almost forgot.

Talk to you soon, Wise Ones!

Lisa 😉

P.S. – These are my historical fantasy books: To Rescue a Witch and To Condemn a Witch. I’m currently recording the audiobooks! More news on that in future posts.