NaNoWriMo is eating my soul and it isn't even November

For those of you who weren't led here by my absolutely glorious hyperlinking from my NaNoWiMo forum sig, I have been a devout NaNoer for two years since I was dragged to my local library for a kickoff in 2009.
You think I'd be more familiar with writing historical fiction, being to author of a blog such as this. Alas, my only attempt came in 4th grade with a wildly inaccurate story about an Italian monarchy in unspecified-time-period-that-looks-a-bit-like-the-ealry-1800s-if-you-squint. It was about an assassin and a princess and I haven't looked back since. (Seeing as I didn't and still don't know much about post-renaissance Italy, the reasoning behind this adventure still baffles me)
I decided I'd tackle some more...familiar territory in 2011. Medieval England should be easy, I fatally thought as I decided to update my novel info page. This year, it's "Mockery King of Snow", a novel about the imprisonment of Richard II. I have 50,000 words to write about this.

Damn.

SO. I have sequestered myself to my brand-spankin'-new favorites folder with the articles about him I scavanged from endless nights stalking around Google and the piles of books about the Medieval world strewn about my house.
Also: PLOTTING. Which has, in the past, been a notoriously dirty word. I never plot until I have to, a habit I have to break soon or I'll never get this done. So far, the plotting I've managed could maybe take up the first...sixth of the novel.
This should be easier with an established historical figure. But here I am, mapping out his relationship with his father until my brain is dripping out my ears (lovely visual there). Not to mention the fact that Half Price only had ONE. BOOK. ABOUT RICHARD II. Wedged between more books about the Tudors than I could ever read. I need to make a post about that...hmm.
But I've got until November. Then I'm dead. For now, I need to get through the Grapes of Wrath. (It helps if you imagine everyone with Irish accents).

Historical Figure of the Month: Richard II

Because I've never done this before, I suppose this merits explaination. Every month (or every month I update this blog thingymajigger, as the case may be), there'll be a little entry here about one of my current favorite historical figures. Not a whole essay on them, but a little summary of the good points. If I get enough readers, maybe we can vote. For the sake of time, I'll refer to these as HFMs.

So. Richard II. Fun guy. I've been researching him for National Novel Writing Month recently and basically have a favorites folder of whatever I could find about him, plus the ONE BOOK in my entire bookstore that I could scavange and am in the middle of muddling through (Richard II and the Revolt of 1399. It's awesome for intensive research, if not a bit, erm...dry at times.)

Kind of a sad little story. I mean, his brother dies, his father (the up until now pretty epic war hero Edward the Black Prince) is a whole other story in terms of giving the poor kid an inferiority complex, then Edward up and dies of dysentery (I have yet to find a good majority of historical figures who didn't, though) and he's named heir to the throne by his grandfather. Which is not a good idea when there are of-age, legitimate, perfectly alive sons knocking around. But we'll give old Edward III a break for now. He's old.

(And also moonlights as Albus Dumbledore)

So Edward--the king guy: the Black Prince died a little while ago--also dies. Strangely not of dysentery. The ten year-old is king. This is decidedly not a good thing. It usually isn't when it comes to English history (sorry, Dumbles). Adorable anticdote time: according to contemporary accounts, the whole coronation deal was so long and boring that poor Richard fell asleep at the banquet and was carried to his bed by his tutor, losing a slipper on the way there (and if that doesn't make you say 'd'aw!'...then you're not me).

Things go suprisingly...well. 14 year-old Richard puts down a peasant revolt, famously commanding his soldiers by shouting "I am your captain, follow me!". Pretty awesome so far.

(He even rides in style)

Except his wife dies. And everyone hates his BFF Robert de Vere. And the guy that carried him to bed in the cute story is excecuted. Then his 6 year-old future most vehement fangirl's father arranges their marriage (she pretty much cared more about avenging his death than the entirety of England). The fact that he held something refered to as the 'Mericless Parliament' should says something. You can only really...3/4s blame the guy. He's also known to sit in his throne for long periods of time and force anyone passing him to kneel before him, so he hasn't come out of this too...right in the head.

To remedy things, his cousin Henry of Bolingbroke decides he's going to stage a coup. Now, if you're Henry, you have to take a step back and look at things. Your cousin, who was your childhood best friend, is the king of England. He's basically spent the past couple decades being kicked around in some fashion and may be on the verge of going mad with power. He throws his money around like confetti to people he likes. Hypothetically, if you're Henry, you want to stay on this guy's good side, right?

Wrong.

Not when your cousin takes off for Ireland again, leaves England wide open for you to invade, and the guys he left behind to guard the place take your word for it that you're totally not here to take over (psh, who said anything about usurping?). Richard doesn't recieve too warm a welcome when he comes back. So he abdicates the throne to Henry.

To add insult to injury, Henry (now Henry IV), imprisions him in the Tower of London, moves him to Pontefract castle. No one really knows what happened after that. He kind of becomes an Elvis figure. You think he's dead, but soon enough you see this guy that kind of looks like him and make him the head of the anti-Lancastrian movement. Typical stuff like that.

And hopefully, you made it all the way to the end of this post. That's it for this installment. Feel free to suggest topics for future HFMs and fare thee well.