So, it's really rather awkward, writing the first post for a new blog. My purpose in starting this, of course, is so that when my book is published in the fall, those who want to find me on the web may do so. I have no idea how steady I will be in updating it, but my first purpose is to post my shorter Jane Austen stories. In addition to those that are already posted elsewhere I will probably have extras like works-in-progress, unfinished fragments, deleted scenes and the occasion poem. I also plan to blog about the nineteenth century, Jane Austen, and the process of writing itself, whenever I feel I have something to say.
In the next few days I will take the potentially life-altering step of joining Facebook for the first time ever, and so I hope all of you who like my writing or like me will follow me either here or there, to receive updates, stories and general reflections of many sorts.
Thank you!
"Yes, novels; for I will not adopt that ungenerous and impolitic custom so common with novel–writers, of degrading by their contemptuous censure the very performances, to the number of which they are themselves adding.... There seems almost a general wish of decrying the capacity and undervaluing the labour of the novelist, and of slighting the performances which have only genius, wit, and taste to recommend them. “I am no novel–reader — I seldom look into novels — Do not imagine that I often read novels — It is really very well for a novel.” Such is the common cant. “And what are you reading, Miss — ?”
“Oh! It is only a novel!” replies the young lady, while she lays down her book with affected indifference, or momentary shame. “It is only Cecilia, or Camilla, or Belinda”; or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour, are conveyed to the world in the best–chosen language." --Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey, Chapter 5
“Oh! It is only a novel!” replies the young lady, while she lays down her book with affected indifference, or momentary shame. “It is only Cecilia, or Camilla, or Belinda”; or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour, are conveyed to the world in the best–chosen language." --Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey, Chapter 5