Jane Austen and Me, Part I

I haven't blogged in days. I feel so guilty. For once, I have a pretty good excuse. I've been working on my novel plus reading a wonderful book. Isn't that great?

I'll spare you the details of my own writing, at least for the moment, but I have to share my experiences reading Nancy Moser's amazing book, Just Jane, a fictionalized account of the life of Jane Austen. I mentioned this book once before, when I had just read a review of it and discovered that Jane Austen actually had a long, difficult journey toward being published. It's taken me this long to get around to reading the book myself, and it's hard to explain the powerful effect this story had on me.

Or maybe it's not hard. I felt a kinship with this woman as I walked through the years with her. I felt we had so much in common. I don't mean the details of her life, or the writing talent. (So you can all stop choking now.) But her temperament, and the overall direction of her life--well, here are a few examples.

From childhood, Jane was a writer. That's how she defined herself, and how most of her family and close friends defined her. She seemed to be working on one story or another practically from childhood, and yet she wrote only a few complete novels. There seemed to be a limited number of stories and special characters that she worked on, writing and thinking and rewriting, throughout her life.

I could have just described myself in that paragraph. I've identified myself as a writer since I was about seven years old. Like Jane, I have four of five groups of characters and stories that I pick up, finish, put down, and then come back to years later. When I signed with an agent a few years ago, the book I had just "finished" was in about its fourth incarnation. I started the first one when I was twelve, and at that time I was in my forties. The book I've been working on this past week is one I conceived when I was a teenager.

I've mentioned this before, but so many modern writers advise that you simply must sit down and crank out a certain word count every day, finish a story in a few months, and move on to the next one. I just can't do that, or at least it isn't natural for me. It wasn't for Jane, either. Not only did she seem to love the characters she created and want to live with them through the years (as do I), but life often intervened so she simply couldn't write for awhile. I know that feeling.

Jane Austen identified herself as a writer but she seemed to assume that she would also be a wife and mother. The years passed. Things happened. The husband and family never came, and the woman who conceived characters that will live forever never gave birth to a child in life. Though she never gave up on publishing a book, she seemed to accept that eventually it was too late for marriage and a family. I went through years of wondering if all that would pass me by. I did marry when I was 30, but I never was able to have the children I had planned.

I must confess that all the above Jane Austen information comes from only two sources: Nancy Moser's novel and a biographical article (which seemed to corroborate the general events in the novel). So I can't exactly say I'm an expert on her life. But I want to say thank you to Nancy Moser for introducing me to this woman, who almost feels like a friend now. Being a librarian, of course I'm so intrigued that I want to do more research.

This is getting a bit long for a blog post, so I'll continue tomorrow. I want to tell you some intriguing things I read about the end of Jane Austen's life.

Does God Waste His Spirit on Arts and Crafts?

My Chronological Bible reading is taking me through Exodus right now. Some of those chapters are slow-going. Lots of lists and instructions on how to construct the Tabernacle, how to build the Ark of the Covenant, even how to make the robes for the priests. (I have to admit that last part interested me most. I love fashion!)

Then some verses in chapter 35 jumped out at me. God chose specific individuals to work on His tabernacle, the place where he would meet and interact with his people, because of their skill in arts and crafts. Not only that, he had specifically given them the skills they needed, through his Spirit. Here's the exact quote (from the NIV version):

"Then Moses said to the Israelites, "See, the LORD has chosen Bezalel son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, and he has filled him with the Spirit of God, with skill, ability and knowledge in all kinds of crafts--to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood and to engage in all kinds of artistic craftsmanship. And he has given both him and Oholiab son of Ahisamach, of the tribe of Dan, the ability to teach others. He has filled them with skill to do all kinds of work as craftsmen, designers, embroiderers in blue, purple and scarlet yarn and fine linen, and weavers—all of them master craftsmen and designers." (Exodus 35:30-35)

I sometimes wish God had gifted me to be a doctor or nurse, so I could actually help people. Or given me the ability to preach or to understand deep doctrines. Instead, I'm interested in making up stories, and sewing, and making jewelry.

I love these verses, that remind me that He has uses for the artsy-craftsy people, too. Someday He may have a project that He has uniquely gifted one of us for.

Win a Copy of Rotten Reviews and Rejections

Last September at ACFW, keynote speaker James Scott Bell occasionally quoted from a book called Rotten Rejections. I couldn't believe there was actually a book called that, but if was real, I wanted it.

Sure enough, I found it on amazon.com. Actually, the version I bought is called Pushcart's Complete Rotten Reviews and Rejections. It combines three smaller volumes that were published earlier and it's just what it sounds like--a compilation of bad reviews and mean rejection letters of books that have since become classics. Or at least sold lots of copies.

I love it! What a morale booster. To know that reviewers said that Emily Dickinson was destined for oblivion, that Faulkner was a "minor talent," and that Dickens would not be remembered in 50 years' time . I love the statement about Wuthering Heights: "the only consolation which we have in reflecting upon it is that it will never be generally read." Those are from the reviews.

The rejection letters are even better. Having had many editors explain to me why my books will never sell, I wanted to laugh with glee when I saw that editors in the past said the same thing about books that went on to sell millions--that are still selling after decades.

My favorite story was about a journalist who typed up a "manuscript" of a novel that had won the National Book Award only a few months earlier. He then submitted it to editors and literary agents under his own name, as an experiment. All of them rejected it--and lots of them explained why it would never sell. Even the publishing company who originally published it rejected it!

In another story, a publishing company accepted a book for publication and sent it to an artist to do illustrations. After completing the illustrations, the artist sent the manuscript back to them. The publishers apparently thought he was submitting the manuscript, because they sent him a rejection letter for it!

But here is my personal favorite, from a Chinese economic journal (p. 212): "We have read your manuscript with boundless delight. If we were to publish your paper, it would be impossible for us to publish any work of lower standard. And as it is unthinkable that in the next thousand years we shall see its equal, we are, to our regret, compelled to return your divine composition, and to beg you a thousand times to overlook our short sight and timidity." None of the rejection letters I've received used those exact words, but I'm sure that's what they meant.

I'd love to share this little morale booster with one of you out there, particularly if you're a writer in need of encouragement. Even if you're not a writer, the book is fun. If you'd like to win a copy for yourself, leave a comment ON THIS POST to that effect, and I'll hold a drawing on February 29th.

Good luck! I simply must end with one more, from page 56 about Rudyard Kipling: "I'm sorry, Mr. Kipling, but you just don't know how to use the English language."

Quotes are from Pushcart's Complete Rotten Reviews & Rejections, edited by BillHenderson & Andre Bernard. New York: Pushcart Press, 1998.

How God is Not Like a GPS Device

This time last week, my husband and I were on our way to Atlanta to visit his cousin and her family for the evening. We decided this would be an excellent time to test out the GPS device I received for Christmas. We had Adrienne's address, and I thought I knew the approximate area she lives in, but we didn't have specific directions. So off we went.



If you're familiar with Atlanta, you know there are many ways to get wherever you want to go. You can hit I-285, the "Perimeter," and go around what used to be the outer rim of the city. If you're braver, you can take I-75/I-85 right smack through downtown. These two interstate highways flow together for a few miles through the middle of town, then split again. While they're together (the Connector), they are not for the faint of heart. About six lanes wide, they're always crowded. If the cars aren't in gridlock, they zip along at somewhere between 65 and 400 miles an hour, approximately three inches from one another. And here we were, testing the GPS.



First of all, with the two of us listening to the spoken directions and me reading the directions on the little screen, I still managed to misinterpret the GPS lady's first crucial directions. (I know it's just an electronic voice, but it sounds like an irritated woman. She's probably irritated because we seldom do what she says.) For about 15 minutes, the direction at the top said "I-75 to I-285 West." I knew you could get to Adrienne's neighborhood by taking I-285 West, so that made sense, and I told Dave that's what we were doing. But at the very last second, she told us to get in the left lane and take I-75. Ha! Not only is the GPS lady irritated, she's also insane! So we just got on I-285 West.



Usually when we disobey, she gets over her snit pretty quickly and recalculates to follow our preferred route. Not this time. We followed her next directions, and by golly, she made us circle around and get back on I-75.



You'd think I would have learned after that experience. A few miles later, in the 400-mile-an-hour bumper-to-bumper traffic, we approached the split where I-75 and I-85 would go their separate ways. I was sure we needed to go to the right on I-85, but she kept telling us to keep left on I-75. We started to panic. My eyes were glued to the screen. I told Dave maybe I was wrong and didn't really know where Adrienne lives, because GPS Lady insisted we stay on I-75.



When we were literally at the split, the lady barked at us to go left on I-85! This time Dave managed to do it, but let me tell you, it was pretty exciting for a few seconds there.



All in all the GPS device is amazing. It led us right to Adrienne's door. You know by now how my mind works. When I first started playing with this device, I thought, I could make an analogy out of this. It's like God's guidance. He only shows me one turn at a time. I have to trust it's the right one and that I'll end up in the right place, because I'm not seeing a list of all the turns ahead of me. Plus, I might not always understand the route that's chosen for me. I might look back and think, hey, I could have chosen a more direct route. There's some reason for the choice that I'm not privvy to--but there is a reason.



But then my analogy started breaking down. God's guidance may seem to be late in coming--but it always comes at exactly the right time. God knows the whole story. He knows about the wild drivers and the bumper to bumper traffic. He knows how long it's going to take us to make a move, and he's going to take give us just enough time to make that move--safely.



For less heavily populated areas, though--I'm still going to love using my GPS!

My treasures are famous!

I got a nice surprise today. Remember the goody box of handmade treasures I gave away back around Christmas? Today, the winner (Brandy) featured them on her blog. It was a nice little lift on a rainy, gray day. They look very cute in their new home. Check it out:



http://comfycottage.blogspot.com/2008/02/unplanned-hiatus.html



Thanks for the publicity, Brandy!

Off Track for Forty Years

Say the name "Moses" and what comes to mind? Leading the children of Israel out of slavery in Egypt, through the wilderness to the Promised Land, right? But did you ever notice how much of Moses' life had passed before he even reached that part of his life's story? So was that the whole point to his life? Was he just waiting around to become the man who freed the slaves?

All this came to mind because I've started reading Exodus in my chronological Bible, which begins with the account of the Israelites falling into slavery in Egypt. That, in turn, brings us to the story of Moses.

Awhile back, I was in an online writers' group (not ACFW, the one I'm in now). When one new member introduced herself, she related a number of impressive things she accomplished early in her life. Then she said, "But I killed the Egyptian, so that got me off track for years." There was an immediate outcry from the other members. "What does that mean?" "You killed somebody!"

I had to laugh. I knew what she meant. She made a bad decision, or did something that got her off of that straight path to success. Moses did the same thing. In the opening chapters of Exodus, Moses has lived a cushy life in Pharaoh's palace, but he starts to visit his people, the Israelite slaves. He starts to identify with them. He seems to be right on track to fulfill God's plan. God is obviously about to move, in his life and theirs.

Then Moses gets into a fight with an Egyptian overseer, kills him, and has to flee into the wilderness. He remains there forty years. Talk about getting off track!

Moses was already forty when he killed the Egyptian. Add another forty to that and you come up with the ripe old age of eighty--and there he is, still in the wilderness.

Sometimes lately, I feel pretty old. I work with college students who are younger than my cat. I'm in a new online writers' group, with people half my age publishing multiple books per year while I still struggle for that first contract. It's quite reassuring to me that when Moses was eighty, he hadn't even gotten started on the most important accomplishments of his life. Once again I remind myself that God's timing is so different from mine. If he wants to use me now or thirty years from now, he'll do just that. He can give me the energy, the strength, whatever I need.

Want to bet you're going to be hearing a lot more about Moses?

Contest Winner!

The winner of the $25 gift certificate for amazon.com is Jess, who's been a frequent commenter over the past couple of weeks. Jess, contact me with your email address and I'll send the gift certificate to you. You can email me at robing8300 at gmail.com.

By the way, I had 72 subscribers to enter in the contest, plus all the folks who left comments.

Thanks, guys!