Posts Tagged ‘lucy maud montgomery’

I love talking shop with other writers.  So I was honored when fabulous New York Times bestselling author (and awesome friend/holder of #ebpower) Eleanor Brown asked me for a one-line piece of writing advice for her next blog on The Debutante Ball.

My contribution:  “done is better than fun.”

Pithy?  Probably.  True?  Absolutely.  I had to make up this phrase while writing The Heroine’s Bookshelf, in fact.  You see, long ago and far, far away I bought into the myth that a writer’s life is strewn with roses, that words flow like the champagne that follows each pearl on a long string of bestselling book releases.  Cue a great gnashing of teeth and pulling of hair when it turned out that writing, for me, seemed incomprehensible, mysterious and downright frustrating.

Turns out I wasn’t the only person who struggled to find time, will, and wherewithal to write.  Here’s an excerpt from a letter Lucy Maud Montgomery wrote in 1932:

No, I haven’t yet ‘tackled my adult novel.’ It is impossible under present conditions. I keep hoping I shall ‘have more time later on’ but ‘later on’ I have even less. It is all pretty well shaped out in my mind but I can not write it by fits and starts, as I do my Annes and Emilys.

This might discourage some.  After all, isn’t Maud decrying her lack of time or ability to work on the book of her heart?  But I find comfort in the latter…the knowledge that even this very canny and incredible writer wrote her most famous books in little snippets, pressing onward despite the early twentieth-century version of the taunting blinking cursor.  I am reminded that whether we love every moment of the process, we can create something that is worthy of love anyway.  At least that’s what I’m telling myself today.

One of the questions I get asked most often is “I’m a fan of [insert author here].  What books and resources should I read to find out more?”

When I wrote The Heroine’s Bookshelf, I very deliberately decided to make the book as accessible as possible…which meant excluding a bibliography or academic footnotes.  However, the history major in me demanded a very rigorous research process, and I consulted multiple books and primary sources for each chapter.

Rather than bore you with my long, snarled list of primary sources and books, I’d like to recommend some great further reading to serve as an entree into the lives of my literary heroines.  Please bear in mind that I could have written an entire book on the research materials alone, so this represents a very truncated list!

Jane Austen: If you’re looking for a comprehensive guide to all things Jane, by all means start at The Republic of Pemberley’s most impressive Selective Jane Austen Bibliography.  Great starting places include Jane’s Fame:  How Jane Austen Conquered the World by Claire Harman and A Memoir of Jane Austen: And Other Family Recollections, by James Edward Austen-Leigh, a great period document that informs Jane bios to this day.

Zora Neale Hurston: Nobody wrote about Zora’s life quite as well as Zora herself, notably in Dust Tracks on a Road, but I particularly enjoyed Valerie Boyd’s Wrapped In Rainbows: The Life of Zora Neale Hurston and Zora Neale Hurston: A Biography of the Spirit by Deborah G. Plant.

Lucy Maud Montgomery: Maud scholarship is making huge strides, thanks in part to the L.M. Montgomery Institute and the Lucy Maud Montgomery Literary Society.  I found true inspiration and great information in Irene Gammel’s Looking for Anne of Green Gables, Mary Henley Rubio’s Lucy Maud Montgomery: The Gift of Wings, and the lovely Annotated Anne of Green Gables edited by Wendy Elizabeth Barry, Margaret Anne Doody, and Mary Doody Jones and published in a gorgeous edition by the Oxford University Press.

Alice Walker: Alice Walker is still living out her own biography.  I enjoyed Alice Walker: A Life by Evelyn C. White and Alice Walker: Critical perspectives past and present, edited by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and K.A. Appiah.

Betty Smith: I was disappointed at the dearth of biography on this amazing figure of literature, and hope that more authors take up the call to document Betty’s life in greater detail.  That said, I devoured Valerie Raleigh Yow’s Betty Smith: Life of the Author of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and found Carol Siri Johnson’s online dissertation on Betty Smith to be quite helpful.

Colette: Though she was a formidable, fascinating figure indeed, Americans don’t tend to pay too much attention to Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette, and many of her biographies are out of print.  I enjoyed Secrets of the Flesh: A Life of Colette by Judith Thurman and found interesting information in Michele Sarde’s Colette and Colette: A Life by Herbert R. Lottman.  If anything, any book on Colette is worth peeking into for ravishing photos of the famously beautiful Colette!

Margaret Mitchell: Peggy Mitchell was notoriously…unreliable when it came to relating her own biography.  That said, Ellen Firsching Brown and John Wiley have done a stunning job with their recently-released Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With the Wind: A Bestseller’s Odyssey from Atlanta to Hollywood. Darden Asbury Pyron’s Southern Daughter is an entertaining starting point for more biography on Peg as opposed to the book for which she is famous.

Harper Lee: Nelle was the only other living author featured in my book, and she is notoriously private about her life to the chagrin of her fans and the detriment of her biographers.  That said, it is hard to find a biography as lovingly researched and thorough as Charles J. Sheilds’s Mockingbird: A Portrait of Harper Lee.

Laura Ingalls Wilder: Laura’s another writer who is currently undergoing a scholarship renaissance, helped along by the amazing folks at Beyond Little House and Laurati who are doing interesting work nationwide and even worldwide.  I was particularly entranced by Laura Ingalls Wilder: A Writer’s Life by Pamela Smith Hill, which is hands-down my favorite Laura biography.  Other great bios include John E. Miller’s Becoming Laura Ingalls Wilder, Anita Clair Fellman’s Little House, Long Shadow, and the ever-controversial The Ghost In the Little House by William Holtz, which chronicles the life and work of Rose Wilder Lane.  As far as Laura expertise, you can’t be savvier or more well-informed than the legendary William Anderson, who has made a place for himself as THE Laura expert of the ages.  Click here for a bibliography of his books and pamphlets on Laura.

Charlotte Brontë: Charlotte’s one of those women who has had books written on the books about her…there’s that much incredible information about the Brontë family.  I personally love Elizabeth Gaskell’s warm, chatty memoir about her friend, The Life of Charlotte Brontë, though it’s been criticized for its insistence that Charlotte was proper rather than passionate.   In case you care to read a biography on Charlotte not written in the nineteenth century, you can’t go wrong with Rebecca Fraser’s The Brontës or Lyndall Gordon’s Charlotte Brontë: A Passionate Life.

Louisa May Alcott: On last count, I personally own over 10 books about Louy.  My favorites include the very innocent, anachronistic yet informative Invincible Louisa by Cornelia Meigs and John Matteson’s unforgettable, Pulitzer-prize-winning double biography of Louisa and her father, Bronson…Eden’s Outcasts gets special mention as one of the only biographies that has both made me cry and that I have dreamt about.  Highly recommended.  That said, 2010 was a banner year for Alcott scholarship, producing both Harriet Reisen’s Louisa May Alcott:  The Woman Behind Little Women and Susan Cheever’s Louisa May Alcott:  A Personal Biography.

Frances Hodgson Burnett: “Fluffy” Burnett was another woman I found it hard to research, since she has been shunted off to the kidlit category by many dismissive biographers.  Her lovely autobiography, The One I Knew Best of All, is barely worth mentioning for its obvious unreliability.  That said, we must content ourselves with Anne Thwaite’s dual Frances bios and Gretchen Gerzina’s Frances Hodgson Burnett, and with Gerzina’s perceptive biographical notes in the W.W. Norton Annotated Secret Garden.

“Marilla, isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?”
Anne Shirley, Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery

It’s that time of the year.  The time when your impossibly put-together friends announce that they are going to accomplish a Huge Goal in 2011 and then proceed to do so with a minimum of stress, pain, or evident strife.  I usually fall on the other side of the spectrum, looking toward goals but nervous about announcing them, doing what I can and lamenting what I can’t and somehow accomplishing a bunch in the middle.

However.

It has come to my attention that I’m in need of some next steps in terms of my literary career.  (I just almost typed that phrase, moved away from the keyboard, did some busywork, returned, and typed it slowly.  Oh, dear.)  Nothing earth-shattering…it’s just time I looked at what I really want, what’s next, and how I can get from Point A to Point B.

I was talking to a friend about it last night and she said “2009 you would weep over the Facebook status updates of 2010 you.”

She’s right:  2010 was a hugely productive, accomplished, and important year, and though it whipped me down it also built me up in many unexpected ways.  The best part?  Discovering my literary tribe through the readers, bloggers, book-lovers, reviewers, and allies flung all over the world…the people to whom I owe my greatest debt.  Now I get to take all of you into consideration as I ponder my literary future, too, and that is a privilege.

Anyway, my conversation with my friend reminded me that I have other allies, too…the women who wrote my favorite books and whose lives I was privileged to study and write about in The Heroine’s Bookshelf. As I look forward, I can remember that Charlotte Brontë wrote her way through grief and took an active role in her publishing career; that Betty Smith used her writing to catapult her out of the slums of Brooklyn and as a window back in.  My literary heroines spent less time agonizing over the direction of their careers than finding work they couldn’t not do.  Armed with that work, you guys, and a whole history of female writers, I think I’m well-equipped for a new day.

Footnote:  If you haven’t seen it yet, check out The Heroine’s Bookshelf as reviewed on the front page of The Washington Post’s BookWorld.  And stay tuned…I’ve got something really fun up my sleeve for February!

She was sitting there waiting for something or somebody and, since sitting and waiting was the only thing to do just then, she sat and waited with all her might and main.

Anne of Green Gables, Lucy Maud Montgomery

The countdown continues…and today you can not only sign up to win a galley of The Heroine’s Bookshelf, but you can now turn to Jo March, Lizzie Bennet, and Scarlett O’Hara for advice to life’s pressing problems on The Roaring 20s.

Today opened with news that L.M. Montgomery’s The Blythes are Quoted will finally be published, extremely posthumously, in October.  Anyone who read Rilla of Ingleside and got a glimpse of the Blythes’ darker and more tragic side will probably relish the book, which is being teased as actually addressing adult themes like (shock!) adultery and (scandal!) revenge.  Sounds juicy…and I wonder if it will ever live up to the hype.

But that’s not what I really want to talk about.  I want to talk about prequels.

See, in perusing the news over TBAQ’s October debut, I found a note that Before Green Gables, Budge Wilson’s prequel to Anne, has already sold a whopping 50,000 copies.

Can I get a whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!

Though I am sure Wilson’s readers love his book for good reason, the popularity of prequels never ceases to amaze me.  Mike has often been witness to my not-so-silent rage over, for example, the hideous monstrosity that is the Little House on the Prairie sequels, the bizarre reimagining that is the Little Women diaries for girls.

Here’s the problem with prequels:  They are produced by writers who will never, ever be able to recreate the inner landscape, historical context, or internal motivations brought to the table by the original author.  For me, prequels puncture part of the magic of the Heroine’s Bookshelf…the existence of stories that won’t ever be fully imagined or completed.  My imagination (shock!) or my historical research always had to fill in the tantalizing blank spaces, gray areas, and gaps left by my favorite authors…and I am very okay with that.

What’s your take on prequels?