The Pemberley Effect

          Approximately three weeks ago, the beloved one affianced to myself became the purveyor of a sprawling 429 square feet in a certain local township. And perhaps inspired by this new feat of his, I have taken fingers to keyboard for the first time in months.

While curled in an opulent beach chair inside his parlor/dining room/office/bedroom, I teased him that I was glad to have accepted his hand prior to his establishing himself in such a supreme studio. This way, he might be assured that my affections do not hinge upon the size of his property or the girth of his income.

            “It’s the Pemberley Effect,” I pronounced.

            “Ah, yes.” he grinned.

            Proceeding to ramble on and on about how funny it seemed that a book about love trumping materialism should have its heroine admit to first falling in love after glimpsing Darcy’s house. This is when the amazing man I am 37 days away from marrying, said, “I always thought she fell in love with him after he helped her sister?”

            And this prompted the very first serious literary thought I’ve thunk in over a year.

            “I think you’re right. The house is really just a symbol for Darcy’s interior life—his true self when he’s at ease and at home. And that’s what Elizabeth falls in love with as opposed to the fake person he presents in public. Fake! Masks! Mask! Mask!”

            My own Mr. Darcy paused and looked up from the mustard on his spreading knife. An eyebrow crinkled considering my exclamations.

            “I think Brezinski [an alternative Polish surname for a professor of infamy from my school days] had me read a long paper on masks in literature. Pemberley is the place of unmasking. The mask is maybe the face everybody puts on for society throughout the entire book.”

            Typing this out now, I doubt the rigor of its intellectualism. But what was truly exciting was the return of any half-decent literary notion. And as he returned his attention to sandwich making, my fiancé smiled.

            In many ways, wedding planning is like a college semester. In no ways at all are the assignments similar or comparable on a scale of enjoyment. Sorry school. Wedding wins. But, in terms of tracking a syllabus and working through a never-ending checklist of sticky notes and spreadsheets, the progression of excitement and anxiety seems comparable.

            First, there comes giddiness about a new semester or being engaged. This is quickly followed by syllabus shock. But then you get your feet under you and begin plugging away at the projects. For a while, the large assignments seem daunting and impossible. How will you ever write those 30 pages or find a venue and a caterer in the budget?

            Somehow, these things get accomplished leaving a feeling of relief and a short season of rest. Next, the relief is replaced with worry about the seemingly endless ends that require tying up before the last day of class or the big day, depending on the scenario. You know these things will get done. After all, your room is peppered with sticky notes reminded you to accomplish them. You keep chipping away, but can’t quite see how it will all come together. You know it has to, and it most likely will. But you’ve a right to remain skeptical because it is utterly impossible to predict how it will all get done.

            And that’s all the news from our Pemberley. 

           

           

           

             

Novel News: I Finished Writing a Book

So I spent this summer hammering out my very first novel. By that I mean the first completed effort. There is a herd of disgruntled first chapters on my computer's hard drive which never experienced the good fortune to reach completion like the lucky project I've titled Sunset Hill. (It's kind of thrilling to type the title of something you've written and use italics because it is an actual book!)

Anyway, all 46,379 words of the manuscript are now sitting in the back of my mind as I tread into the awkward tide of writing query letters and pestering agents. But while waiting weeks to hopefully hear back, I came across the Work-in Progress Blog challenge on my writerly neighbor's website. Hannah Heath posted the first three paragraphs/lines of her Christian fantasy novel The Stump of the Terebinth Tree. 

It looked like fun, so I thought I would try with the first three lines of my work-in-progress. Here it goes:

Chapter 1
It took about three days for the residents of Sunset Hill to tumble into love with Leah Davis. 

Chapter 2
On a sunny Tuesday morning, Leah hopped off her bike and parked it. 

Chapter 3 
Trotting down the hall, Leah checked her watch, a leather affair with a roman numerated face. 

Hmm, not to hard to tell who this book is about, is it? Thanks for reading!

Repost: From October to October

It's almost been two years since christening this blog, and since I'm still recuperating from a full year of Pride and Prejudice, I've decided to revisit some favorite posts from along the way. Here is my initial piece from back at the beginning of this whole endeavor. Enjoy!

                                                                 Being an English major means lots of books. 

               The swollen pink hills oozed spitefully. I fanned the baggy white t-shirt away from my sticky skin and felt the moving air brush my belly. And it was in this miserable state that I met her.

I don’t remember exactly how old I was, probably about fourteen or fifteen. It was midsummer, and Mom lay stretched out beside me. Bumps peppered our arms and legs from the poison oak we’d encountered on our camping trip. But sweating there in bed on a bright Saturday afternoon, I watched as dark hair, a radiant smile and “fine eyes” lit up the screen. For the six hours that comprises the BBC version, or what Mom and I like to call “the real Pride and Prejudice,” I galloped over the cool, rolling green hills and danced in the crystal ballrooms of regency England.

            She was all wit, beauty and authentic charm. By the end of the film, I felt as head over heals as Mr. Darcy himself. Miss Elizabeth Bennet waltzed in and forever altered my existence.

            Several years later, I entered my final year of college. Naturally, I planned to write my senior thesis onPride and Prejudice. Consistent with my obsession of starting assignments way too early, I recently began mining for research and literary criticism to apply to the project which won’t be due till next spring.

Reading through a Norton critical edition, I found one scholar who described the time frame of the novel. He wrote, “What we are given of Elizabeth Bennet’s life is about a year, from about October to October, the year in which she becomes twenty-one” (Stuart Tave, “Limitations and Definitions”). Flabbergasted, I scribbled on a sticky note, “I’m going to be Elizabeth Bennet this year.” I was about to turn twenty only a few weeks later. In an extraordinary case of fantastic timing, I realized that the year in which I would dive into Elizabeth’s world set up a parallel with my real life.Then a new idea surfaced. What if while I'm working this research paper, I write a blog about Pride and Prejudice for fun?

            So in this, the October of my twentieth year, I embark on a journey with Elizabeth Bennet. As I navigate the senior year of my undergrad program and glimpse the possibility of life after school, I’ll read and write my way through Lizzy’s dance through 19^th century Britain. The plan is to post something of the experience every week, and we’ll see where it all wraps up at the end of next October. 

Originally posted October 22th, 2012. 

AIR: It's Good for You

John and I used to have trouble talking. his face would turn blue, and with the wheezing and coughing, I was beginning to lose my mind. But then we tried AIR. A constant supply of oxygen from AIR has really restored our relationship. Now we can talk for hours uninterrupted, and sometimes John talks back, too. Yes, AIR has been good for us. Why not try it for you?

For joggers, fast talkers, chain smokers and anyone else who needs a breather, try AIR. AIR: It's good for you. AIR contains natural oxygen molecules to help you catch your breath, and new research shows it may even lengthen your life. So the next time you're breathing heavy or not breathing at all, try AIR.

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Chivalry Alert #1

As you may have noticed by the lack of once weekly reminders to read this blog in your inbox or home feed, I'm not so sure what should happen now that my year with Elizabeth is technically and quite over. In the meantime while trying--or forgetting at times--to figure out the answer to that question, I've decided to post at random when I see something chivalrous. This may be something done or said by either a male or female person or character (fictional or otherwise). In called it a chivalry alert, the idea is to celebrate women and men behaving decorously towards one another and restoring the fracture that comes from Eden.

The first installment comes from the final episode of Downton Abbey's most recent season. The now footman Mr. Molesley has helped a ladies maid Miss Baxter to come out into the light inspite of threats from the nasty butler Thomas. As they sit on a blanket near the seaside, she confesses her gratitude.

“I have to thank you Mr. Mosley.” Miss Baxter says.

 “Oh why is that?” asks Mr. Molesley.

 “There are things in my past that have made me afraid. I don’t know what will happen, but I’m not afraid anymore. You’ve made me strong, Mr. Molesley. Your strength has made me strong.”

You can watch online and see this sweet scene.

If you see any chivalrous acts you'd like to report, head over to bebennet's Facebook page and drop a post. Thanks for reading!

A P&P Proposal

Well this is just adorable. Upon arriving home one afternoon, this woman's boyfriend and family surprised her by putting on a re-enactment of the last scenes of Pride and Prejudice. She was handed a script and a dress and given the role of Elizabeth. Her mom sewed all the costumes, and her boyfriend, playing Mr. Darcy of course, proposed at the end.

Happy Birthday, Ms. Austen

Today, the 16th of December 2013, would be the 238th birthday of Jane Austen if authors lived for as long as their works do.

Perhaps in anticipation of this historic event, a watercolor portrait of Jane was recently sold at auction for $270,000. The portrait painted by James Andrews was commissioned in 1869 for Austen's nephew James Edward Austen-Leigh's biography of her life. 

Image from www.jasa.net